Guatemala Beginnings — From Belize to a Brand-New Adventure
From water taxis to cold beers to ancient ruins — Flores had me doing a little bit of everything.
Before crossing the border, I didn’t know much about Guatemala — not beyond the usual highlights that show up on every traveller’s bucket list. I knew the names: Flores, Tikal, Semuc Champey, Lake Atitlán, and Antigua. And I had a bit of insider info from my friend Gabriel, who I met in Rome years ago and who’s actually from Guatemala.
But everything else?
History? Wildlife? Politics? Cultural background?
Not a clue.
Still, I was excited — excited to enter a new country, excited to keep moving through Central America, and excited to meet up with my best friend, Bryce, later on for his birthday.
This was a fresh start. A new adventure. A new country to get lost in.
I crossed the border knowing only the famous names… and Yaxhá was my first clue that Guatemala is so much more than its bucket-list highlights.
Crossing the Border — Cantonese Vaccination Card & the World’s Quietest Checkpoint
The Belize–Guatemala border was completely deserted when I arrived.
No buses.
No other travellers.
No lines.
Not even a hint of chaos.
Normally, when I don’t know where to go, I just follow other people and pretend I know exactly what I’m doing. But here?
There was no one to follow.
Just me and a few bored-looking officers watching me walk up like I’d taken a wrong turn.
I went straight to customs, ready to get stamped in — but the officer waved me away and pointed toward another window. The “health” booth. Because this was still the tail end of Covid, they wanted to check COVID vaccination cards first.
So, I handed mine over… the one written mostly in Cantonese, because I got vaccinated in Hong Kong.
The health worker looked at the paper.
Then at me.
Then back at the paper.
Then at me again.
Pure confusion.
I started pointing at the dates like, “Okay, so, this is my first one… and this is my second…,” hoping it would help. I’m still not sure she understood anything, but she handed me the health ticket anyway — probably because she didn’t want to deal with a Hong Kong vaccination card written in a language she didn’t recognize.
I took the ticket back to customs, handed it over, and the officer stamped my passport without a single question.
Easiest border crossing ever.
Entering Guatemala the quietest way possible: alone, masked, and hoping my Cantonese vaccine card made sense to someone.
Finding the Van to Flores — Roadside Money Exchange & A Front-Seat Ride
Once outside, it was still completely empty.
No signs.
No crowds.
No vans lined up.
No info desk.
Thank goodness for offline Google Maps.
I followed the road until a white van came toward me with “FLORES” written on the windshield in white marker. I waved it down immediately.
The driver slowed, rolled down his window, and said, “Flores?”
“Yes!” I practically shouted.
Before I even got in, we exchanged USD for quetzales on the side of the road. Super normal for Central America. Then he helped me toss my big backpack into the back and let me sit up front.
He told me his name was Jorge — around my age, friendly, handsome, and he spoke a little English.
I was the only backpacker he picked up.
Everyone else who got on along the way was a local hopping between small towns.
We talked the entire two-hour drive — about Guatemala, travel, places to see, life in Canada, Hong Kong — everything.
When your ride to Flores looks questionable… but turns out to be completely legit.
Arriving in Flores — AKA, My “Where the F… Am I?” Moment
The plan was to get off at the bus station in Flores, but here’s the thing no one tells you:
Flores (the city) is on the mainland.
Flores Island — where all the backpackers stay — is across the water.
But they’re both just called Flores, which is extremely unhelpful.
So when the van pulled into the bus station and stopped, I looked around and thought:
“Where the f… am I?”
There was no water.
No colourful buildings.
No island.
No backpackers.
Just a dusty station and confusion.
Luckily, Jorge already knew I was staying on the island — we’d talked about it the entire ride — so he must’ve seen my face twisting into full panic mode while I stared at Google Maps like it was ancient hieroglyphics.
As he parked, he said:
“I can drive you closer if you like. You just have to wait until I finish here.”
I didn’t even hesitate.
Yes. Absolutely. Yes, please.
He even laughed and said, “Taxi drivers charge backpackers more than locals,” which was exactly what I was worried about.
So, I stayed inside the van while he hopped out to finish paperwork. I kept checking Google Maps trying to figure out how far the island was (far), and a few minutes later he returned.
No extra charge. No weirdness. Just genuine kindness.
He drove me across the bridge onto Flores Island and dropped me off near the water taxi area.
Before I got out, we made a plan:
Meet at Los Amigos in 30 minutes.
His uncle José would join too.
Guatemala was already giving me good vibes.
Confused, lost, and on the wrong side of the water… until Jorge saved the day and dropped me on Flores Island.
Taking the Water Taxi — Everything First-Timers Need to Know
Once you’re on the island, everything is walkable — but many hostels sit on the water, and the easiest way to reach them is by water taxi.
There’s no official ticket booth.
No counters.
No schedules posted anywhere.
You just walk up to the men standing near the boats, say where you’re going, and they tell you the price.
Thankfully, Jorge had already told me the correct price — 20 quetzales — so I didn’t have to negotiate or worry about being charged tourist rates.
The boat ride was short and peaceful. The water was calm, the lake mirrored the pastel buildings on Flores Island, and for the first time that day, everything felt easy.
The boat dropped me right at the dock of my hostel:
Hostal Casa de Grethel.
Talk about convenience.
Flores water taxi central — no tickets, no signs, just walk up and ask.
Hostal Casa de Grethel — A Completely Empty Hostel
I walked inside and immediately realized:
I was the only guest.
No backpacks.
No shoes by the door.
No noise.
No dorm room chaos.
Just silence.
Honestly?
It felt like déjà vu — Belize had been filled with quiet hostels too. Either I was incredibly lucky, or I kept accidentally booking places at the slowest times possible.
Either way, an entire lakeside hostel to myself?
No complaints.
I dropped my bag, changed quickly, and headed back to meet Jorge and José.
Just me, a couple of couches, and an empty common room while I figured out what to do next.
Los Amigos — My First Guatemalan Meal, New Friends & “Ron y Coke”
Los Amigos was impossible to miss — bright, colourful, loud, full of plants and lanterns. And inside?
Packed.
The place was wall-to-wall people — backpackers, locals, families — and I didn’t see a single empty table.
Luckily, Jorge and José had already grabbed one of the last spots and were waving for me to squeeze in.
I ordered my first Guatemalan meal — a steak dinner for around $10 USD — and it tasted incredible after a long travel day.
While we ate, Jorge and José started teaching me Spanish.
And the first phrase I learned?
Ron y Coke.
Rum and Coke.
Arguably the most useful phrase for the next few months of backpacking.
Every time I mispronounced something, they burst out laughing and corrected me. It was friendly, warm, and the perfect start to my time in Guatemala.
When we finished eating, Jorge grinned and said:
“There’s music upstairs. Want to go dancing?”
I said yes immediately.
José shook his head, smiled, and said he was “too old to dance,” then headed home.
So Jorge and I went upstairs.
Celebrating my first night in Guatemala with an ice-cold Gallo — and two new friends I somehow forgot to photograph.
Dancing the Night Away (Featuring My One Spanish Song: Gasolina)
Upstairs was technically a club, but because of the day of the week, there was no DJ — just a laptop on a table where people took turns choosing songs.
Did that stop anyone?
Absolutely not.
The energy was great — loud music, sweaty people, dancing everywhere. And this is where I learned:
Guatemalan men can dance.
Like… really dance.
Spins, rhythm, footwork — all of it. Jorge was great on the dance floor, and we jumped right in, dancing with locals and backpackers without any awkward warm-up.
At one point he leaned in and asked:
“Which song do you want?”
Since I only knew one Spanish song — just one — I marched up to the laptop and typed in Gasolina like I owned the place.
Everyone laughed when it started, but then they all went wild, shouting the lyrics and dancing like they’d been waiting all night for someone to pick it.
It was perfect.
Around 11:30 p.m., I realized the last boat back to my hostel was about to leave, so I told Jorge I had to go. He walked me down to the dock, we said our goodbyes, and I crossed the lake back to my completely empty hostel.
And I remembered…
I was supposed to wake up early for the Tikal tour.
Yeah… that wasn’t happening.
Proof I was there: not the dancing… just the bathroom.
Missing Tikal (Twice) & The Unexpected Pivot to Yaxhá
The next morning I woke up moving like a sloth — zero regrets, but absolutely no chance I was catching any sunrise tour.
No problem, I thought.
My hostel told me there was a 12:30 p.m. tour.
Except…
There wasn’t.
Or it was full.
Or maybe not running.
Honestly, everyone gave me different answers.
But Guatemala has a funny way of nudging you toward something else.
The hostel staff mentioned another option:
Yaxhá.
A quieter, less-visited Mayan site.
Jungle views.
And an incredible sunset.
I didn’t know anything about it, but I said yes instantly.
Best impulsive decision of the trip.
Waiting for my tour to (hopefully) start… at least the lunch view was worth it.
Yaxhá — Jungle Temples, Monkey Sightings & a Sunset I Never Saw Coming
A taxi picked me up, and I shared the ride with two travellers who had booked a guided tour. I was doing the solo wander-and-take-too-many-photos version.
The paved road eventually turned into a long, bumpy gravel one — the kind that rattles your teeth and makes you rethink every life decision. By the time we reached the entrance, I was ready to stretch.
The guide handed out three maps — one for each of the two travellers… and one for me. I definitely wasn’t part of his tour, but I think he took one look at me and thought:
“Nope. Not losing this one today.”
He pointed at the map and said:
“Meet here at 5 p.m.”
Pointing at the main temple.
No explanation.
No reason.
Naturally, I assumed it meant:
Don’t be late. That’s our leaving point.
He left with his two actual clients, and I went off exploring — climbing everything I legally could, taking a million photos, and wandering between ruins at my own pace.
Exploring Yaxhá at my own pace… climbing temples, taking photos, and soaking in every jungle moment.
At one point, I heard loud roaring echoes in the jungle — unmistakably howler monkeys. After being surrounded by them every day at Wildtracks in Belize, I knew that sound instantly.
Later, I spotted spider monkeys swinging through the trees — finally! I didn’t get to see any monkeys in the wild while in Belize, so this felt like a win.
Naturally, I took a million blurry photos trying to capture them mid-swing.
Howler monkey somewhere in this photo — 10 points if you find it.
Around 5 p.m., I climbed up the main temple to meet the guide, expecting we’d be leaving soon. Instead, I found a crowd — travellers, families, couples — all facing the lake.
I finally asked:
“So… when are we leaving?”
The guide blinked at me and said:
“After the sunset.”
And that was the moment everything clicked.
We were here for the sunset.
Watching a sunset is my favourite time of day, so I wasn’t arguing — especially not with views like this.
The sky turned gold, then orange, then soft pink, reflecting across the lake and the endless jungle canopy.
Then the guide pointed out across the treetops:
“Look — that’s Tikal. Temple IV.”
And there it was — the tiny top of Tikal poking above the jungle.
After missing two Tikal tours that day…
I still got to see Tikal.
Not how I planned it,
but honestly?
Perfect.
Golden hour at Yaxhá — peaceful, quiet, and perfect.
Back to Flores — Food, Packing & My Next Adventure
When the sun finally disappeared, the site closed. We made the long, bumpy drive back to Flores Island, where the taxi dropped us off at the small tourist pickup point by the bridge.
I was starving, so I walked around looking for food, but eventually ended up back at Los Amigos — because I already knew the food was good.
After eating, I took a water taxi back to my quiet hostel, showered, and packed up for the next day.
Because in the morning, I was off to Semuc Champey.
The lake was still, the island glowing—my final moment in Flores.
