Five Days in Guatemala
JUST A TWO-HOUR FLIGHT FROM MIAMI, THIS CENTRAL AMERICAN NEIGHBOR DELIVERS BIG ON CULTURE, NATURE, AND AUTHENTICITY
Guatemala doesn’t try to impress you. It doesn’t come with the sleek branding of Costa Rica or the all-inclusive polish of Cancún. But spend a few days here – walking through centuries-old plazas, riding horse-back up a volcano, or sipping coffee grown a few hills away – and you wonder why it took so long to get there. Touching down in Guatemala City after a flight that felt shorter than an episode of ‘The Bear,’ we headed straight for Antigua, the country’s former capital and a well-preserved colonial town.
The 90-minute drive winds from the city into a valley flanked by volcanoes. Cobblestones replace pavement, hand-painted signs replace neon, and color spills from wooden doors and clay-tiled roofs. Laundry flaps from balconies. Schoolchildren walk home in groups. It feels lived-in, not curated.
Antigua is a weekend getaway for Guatemala City locals and it’s still not overrun with international tourists. Small, walkable, and full of surprises, it’s a town that rewards wandering. Around every corner: a shaded courtyard, a crumbling church, or a hidden café behind a 200-year-old door.
We stayed at Las Farolas, a modest hotel with a quiet garden and mountain views, a short walk from Central Park, where time slows. Teenagers linger under trees, vendors sell fruit and woven bracelets, and couples sit quietly on benches. A walking tour gave context to the history surrounding us: the Palace of the Captains General, the earthquake-damaged yet graceful Cathedral of San José. The National Museum of Art (MUNAG), in a restored colonial building, blends classical and contemporary works that trace Guatemala’s evolving identity. At the Jade Museum, the stone once sacred to the Maya is reimagined into modern sculpture and jewelry. Antigua doesn’t hide its past – it wears it openly.
Dinner near La Merced Church was simple but perfect – tamales in banana leaves, black beans with crema, warm tortillas. Later, we wandered into lively bars disguised as old homes. Inside, music, laughter, and glowing screens filled the space – an unexpected mix of old walls and new energy.
We left Antigua before sunrise for Volcán Pacaya, two hours away. At the base, local guides waited with walking sticks and horses. Most visitors hike, but horseback lets you conserve energy for the summit – and it’s more fun. My horse galloped confidently up the rocky trail, wind in my hair, volcano ahead.
The higher we climbed, the more the landscape shifted – from forest to jagged lava rock. Near the summit, guides cooked pizza on volcanic stone, the crust crisped by heat from underground. We roasted marshmallows over steaming vents, laughing at the absurd joy of toasting sugar on an active volcano.
From Pacaya, the pace slows as you approach Lake Atitlán. The road curves through quiet villages before revealing a vast blue mirror surrounded by volcanoes. From the lookout in San Antonio Palopó you can see boats trace ripples between distant shores. Think Lake Como – only wilder, and Central American. We stayed at Villa Santa Catarina, a quiet lakeside hotel just outside Panajachel. Perfect for the views.
The next morning, we crossed the lake to San Juan La Laguna, a model for community-led tourism. Streets are lined with murals celebrating Mayan culture, and women in traditional dress head to weaving collectives. We rode a tuk-tuk three-wheeler up to the Kaqasiiwaan Viewpoint, past homes and maize fields. At a women’s cooperative, we watched thread dyed naturally with herbs and minerals – crimson from plants, pink from avocado pits – spun and woven entirely by hand. At a tiny chocolate workshop, cacao was ground on a stone metate and served warm with cinnamon, rich and earthy.
Lunch at Deleite Ancestral was like stepping into someone’s home. In the open-air kitchen, shaped like a clay jug, the chef cooked over an open flame, explaining the cultural meaning of each dish – tamales, seed-thickened stews, tortillas hot off the comal.
That evening, we drove back to Guatemala City and checked into the Barceló, a modern contrast after days in small towns. The next morning, we caught the red-eye to Flores, the capital of the Petén region and gateway to the ancient Maya world.
Flores sits on an island in Lake Petén Itzá. After breakfast by the water, we headed to Tikal National Park. Nothing prepares you for it: dense jungle, then suddenly, towering pyramids breaking through the canopy. Only part of this ancient city is excavated, but its scale is staggering. From the top of Temple IV, the jungle stretches endlessly, broken only by other pyramid peaks. Howler monkeys roared somewhere close – deep, primal – and spider monkeys swung above us. It felt both ancient and alive.
The next day, tired but content, we realized how easy it all was – a direct flight, no jet lag, yet experiences that are a world away.
