Oh Lord: I visited a bizarre, fake Hobbit-theme park in a cloud forest
It’s been many moons since I’ve read The Hobbit or binged The Lord of The Rings films but I’m pretty sure I don’t remember Gandalf, Galadriel or Gollum ever resurrecting a lifeless truck by smashing the bejesus out of it with a blacksmith’s sledgehammer.
Ironically this mechanical sorcery helps me on my Frodo-esque quest to see Hobbitenango, a counterfeit Lord of the Rings (LOTR) theme park set in a Central American cloud forest ringed by real-life, lava-spitting Mount Dooms. The parallel-Middle Earth in Guatemala bears some comparison to but has no association with its probable muse, New Zealand’s Hobbiton; a sanctioned homage and cinematic HQ of J. R. R. Tolkien’s fantasy world.
Hobbitenango, surrounded by cloud-ringed Mount Dooms.Credit: Alamy
The Korean-made Hobbitenango Express supernaturally splutters to life, thanks to the sustained, staccato attack on its starter motor by the being tasked with driving folk up to Hobbitenango on a mountain overlooking (when clouds allow) Antigua, Guatemala. Leaving arguably Central America’s coolest city – a place drenched in an embarrassment of cultural and outdoorsy activities – for this fantastical folly feels foolish at first.
Antigua’s cobblestoned, cathedral-dense streetscape – in the colossal shadow of the dormant Volcan de Agua and within earshot of the fiery, flatulent Volcan del Fuego – harbour dapper restaurants and cafes (expensive by Central American standards), catacomb-like markets walled with Mayan colour, and homestays filled with privileged students of all ages looking to sharpen their Spanish in language schools outside usual suspects such as Spain and Mexico. Nearby volcanoes plead to be hiked and magnetically majestic Lake Atitlan tractor-beams those in need of serious chilling.
Antigua’s cobblestoned streetscape lies in the colossal shadow of the dormant Volcan de Agua.Credit: iStock
Yet enough fans and kitsch-seekers make the tyre-tickling, temperature-toppling daytrip to have kept Hobbitenango’s hobbit holes open since 2015 – 13 years after Hobbiton, New Zealand, was established, and one year after the last Hobbit film was released. As I park my butt onto an unforgiving, seatbelt-free wooden bench ‘secured’ to the truck’s tray, Bilbo Baggin’s prophetic words ring in my pointy little ears: “It’s a dangerous business, going out your door”.
The Express sways up steep hairpins, blurring past clusters of corrugated cottages huddling below slopes forlornly reinforced against landslides. Cartoon clouds casually cruise by in the lean atmosphere, fusing with smoke from fireplaces, road-side rubbish blazes and crop burn-offs. At Vuelta Grande, 700 metres above Antigua, the (unofficially) steepest driveway in Guatemala is the final vertiginous portal into this Tolkien-tourism pirate.
A wooden bridge with lashed-twig railings concaves into a deep-green, more-or-less Hobbit-sized hillside realm saturated with LOTR visual cues, soundtracked appropriately by harp-heavy music and jig-inducing ditties (wavering into marimba and reggaeton later in the day).
With each elfin step up the flower-lined paths, however, the gulf between Hobbiton and Hobbitenango comes into focus. Most disappointingly, the latter’s concrete-fronted hobbit holes-cum accommodation and restaurants are barely subterranean, with a camouflaged grass-roofed garden-shed quality to them.
El Grito (the Eagle) is Hobbitenango’s supreme vantage point, about 2500 metres above sea level. As I’m being secured into the giant rope-swing, the attendant begins delivering his standard fun-park joke – “the harness is broken” – gleefully releasing me mid-sentence.
As I pendulum over the Panchoy Valley, El Grito’s steel-pyramid frame – rated up to 90 kilograms, apparently – sways noticeably and squeaks dubiously, drowned out by my involuntary squeals and boganish “yews!”. When the swaying stops, I’m plucked from midair by a deputy attendant on a ladder using a Middle Earth butcher’s hook.
You’ll pay big bucks for a photo opportunity with Guatemalan Gandalf.Credit: Steve Madgwick
I practise my toddler-level Spanish with Guatemalan Gandalf, who makes me buy a criminally priced licuado (smoothie) for the right to snap a photo of him. His oversized pipe and staff are suburban fancy-dress-party calibre. His shabby boots those of a student gigging his way through college. His long-grey-bearded latex mask could be a readymade prop for a LOTR-themed bank-heist spin-off series.
Cosplaying elves, hobbits and garden-variety humans can remain relevant on Hobbitenango’s circus of Insta-wings and Insta-swings, headlined by a mossed-curtained giant troll’s-hand platform perched on a cliff’s edge (closed during my visit, possibly for structural reinforcement, judging by the scaffolding). Staff play suspiciously dumb when I quiz them about two other giant-hand photo opportunities at nearby theme park Altamira. I silently wonder if I should notify the UN about Vuelta Grande’s brewing Insta-war.
Hobbitenango’s circus is headlined by a giant troll’s-hand platform perched on a cliff’s edge.Credit: Steve Madgwick
Underneath Hobbitenango’s Tolkienian skeleton beats a quintessential carnie heart. Sideshow stalls sell furry monkeys, traditional Guatemalan garb and organic bellyache remedies (claimed). The laxly supervised archery and axe/machete-throwing tent is the perfect place to cover up the fratricide of an annoying sibling as “just another theme park accident”. The six-hole mushroom-themed mini-golf course seems like an afterthought to monetise every square centimetre of available land (although the ye-olde-style wooden clubs/mallets are on point).
As a day-tripper, I can’t pass judgement on Hobbitenango’s hobbit-hole accommodation, which promises “peaceful silence on top of the mountain when daytime guests have gone home, and personal service of our five-star staff”. But there are grander questions afoot.
How did a Hobbit-themed theme park land in a Guatemalan cloud forest? How does it get away with such a monumental intellectual property breach? The website states: “[Hobbitenango] was originally meant to be a small eco-village shared between friends … founded out of a love for nature, playfulness, and the desire to disconnect from the hectic, busy world and reconnect with what is important in life.”
Hobbitenango’s hobbitocracy didn’t reply to my questions about its foundation and eco credentials. Hobbiton New Zealand did, however, giving a firm ‘no comment’ when asked if it is aware or affected by this Central American imposter.
The ‘real’ Hobbiton in Waikato, New Zealand.
Regardless, nonsense often trumps sense. Hobbitenango has a beguiling pull that doesn’t require you to be a LOTR superfan to visit. I mean, who wouldn’t, given the chance, travel to a kooky cloud-forest amusement park trying its heart out to authentically rip off a movie-set-cum-theme park thousands of kilometres away, itself imagined in the mind of one of history’s greatest fantasy writers?
As a great wizard once said: “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”
Details
Visit
The Hobbitenango day trip from Antigua costs 50 quetzals ($10), including return transport and entrance. For accommodation see hobbitenango.com
Fly
United Airlines flies from Sydney to Guatemala City via Houston (CA-4 visa on arrival). An Uber between Guatemala City and Antigua costs about $65.
The writer travelled at his own expense.
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