It is time for me to leave San Pedro.

I wake up early, say thanks and goodbye to Omar and Marissa and tell them to pick up 40 Quetzales that Paco owes me from work and run to meet Angelica, Emmanuel and Jenny on time at Angelicas house where just the previous night she had invited us for dinner and made us a delicious Italian pasta. But first I stop by 'El Puesto' to see Fluer and Amanda, he shouts me a joint, we take some photos and wish each other luck, hopeful we'll see each other again sometime.

Angelica has decided to come along to Pana and the city because we are going to pass by some second hand clothes stores and she needs some boots. I find myself secretly pleased because I have a small infatuation with her. Emmanuel helps unlock Angelicas door with a card since she has been locked out for a few days now, and we get ready to go.

On our way out it feels as if the whole town has come to wave us goodbye from the main street. I give Sheree a big hug, and say goodbye to Mike, Jairo, Tony, Oscar, Omar, Marissa, etc..

Emmanuel is getting impatient and hurries us on.

The boat leaves quickly and we take off across the wondrous lake of Atitlan. I take some photos on my camera and some for Angelica as well. The boat speeds through, occasionally splashing us with water. My bag gets soaked but I don't mind. Glad to be on the move again.




We get to Panajachel half an hour later, the boat driver gives me the wrong change and I get into a heated argument with him, he think Im trying to hustle him but my determination convinces him otherwise.

Panajachel is not nearly as pretty as San Pedro, resembling a cross between a city and lakeside town. I go to a Western Union to pick up some money as the guys wait for me. Angelica tries to steal a beer from one of the shops but gets busted, we have a laugh and carry on to the second hand stores to try out shoes and boots and shirts, Emmanuel buys some cheap Doc Martens and Jenny some ski boots, we then hurry for the bus.

Im hungry so I buy a hotdog,

"What's on it?"
"Everything"
"What's everything?"
"Everything!"
"Fine.."

I find that a hotdog with everything means a hotdog with ketchup. I am sorely dissappointed, and 7 quetzales poorer.

I huff and walk off with my dodgy hotdog then hop on the bus. The Brazillians from San Pedro are there, we say hello but we're all too tired to talk, the bus's engines roar as it starts, thick black smoke blows out of the exhaust pipe, and we bounce along the cobblestone streets on our way to Guatemala City. I am glad to have left and sleep, cramped but comfortable.