Hiking Pacaya

A Spur-of-the-Moment Decision That Old Me Would’ve Never Made

I hiked Pacaya volcano last weekend- one of 3 active volcanoes in Guatemala — and it was a completely spur-of-the-moment decision. The kind of decision old Allison absolutely would not have made. Past me would’ve had this excursion booked months ago, laminated confirmation emails, backup plans A through Z, and probably a spreadsheet.

But there’s something liberating about having nothing but time. It lets you move on instinct. So when I walked past a hostel offering Pacaya tours, I ducked inside and promised myself the entire transaction would be in Spanish.

And god damn it, I did it.

Sure, I wondered if I actually understood the pickup time… or if I’d misunderstood everything and signed myself up for a salsa class instead. But the next morning at 5:30 a.m., I was standing outside the hostel — no contact number, no backup plan — simply trusting that if no one showed, oh well, there’s always tomorrow.

What a luxury it is to have time.
And what a reminder of how rarely we let ourselves feel that.

A Spanish Tour, a Clear Sky, and a Surprisingly Steady Mind

Our guide gave the entire tour in Spanish — a blessing for my immersion goals and ego equally. And shockingly, I understood almost everything he said: lava formations, past eruptions, nearby pueblitas. I was tracking right along with him.

I’ve hiked volcanoes before — Mt. Etna in Sicily, and later Mt. Batur in Bali. Batur was brutal: a 3:30 a.m. start, hiking two hours in the dark on steep, slippery terrain while questioning every life decision that led me there. But watching the sunrise at the summit remains one of my proudest solo-travel memories.

And that trip held real emotional weight — my first solo adventure ever, and the first big trip post–divorce #1. It cracked something open in me. It made space for a future version of myself I could barely imagine then.

Pacaya’s Views — and a Lesson I Needed

Pacaya was breathtaking. A crystal-clear day with views all the way to Guatemala City. But the real gift was the pace.

I didn’t rush.
I didn’t force myself to keep up with the two Swiss women practically sprinting up the mountain like it was a casual Tuesday on the Alps.
I paused when I needed to.
I continued when I was ready.

A gentle reminder: life isn’t a race to the top.

Marshmallows, Lava Rocks, and Unexpected Memories

On the way back down, we stopped to roast marshmallows over hot lava rocks — a strange, delightful, only-in-Guatemala moment. It instantly reminded me of my visit ten years ago to the burning rocks of Yanartaş (Mount Chimaera) in Olympos, Turkey.

And strangely… or maybe not so strangely… Husband #1 (Mike) drifted into my thoughts.

Being here, doing this alone, made me look back at that earlier journey. Not with longing, and not with sadness — but with a surprising sense of calm. I found myself comparing that year-long trip we took together with the one I’m on now:

What’s similar.
What’s different.
What mattered then.
What matters now.

I’ve done enough inner work to look back at that time with appreciation, affection, admiration, and genuine gratitude for what we accomplished together. That year taught me so much about how to travel — slowly, with curiosity, with openness — and I can feel myself carrying those lessons with me now.

There was a time when memories of that life stirred complicated feelings. I’d wonder:
Do I miss him? Did we make a mistake? Is this intuition? Nostalgia? Something else?

But time — plus growth, plus a lot of emotional heavy lifting — has softened all of that.

Now, when I think about those moments, I simply feel grateful. Grateful for that version of me, grateful for that version of him, and grateful that all of it shaped the woman who can stand on the side of a volcano today feeling steady, grounded, and at peace with the entire arc of her life so far.

A Journey That Keeps Teaching Me Things

Pacaya wasn’t just a hike. It was a reminder of who I’ve been, who I’m becoming, and how beautiful it feels when the past and present finally stop fighting each other and start coexisting.

Spur-of-the-moment decisions.
Conversations in Spanish.
Trusting timing.
Taking my time.
Letting the journey unfold without gripping it to death.

Somewhere between the marshmallows, the altitude, and the memories of two very different versions of myself… I realized:
I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

-A