New Year’s Eve

Last yoga class of 2025 - Earth Lodge.

Day 6

I wasn’t going to make it through this whole trip without a yoga class, and what better way to close out the year. A free shuttle picked me and my new friend Brinley up from the center of town and took us up into the mountains to a fancy hotel called Earth Lodge for a 9 am class.

When we arrived, the place was stunning. Sweeping mountain views, soft instrumental guitar playing in the common areas, avocado trees everywhere, and people wandering around in what felt like a blissed-out trance. Brinley turned to me and joked that it felt like we were in an episode of The White Lotus. It really did. Beautiful, but also strange. This bubble tucked away from town didn’t feel like Antigua anymore. Still, this was exactly the kind of yoga spot I had been hoping for, a gorgeous studio overlooking volcanoes. So I let myself enjoy it for a few hours.

The class itself was a special end-of-year Yin practice. The instructor felt more like a guided meditator. She asked us to close our eyes and let our minds flip through the last year, notice the difficult moments alongside the joyful ones, accept them, and observe how our bodies responded to those memories. It felt like watching my year flash by, and it was unexpectedly cathartic.

She guided us through a slow, hour-long practice and closed with singing bowls during savasana. Then she began to sing. I’ve never had a yoga instructor sing during class, but her voice was so angelic that I was completely into it. When the practice ended, no one moved for a full five minutes. Not to be corny, but it felt like we had all gone on a meditation journey together and were slowly returning to reality, as a group. White Lotus vibes or not, it was special.

Afterward, Brinley and I decided to stay for their fancy breakfast before heading back into town. It was insanely good. Over coffee, we talked about what the class brought up for us. One thing I’ve come to love about solo travel is how quickly conversations skip past small talk and go deep. There’s already a vulnerability built into traveling alone, and everyone is going through something personal in the process. Because of that, opening up doesn’t feel strange. It feels natural. Connecting in that way with someone you just met can feel easier than it might at a party back home.

Avocado toast and fruit.

In the evening, I met up with another group of travelers at a rooftop bar, where we watched the sun set behind the mountains. I know I’ve done this so many times at this point, but it truly never gets old. As the sky grew darker, the eruptions of Fuego volcano became more dramatic. We would be mid-conversation and then suddenly interrupted by an eruption that demanded our full attention; conversations paused. This happened about every ten minutes. At one point, I could even see lava spilling out of the volcano.

We could also make out the tiny flashes of headlamps from people hiking Fuego. Seeing lava erupt from so far away, while humans were not all that far from it, was both mesmerizing and a little terrifying. I’m sure those hikers were witnessing views of a lifetime.

As we neared midnight, fireworks and firecrackers echoed through the streets nonstop. The entire town seemed to be moving toward the main square for the celebration. I’ve never been someone who gets especially excited about fireworks. They’re loud, and they usually all look the same. Still, I wanted to be where the action was.

It was incredible to see the whole town come together. The square was packed. The people watching alone could have kept me there all night. When the clock struck midnight, I watched locals turn to their neighbors, their friends, and even strangers, hugging and wishing each other a happy new year. It felt almost like being in church, this shared moment of collective joy and community.

The fireworks continued late into the night, some of them lit by children who looked no older than seven. I felt mesmerized and a little overwhelmed all at once. Being there was special, but I hadn’t expected the wave of longing that followed. I missed my family and friends back home, who had already celebrated an hour earlier because of the time difference. I took a deep breath. I don’t know what this year will bring, but right now I’m in Guatemala, and I’ll be here for the next ten days. Tomorrow I will leave Antigua and head to Lake Atitlan, where I will be for the next four nights. Not a bad way to start 2026.