Tag: Monterrico

  • Poopie el Pulpo, Madre Viedja, Guatemala

    Poopie el Pulpo, Madre Viedja, Guatemala

    Pop on your togs as we say buenos dias to Poopie el Pulpo. But just a warning – this oversized octopus is armed and dangerously cute!

    The purple playboy takes pride of place in the pool of the exclusive Hotel Pazifico, in the Guatemalan tourist town of Madre Viedja.

    Named after the resort’s beloved founder, Salvador ‘Poopie’ Sanchez, this majestic mollusc straddles the line between hyperrealism and whimsical exuberance. There’s just something so fun about the way he waves his suckers in the air.

    I squid you not, this is one Big worth travelling to Central America for!

    Jumping into the pool is the only way to get up close and personal with Poopie, and that may present issues for our more squeamish readers. The resort has taken out the coveted award for Guatemala’s Poopiest Pool Water™ three years running, something the staff are understandably proud of.

    I think you’ll agree that a brief spell of gastroenteritis is a small price to pay for the opportunity to take a photo with a garishly-painted concrete octopus.

    A Kraken Good Time

    Located just metres from the golden shores of the Pacific Ocean – and a few minutes from Los Amigos del Pescador – Hotel Pazifico shows off the fun and flavour Guatemalans are famous for. There are waterslides and gardens full of statues, as well as a beachside restaurant with sublime views out over the water.

    The ceviche, I can confirm, is luscious. But you’d better go with the prawns, rather than the calamari – you don’t want to upset The Big Octopus.

    Whilst Pazifico’s rooms are a little run-down, they do all look out onto el Pulpo, so I guess it’s better than spending the night in a tent-acle – teehee!

    But the real ‘El Pulpo’ was Gustav, a German tourist who seemingly lives in the shallow end of the pool and is all hands whenever someone swims nearby. Despite guzzling bottle after bottle of Monte Carlo cerveza, this amphibious pleasure-seeker never once climbed out of the brine to use el baño.

    “There you go, Salvador,” Gustav giggled, as he wallowed in the browning pool water. “Looks like you’ve got that title wrapped up for another year!”

  • Los Amigos del Pescador, Monterrico, Guatemala

    Los Amigos del Pescador, Monterrico, Guatemala

    At Fisherman’s Restaurant, diners come for the giant fish sculpture in the parking lot, and stay for the opportunity to suffer an intestinal fissure.

    I’m Señor Bigs Bardot, and I risked my very life this story.

    Opened in 2024, ‘Fisho’s’ quickly became the gastronomical darling of Monterrico, that splash of resorts on the rugged south coast of Guatemala. It’s the place to be seen for the country’s glitterati – yes, even Raoul Gutiérrez has eaten there!

    The restaurante was full to overflowing when Bigella and I touched down in the Land of the Bigs helicopter, right next to Los Amigos del Pescador (The Fisherman’s Friends). Our fellow patrons – pulpo and cerveza dripping down their chins – welcomed us with open arms.

    After being seated by the pool, we pored over the sprawling menu. Umming and ahhing between the salmón teriyaki and the mojarra frita, we finally settled on the ceviche tradicional.

    “You can’t go wrong with that,” Bigella said ominously.

    Service was thoughtfully relaxed, providing us with plenty of time to pop outside for photos with Los Amigos del Pescador. The billfish are known, humorously, as Marlin Brando and Alexei Sailfish.

    Sleek and stylish, they’re widely regarded as mascots of Monterrico – which the locals claim to be the Sailfish Capital of the World.

    When we returned to our table, hearts full of hope, our scrumptious seafood dinner was waiting for us.

    And that, my friends, is when it all went wrong.

    El Ceviche de la Muerte

    Our ceviche looked absolutely delightful, tantalising us with its zesty, fishy goodness. The bowl was overflowing with succulent prawns, juicy calamari and fresh-caught crab. But there was something extra special – a few strands of razor-sharp steel wool from a scouring brush.

    Worst of all, I almost ate it!

    “I don’t have time to die today,” I gagged bravely, plucking the filthy metal shards from my mouth. “I haven’t yet achieved my goal of bringing world peace through Big Things.”

    Catarina, our waitress, looked suitably horrified when I presented her with the jagged condiment.

    “Well, I’ve been meaning to get more iron in my diet!” I giggled as I handed back the contaminated meal. My ribald comment missed the mark, but Catarina did swap out the tainted food for a plate of camarones empanizados, which were just gorgeous.

    The moment, however, had been ruined. Next time Bigella and I feel like a ceviche, we’ll stick with good ol’ Automoriscos in Palín, where the only danger is falling in love with the big dolphins out the front.

    Los Amigos del Pescador are muy bonito but, ultimately, not worth risking colonic rupture for.