On the Road Again
Sunday, December 24th, 2006We have just finished a very fast-paced week of travel which we will now attempt to recap. At the moment we-re in Livingston, a community reachable only by boat… but how we got here is the real story.
SEMUC CHAMPEY
We left Antigua on Tuesday morning at 4am. This meant that we had to wake up at 3:30am. We did this willingly, I know not why. Thus began the long trip to Semuc Champey: six hours by minibus to Coban, two hours to Lanquin (an hour of which is on a long bumpy dirt road), and then half an hour in the back of a pickup truck to the one hotel that sits on the banks of the Cohabon River. Semuc Champey is a Guatemalan national park, one of the few natural rock bridges in the world (I assume, since I´ve never heard of another). I want to attempt to explain exactly what it is, but since I read a lot about it beforehand and completely didn´t understand any of it, I assume that my attempt will be feeble. But here it goes: A raging whitewater river encounters the rock bridge and goes underneath it into a cave. However, on top of the bridge some water remains and creates unbelievably beautiful turquoise pools perfect for swimming. Or, as it turns out, perfect for slipping and falling and almost breaking your arm, in the case of Zil. Ow.
As beautiful as the pools were, they did not hold a candle to the spelunking that one can undertake in the nearby caves. Unfortunately, I was the only participant of our small crew, as Zil´s arm was still in recovery from her slip and fall, and Megan´s back was angry with her after our days long journey. Yes, I spelunked. I spelunked with three Israelis just out of the army, a Spaniard who was afraid of heights, a young man from Brighton, and our guide, Luis. We were given candles and commenced swimming through water filled caves with one arm while holding the other above our heads to light our way. We swam, walked, climbed, and shimmied two kilometers into the cave before heading back out again. I only got lost once. In a little room with water up to my chin and seemingly no way out. But fear not, there was a way out, and I found it. Thank god.
TIKAL
The next morning we let ourselves sleep late… until 4:30am, and left for Tikal: two and a half hours to Coban, four hours to Flores, and fourty five minutes to El Remate, a little lakeside town just outside of the Tikal national park. There we slept, sleeping even a little later, until 5am. We arrived in the main plaza of the ancient Mayan ruins slightly after the sunrise, before the tourists flooded in. We sat on the old stone steps and watched the mist drift over the two thousand year old buildings accompanied in our meditation only by peacocks rooting around for breakfast. Pretty rad.
Later we hired a guide (which was TOTALLY worth the ten American dollars that it cost us) named Miguel. He was an ornthologist by trade and can recognize over five hundred bird species. We put his training to use and saw several toucans, woodpeckers, countless other birds that I can´t remember, spider monkeys, howler monkeys, and coates (funny anteater type furry rooting creatures). This is all in addition to the human engineering marvel that is Tikal: 65 meter high pyramids peak out over the immense expanse of jungle, which is always threatening to envelop the city. Truly breathtaking and awe-inspiring.
Now we are in Livingston, planning to rest and relax over the Christmas holiday. It´s not hard to do when it´s about 80 degrees in the shade.
Happy Holidays to all.
-Sarah (and Megan who wrote the last three paragraphs.)
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