Our wakeup call at 6:30am came way too soon, but thinking about the fact that Unberto had been awake since 4am tending to the camp & horses and making breakfast, I felt like a spoilt little thing. After a breakfast of beans and fried plantains we set off on what we had been told would be our longest day, 8 hours of walking to get to the site of El Mirador. And long it was... In 30 degree heat and covered from head to toe to protect ourselves from ticks, we walked and walked, and then we walked some more... the road seemed endless, but luckily the canopy gave shade on the rare occasions that the cloud cover lifted.

It really was a gorgeous walk through ever-changing scenery, and the feared 1000s of ticks turned out to be almost as elusive as the hundreds of hairy spiders... Being the dry season, the path was solid and the humidity slightly less than feared. We walked through patches of palm-like trees, then patches dense with chicle trees, cut in a criss cross fashion last June and July by the chicleros´ machetes to make the sap seep out for collection. There was a vast variety of trees, some of which shed beautiful opaque flowers, and some of which had thick lianas hanging down Tarzan-fashion, as if waiting for someone to swing around in them. Many trees were covered in vines, and yet others were host to those cactus / aloe looking small plants that you can buy at your local florist (and admire until they die from overwatering, since they are meant to pick up moisture from the jungle air, not from a spray bottle). We also saw various forms of wildlife, mostly birds, of which the red headed woodpecker was the most impressive, and a gang of possums (?), light brown, the size of a large cat, with long bushy tails.

Despite all this beauty, the day seemed to never end, and my mood kept changing with my energy levels. In the heat, the most I could do was plod along at an even pace, the slightest change in tempo disturbing me unless it was to sit down for a break. In periods I was having silly thoughts such as "if I were a donkey I´d be laying down and refuse to move" or "if I were a car I´d be running on fumes and overheating". I was semi-dizzy, my whole body was covered in sweat (with no chance of a bath until we were back in Flores), I was hungry and low on energy, I had blisters on both heels and we were walking through an area supposedly heavily infested with ticks. Luckily, our Permethrin impregnated clothes seemed to repel the ticks as neither Silje nor I got bit.

During these first couple of days it was hard to focus my thoughts on something that kept me in a consistently positive frame of mind. However, whenever I got to the point of feeling too sorry for myself, I looked up at the amazing scenery and reminded myself that I was in fact realizing a dream and that it would be worth it in the end (it was).

The latter part of the day was the best, as we were each falling into our own tempo , and some of us encountered a group of grey monkeys moving through the canopy right above the path. The size of a large cat, with long tails and limbs, they jumped and swung their way from tree to tree. Sometimes suspended precariously by all four limbs, they would pause a moment before letting go and taking a free fall through the branches until reaching a suitable one to grab. We watched, amazed, for ages, feeling like we were part of a National Geographic documentary.

After our monkey experience we stopped at our second Maya site, La Muerta, consisting of two small pyramids, one of which was partially excavated. We were able to enter the interior tomb, accessible by a tunnel barely able to fit a slim-ish person. The tomb was empty now. Its contents, a skull with a burial mask, had been taken to a museum in Guatemala City to protect it from the many grave robbers foraging around the area. Since starting out the first day, we had passed numerous smaller Maya ruins, mostly grave mounds relieved of their remains and ceramics by the ladrones who make good money selling to collectors. Silje and I were also speculating whether some of the many regular mounds we walked over or by are really other buried ruins. Why else would there be stone blocks scattered all around them?

We finally reached El Mirador 9 hours after setting out, and were welcomed by the three guards, or vigilantes, that live at the site . They are stationed there 30 days at a time, but the current gang had been "lucky" enough to be allotted 10 extra days, with a good chance of more to come. They were extremely bored as well as running low on supplies. All they eat they have brought in on horseback, with the exception of some eggs and occasional meat provided by their flock of chickens. The area is also full of wild turkeys and pheasants, but being a National Park hunting is forbidden. (Though, of course, if a "hawk" should "accidentally" kill a bird and drop it off at their doorstep, they wouldn´t let it go to waste).

The bored vigilantes immediately took us to their trash-dump, a giant hole in the ground, for some sightseeing. They had earlier spotted a Barba Maria, the jungle´s most lethal snake whose bite kills in 7 seconds, trapped in the garbage hole. Unable to get out, the snake is living a life of luxury among the myriad rats and giant cockroaches that share its new home. The snake sighting had been the most exciting event all month at El Mirador. Obviously, life is slow in the jungle... We never did see the feared creature but had some fun watching the guys poke around the garbage with a long stick.

We shared the huge site with another group, three sullen looking Americans with a 17 year-old guide who spent all of his time at our camp, and consequently none at his own. We had the luxury of staying at the archeologists´camp, which had a nice big picknic table and a pit toilet up the hill. Quite the fine facilities!