Antigua Guatemala, unlike its capital, retains most of the traditional charm los guatemaltecos cultivate. It mirrors Old San Juan, except blue bricks are replaced with cobblestone streets. A rainbow of Spanish colonial townhouses tugs at my heartstrings. The town is tranquil; its streets are fairly abandoned apart from a few women selling necklaces and textiles from cloth bundles, or parches. My posse and I arrived on a Thursday night. At home, Thursday screams of block party festivities, a tradition that is not typically seen in small towns overseas (unless you’re on a direct flight to Mayagüez). I didn’t mind the quiet in the least. Antigua nightlife is rustic and charming, like a country summer fling – albeit, one that’s trying to get you trashed… shoutout to the cute blond! For just 10Q (a smidgen more than a dollar – $1.31, to be exact) you can spin the shots wheel and win anywhere from 2 oz of tequila to an entire row of multicolored screwdrivers (that’s an OJ with vodka for the prepas reading this). Ladies get, not one, but two free drinks in select bars, and a free shot if you’re brave enough to dance on the tabletops. Go for it girls, the vantage point up there is fire.
By day, Antigua is bustling; street vendors peddle hand-woven bracelets (my go-to gift for close friends), and offer to determine your Mayan symbol. Both foreigners and chapines, or locals, crowd the plazas. The smell of old books, leather and olotes guides you to the mercado, a labyrinth of artisanal crafts. Huipiles, handwoven textiles depicting exotic gardens, hang from every inch of the ceilings and walls. Crimson and magenta flowers pop over silhouettes of golden quetzals and turquoise vines. It’s like stepping into a whimsical wonderland.
The market entrance resides beside the crumbled remains of a nostalgic set of columns. Volcanoes circle the town, adding to the mystique of the lost city. Antigua used to be Guatemala’s capital, but disaster struck in the form of the Santa Marta earthquake. The entire population was forced to rebuild a safe haven now known as Guatemala City. Now, Antigua is inhabited by entrepreneurs trying to restore what was once lost. Small businesses and restaurants have found niches in which to blossom, lending hope to a prosperous future.
Painting by Patrick Delart
One such restaurant even found a niche in my heart! I’m no food critic, but my mother specializes in international cuisine, and I’ve never tried a crepe* that challenges hers. Luna de Miel, you’ve done the impossible. Where else can I savor a lemon curd crepe served in a puddle of sweet butter and a sheet of powdered sugar lighter than snowflakes? While simultaneously scanning the skies to spot one one FOUR volcanoes peaking out from behind a ring of clouds? And DO NOT even get me STARTED on their green smoothies. And nutella smoothies. My taste buds have become irrevocably spoiled. Savories aside, it’s safe to say Antigua stole my heart (and stomach).