Guatemala Blog #4 — Lake Atitlán: Boats, Bars, Hangry Moments & A Lightning Show Over the Lake
Lake Atitlán gave us everything — boat rides, bar hopping, hangry detours, ancient ruins, chicken buses, lightning storms, and pure chaos in between. Here’s how our two days on the lake turned into one of the wildest chapters of the trip.
Arriving in Panajachel — Our Base on the Lake
The morning after our (finally sensible) night in Antigua, Bryce and I packed up our bags, checked out of Tropicana, and made our way to the shuttle. We’d booked it through the hostel because it was cheaper and easier than trying to sort it out ourselves.
The ride to Panajachel took around 2.5 hours — winding mountain roads, misty views, and that classic Guatemalan “are we there yet?” vibe. We were wide awake, chatting quietly and trying not to disturb the other sleepy travellers around us.
When we arrived in Panajachel, we checked into Lodging Santo Domingo, our little guesthouse tucked off the main road. We specifically chose a private room because:
We knew we were going to be loud
We knew we were going to play drinking games
And we knew we were not going to bed early
The room wasn’t fancy, but it was perfect for what we needed: two beds, a bathroom, enough space to spread out our mess, and the freedom to be absolute chaos gremlins without disturbing anyone else.
We dropped our bags, looked at each other, and said:
“Boat time.”
It was time to explore the lake.
Dropped our bags and ran to the lake. Priorities.
Exploring San Pedro La Laguna (aka: La Laguna)
Locals don’t call it San Pedro.
They call it La Laguna.
So, we followed suit.
We headed down to the dock, hopped on one of the public boats, and took the quick ride across the lake. The weather wasn't great — cloudy, chilly, the kind of sky that makes you think rain is lurking just around the corner. But that didn’t stop us.
La Laguna turned out to be a vibe.
Bars everywhere
Colourful murals
Backpacker energy
And the kind of atmosphere that quietly says:
“This is where people come to party.”
Bryce was READY.
He wanted to stay out, hop between bars, and see what the nightlife looked like on this side of the lake.
But then reality kicked in.
We had no idea when the last boat back to Panajachel was.
We had no idea what transport would be like at night.
And I had zero interest in being stranded in La Laguna after dark.
So I said:
“Absolutely not. We can party… but we’re partying in Pana.”
Before catching the boat back, we found a little bar right on the water — the perfect spot to kill time. The view was unbelievable: the lake stretching out in front of us, volcano silhouettes in the distance, everything moody and dramatic because of the clouds.
We ordered drinks, took a bunch of selfies… and then a friendly local offered to take photos for us.
And oh my goodness — they turned out AMAZING.
Some of my favourite photos of us ever.
What we didn’t realize at the time?
We were posing right in front of Indian Nose (Rostro Maya) — one of the most iconic viewpoints on the lake. I genuinely thought it was just a cool-shaped mountain in the background. I didn’t realize until later that we accidentally nailed the classic Lake Atitlán shot.
We caught what I’m pretty sure was the last boat back around 6 p.m. and made it safely to the other side before the night chaos began.
And that’s where the real chaos started:
Bryce became hangry.
A stroll through La Laguna and a lakeside drink — plus the ‘famous’ viewpoint photo we didn’t even realize we were posing for.
The Hangry Episode (aka: The Left Turn Mistake)
Back in Pana, we dropped our stuff at the guesthouse and went in search of food.
According to Google Maps, all the restaurants were to the left.
So… we went left.
Which was, of course, the wrong choice.
Every restaurant on that side was western food — pizza, pasta, burgers. Normally that’s fine, but Bryce was sliding rapidly into Hangry Mode and desperately wanted something local.
With every step, he got more dramatic and more hangry.
(Meanwhile, the lake — and the actual good restaurants — were on the right side the whole time. I figured this out later when Bryce napped and I went exploring. Oops.)
Eventually, after surviving Bryce’s escalating hunger monologue, we finally found a local restaurant and sat down before he turned into a full gremlin.
Crisis narrowly avoided.
We ate, walked back to the guesthouse, and immediately pulled out the rum.
Proof that a good meal can save a friendship — Bryce seconds before the hanger fully lifted.
That Night — Two Very Different Evenings
Back in our room, we poured drinks, played a few drinking games, and did what we always do: talk, laugh, tell stories, and debate ridiculous topics while trying different Gatorade flavours like we were running scientific experiments.
Eventually, though… Bryce hit a wall.
A big, tired, hangry, emotional wall.
He crawled into bed for what he promised would be “a quick nap.”
Meanwhile, I still had energy and zero desire to sleep. So I slipped out of the room quietly and wandered down toward the lake.
And it was magic.
I found a quiet bar perched right over the water — just me, a drink, no Wi-Fi, and the most incredible lightning show happening across the lake. Sheets of white light flashed behind the mountains but never reached me. No rain. No thunder. Just nature putting on a dramatic light show.
It felt unreal — peaceful, eerie, and beautiful all at once.
After about an hour and a half, I started heading back.
Halfway down the road, I saw Bryce walking toward me, scanning the street like a worried mother.
He’d woken up, realized I’d been gone longer than expected, panicked, and come out to look for me.
We reunited in the street like two idiots who can’t stay out of trouble.
Then naturally, we went back to the room…
…and played more drinking games until 2 or 3 a.m.
No thunder, no rain — just the whole lake lighting up like a movie scene.
Day 2: No Plan, No Sleep, No Budget — Let’s Go to a Mayan Ruin
We woke up late, slightly fragile, and with absolutely no plan.
Renting a bike or ATV sounded fun…
until we saw the prices.
Instant cancellation. Out of budget.
So we Googled “things to do near Lake Atitlán” and found Iximché — a Mayan ruin about an hour away. It looked chill, manageable, and perfectly matched our “low energy but still want adventure” mood.
We booked an Uber, cruised out there, and honestly?
It was lovely.
Peaceful, open, quiet. We wandered the old stone platforms, took photos, learned a bit, and annoyed each other by jumping into each other’s pictures like we always do.
When we were done, we assumed we could just… Uber back.
Yeah. No.
There were no Ubers in the area. None. The app basically said, “Good luck.”
So we looked at each other and said:
“…Let’s walk to the nearest town and try again.”
Because apparently, we enjoy suffering.
No ride home, no plan… but hey, we still learned something.
A Mystery Walk, a Christmas Restaurant & Still No Ubers
We walked.
And walked.
And walked.
Past fields, through quiet neighbourhoods, along roads that may or may not have been real roads. Only Bryce had spotty Wi-Fi, and I never bought a SIM card for Guatemala, so we were basically guessing our way along.
Eventually, we stumbled on La Forêt Maya — a tiny hidden restaurant beautifully decorated for Christmas. Twinkly lights, ornaments, that cozy holiday vibe that feels slightly out of place but also absolutely perfect.
We sat down and had one of the best meals of the entire Lake Atitlán trip.
Warm, delicious, and exactly what we needed after wandering around like clueless backpackers in the middle of nowhere.
After lunch, we kept walking until we reached the next town: Tecpán, Guatemala.
This, surely, would be our Uber salvation.
…Nope.
Still no Ubers.
Which left us with only one option:
The chicken bus.
Walking… and walking… and walking — but at least the views (and eventual food) were worth it.
The Chicken Bus Odyssey (Three Buses, No Clue Where We Were)
For context:
My Guatemalan friend had very clearly warned me not to take chicken buses.
No seatbelts
Wild driving
Constant accident stories
But there we were — stranded, tired, and completely out of options.
So yes… we climbed onto a chicken bus like two idiots embracing fate.
This part of the story is fuzzy because we truly had no idea where we were at any given time, but here’s the basic outline:
Bus #1 dropped us on a random stretch of highway
A kind local pointed us toward the next bus
Bus #2 took us to another town, where yet another person helped us find the right connection
Bus #3 finally headed toward Panajachel
Every time we got off a bus, someone was there to point us toward the next one. Drivers, passengers, random people on the street — everyone was so helpful.
They definitely thought we were crazy.
And honestly? We were.
But eventually…
We made it back to Pana.
Alive.
Sweaty.
Exhausted.
Absolutely ready for rum.
Standing room only, zero seatbelts, and somehow still safer than our decision-making.
The Bush Incident, Dinner on the Water & Our Last Lake Night
Back at the guesthouse, we immediately poured ourselves a drink. We had earned it.
That night we went for dinner by the water — finally walking the right direction toward the lake this time. We found a lovely spot overlooking the water: calm, peaceful, and the complete opposite of our chaotic day.
Later, back at the guesthouse, we did what we do best: more drinking games, more laughing, more “how did we survive that?” conversations.
At one point during a bathroom break, Bryce randomly pushed me into the garden.
I may or may not have broken the little “gate” that was there.
To this day, neither of us knows why he pushed me — the bathrooms were outside, there was plenty of space… and yet, into the bushes I went.
We still joke about it.
The hangry episode. The garden shove. The broken gate.
Peak Bryce and JD energy.
It was the perfect, ridiculous ending to our time at the lake.
Ending our Lake Atitlán trip the only way we know how: questionable card games and even more questionable decisions.
Back to Guatemala City — Movie Naps & One Last Goodbye
The next morning, we packed up, checked out, and took a shuttle back to Guatemala City. A long Uber would’ve been way too expensive, so shuttle it was.
I had booked us a guesthouse.
Or… I thought I had.
When we arrived, the owner looked at us and said:
“No rooms left.”
Excuse me, WHAT?
Instead of turning us away, they walked us to a second guesthouse down the street. It was behind a gate, a little run-down, and definitely not in the location listed online. But by that point, after the chicken-bus odyssey and all our chaos, my brain just went:
“If I’m about to get murdered, at least it’s with my best friend.”
We dropped our bags, looked at each other, and made the only logical decision:
Movie time!
We went to see the new Marvel movie — bought tickets for the English showing, grabbed popcorn and drinks for under $5, and settled in like two exhausted legends.
The movie began.
It was not in English.
There were no English subtitles.
I lasted maybe twenty minutes before I passed out completely.
Truly one of the best naps of my trip.
We didn’t stay up too late that night — Bryce had an afternoon flight — but we still finished the last of our rum, played more games, and talked about life, travel, and when we might see each other again.
So excited for the new Marvel movie… until it started and we realized it wasn’t in English.
The next morning hit us right in the feelings.
Once Bryce and I checked out of the guesthouse, we ordered an Uber with two stops — first the airport for him, then Tequila Sunrise Hostel for me.
And the moment we got in?
We started talking.
Nonstop.
Like we always do.
A full recap of the trip.
The chicken bus saga.
The garden-pushing incident.
Who was more hungover.
Why rum + Gatorade is elite.
All the classics.
We probably talked the driver’s ear off.
It felt like trying to squeeze every last joke, every last moment, into the short ride before reality separated us again.
But as we got closer to the airport, the energy shifted — not quiet, just softer. That familiar “oh no, it’s goodbye time” heaviness.
We pulled up to the terminal, hugged tight, and I watched Bryce roll his carry-on toward the entrance. As soon as he disappeared into the crowd, it hit me:
There was no chance I was staying alone in that sketchy guesthouse.
The Uber continued to my stop, and the moment Tequila Sunrise Hostel came into view, I felt my whole body relax. My safe base. My familiar capsule bed. My hot showers. My Wi-Fi. My people.
I checked in, showered, reset my brain, and spent the afternoon at the Museo Ixchel del Traje Indígena — a beautiful textile museum I wish I still had photos of.
That night, I finally slowed down, pulled out my notebook, and planned my next move.
Río Dulce was next.
A brand-new adventure — this time just for me.
Our final Pana selfie — the end of one adventure and the start of mine.
