San Francisco El Alto y Momostenango

Not one to turn a good market down, I ventured to the San Francisco El Alto Market on Friday. It has to have been, for me, the most intense market I have experienced. You don’t stroll through, you get sucked in through the vortex and there is some surreal guiding force that leads you through the streets. The entire town was a market, a maze of colours, sounds and smells. People are constantly shouldering their way past you as they try to navigate the narrow passages.

On any day, this is an exhausting experience, but with a hangover, a little more harrowing. Following is some video from the top of the market, and trust me, this is the gentle and relaxed part where the animals are. There is no way I would have been able to stand still long enough to take a picture in the other part.

Some corrections to the narration in that video, the volcano I pointed out was, in fact, Santa Maria (3772m). The highest point in Central America is Tajmulco at 4220m.

On Sunday, the last full day in Xela and Lucy’s birthday and we headed to Momostenango. This market is apparently known for its woollen blankets and ponchos. And who was I to say no to buying another blanket? That makes six now.

Momos is a somewhat more relaxed market experience than San Francisco and we were relieved to find a little van set up as a restaurant. We perched ourselves up on the stool to share a hair of the dog before venturing further. When I told the proprietress, Angelina, it was Lucy’s birthday, she joined the cheer by giving us a free bowl of noodles and chicken. How nice.

It was at that place though, after I’d just finished eating, that a swarm of bees took a distinct interest in me. It would have been hilarious had I not been so scared. Angelina was encouraging us to light cigarettes and the smoke would scare them away. I couldn’t stand still long enough to do that and was instead performing some kind of dance in the street, really just jumping and moving to keep away from them. I was imagining riding home on the chicken bus, covered in bee stings. Unfortunately my gyrations attracted a bit of an audience with a number of the locals stopping in their tracks to watch me. Finally the cigarette trick worked (for a little while) so we finished our beer and got the hell out of there.