Guatemala

Stretching from the steamy lowland forests of El Petén to the dry tropics of the Río Motagua valley, and from the edge of the Western Highlands to the Caribbean Sea, this is Guatemala's most diverse region.

Mitt i Guatemalas hjärta gömmer sig en oas. Inbäddad i regnskogens djup, långt ifrån civilisation och bekvämligheter. Semuc Champey, den feta vattenparken varje resenär med barnasinnet kvar drömmer om.

This region is an interesting mix of local villages, often with little Spanish spoken in favor of Indigenous languages, larger cities and some truly top-notch tourist attractions. It can be beastly hot at times, particularly just before the rainy season from February to May. Oddly, this is when some of the sights are best visited, as they are most known for swimming, spelunking, or getting wet and muddy.

Lívingston is unlike anywhere else in Guatemala. Its Garifuna people, their colors, culture, rhythms, flavors, and disposition, are the best reason to visit – nowhere else in Guatemala will you find such a fun and relaxed vibe. But it's not just the people: good beaches are nearby and the slow-and-easy take on life is enchanting. Here boats lie derelict in picturesque decay; people paddleboard or kayak lazily amid refreshing ocean breezes; and pelicans soar overhead as happy hour starts in late afternoon. It's just lovely.

With its pastel houses cascading down from a central plaza to the emerald waters of Lago de Petén Itzá, the island town of Flores evokes Venice or somewhere Mediterranean. A 0.3-mile (500m) causeway connects Flores to its humbler sister town of Santa Elena on the mainland, which then merges into the community of San Benito to the west. The three towns actually form one large settlement, often referred to simply as Flores.

Flipflopturism i hippa byar, möten med rester av mäktiga mayaimperier och vandring i ångande regnskog. Vi reser till Guatemala och finner ett våldsamt förflutet men också stor skönhet och gränslös gästfrihet.

Depending on who you talk to, Guatemala City (or Guate as it's also known) is either big, dirty, dangerous and utterly forgettable, or big, dirty, dangerous and utterly fascinating. Either way, there's no doubt there's an energy here unlike anywhere else in Guatemala. It's a place where dilapidated buses belch fumes next to BMWs and Hummers, and where skyscrapers drop shadows on shantytowns.

The highlands – El Altiplano – stretch from Antigua to the Mexican border; they comprise Guatemala's most breathtaking region by some degree. Maya identity is stronger here than anywhere in the country and over a dozen distinct groups dwell within the region, each with its own language and clothing. Indigenous tradition blends most tantalizingly with Spanish, and it is common to see Maya rituals taking place in front of and inside colonial churches.

The busiest and most built-up lakeside town, Panajachel ('Pana') is the gateway to Lago de Atitlán for most travelers. Strolling the main street, Calle Santander – crammed with travel agencies, handicraft hawkers and rowdy bars, dodging tuk-tuks all the way – you may be forgiven for supposing this paradise lost.

Santiago Atitlán is the largest of the lake communities, with a strong indigenous identity. Many atitecos (as its people are known) proudly adhere to a traditional Tz'utujil Maya lifestyle. Women wear purple-striped skirts and huipiles embroidered with colored birds and flowers, while older men still wear lavender or maroon striped embroidered pants. The town's cofradías (brotherhoods) maintain the syncretic traditions and rituals of Maya Catholicism. There's a large arts and crafts scene here too. Boatbuilding is a local industry, and rows of rough-hewn cayucos (dugout canoes) are lined up along the shore. The liveliest days to visit are Friday and Sunday, the main market days, but any day will do.