Miguel with San Pedro volcano backdrop.In further excursions, Winston and I took kayaks out to see San Marcos, another small village along lake. A stupid or devious little Mayan lady pointed us in the wrong direction, turning a supposedly 40 minute paddle into an hour and a half workout. When we finally found our intended destination (where I thought it was originally until the little beast "corrected" me), we could barely walk up the hill into town. It seems that the opposing lateral effort by the legs to counter the paddling by the arms has an effect similar to riding a camel. You step onto solid ground feeling bow-legged and wobbly.
We recovered over a terrific meal in a tourist joint (green Thai curry?!) then walked over to this terrific park along the rocks with paths, benches, and a platform with a gate that opens out over the lake, about 40 feet above the water. It's quite the hangout and jumping spot.
Winston blissfully paddle-free.Afterward, Winston wisely convinced me that we didn't need to paddle back, but could pay the boatmen to throw our kayaks on the roof of the shuttle.
Dirty hippy.
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