Flores, Tikal, and next steps

Our last leg of adventure together was to Flores, and then Tikal, before splitting paths. 

The shuttle was a bit uncomfortable, but we arrived without issue and crossed the land bridge to the island of Flores at sunset. 

The hostel was called Los Amigos, and a few days later I'm still there, typing from a hammock. Great food and pretty relaxed, though a bit more crowded than the previous hostels I have stayed at. 

View from the bar looking toward the hammock area in the distant left. 

After a long day of travel, we naturally booked the sunrise tour for Tikal, and woke up at 2:40am to get ready and leave at 3am. 

We arrived at the park still well before sunrise, perhaps just after 4 o'clock, and began hiking into the jungle with our guide. 

Some forty-five minutes later, I looked up in the pitch black and realized we were walking past the base of one if the pyramids, visible only by a silhouette that was subtly darker than the sky. No one else seemed to notice, too tired and intent on not tripping or slipping where they stepped, but we stopped a few moments later and the guide revealed we were standing in what they called the "downtown" of the ancient city. We would be back later. Then he clapped, and about fifty yards away we heard a strange jungle bird call. He clapped again, and the bird followed suit immediately. 

This part was super cool. Directly across the plaza from one another, like two reflecting mirrors, were an arrangement of polished stones that evidently recreated the quetzal bird call by the way they reflected percussive sounds. Not sure how they figured that one out. Here's a picture of what I'm talking about from later in the morning:

Back to hiking. The idea was to climb up the tallest pyramid and sit on the steps near the top looking out over the jungle, and at sunrise the sun would strike the other pyramids and we'd see most of Tikal. Not so, this time. But it was still incredible. 

Our large contingent of tourists sat in silence facing outward over the jungle canopy, which was extremely dark save for an eerie fog that hung about the tree tops. It looked like the same jungle as the scene in Jurassic park, and then all of a sudden branches started moving and we heard a t-Rex roar, and then another answered, and a third, more distant one. Obviously, they weren't t-Rex's, but they Were the animal whose vocals were used as the Tyrannosaurus Rex call in Jurassic park... howler monkeys. For those ten minutes of wild jungle sound and movement, I felt as if I had been transported to a prehistoric setting completely removed from any distant influence or grasp of the modern world. 

This exciting time was followed by an anticlimactic sunrise which may or may not have happened, for all we knew, except that we generally supposed it had (it was still much darker than it appears to be in this picture). 

But you gotta go with it. 

That's Jeff making the face. 

One more funny photobomb by a random guy (shoulder spot):

Okay, getting away from the top of the pyramid...

Next we trekked to the "lost world" pyramids, or the oldest ones, named for their resemblance to a drawing in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's novel. On the way, we took a quick look back at where we'd been at sunrise:

When we got to the administrative pyramid at "lost world," we climbed it. 

Quick selfie from the top:

Looking out there was a really cool tree with a spider monkey playing in it and awesome fuzzy moss covering the upper branches:

After descending from where we were in the photo above, 

we continued forward and then left to come upon this pyramid for rituals:

Then back to the downtown area. On the way we saw a funnel web spider burrow, and tried to tease it out with some grass (tarantula with a reddish butt). We also heard the strange call of a grey fox, laying rest to the question "what does the fox say?" and then saw it sneak off. 

Finally we came back to downtown. 

The sun was really starting to come out. 

After a brief speech we had free time to explore around and take pictures. Here's what I saw. 

^steep. 

After walking around our group dispersed instead of meeting at the designated time (we went to the meeting point on time), so we wandered around trying to find them and finally ran into our tour guide, who was equally confused. Apparently it's the first time a group hadn't met up where they were supposed to. Lucky us, we were waiting for them to eat. Finally we got some food and headed back. 

The rest of the night was a typical day in the life of a backpacker, and ended with some new friends at a rooftop bar called skybar watching the fair across the water and smoking a fresh Cuban cigar (Romeo y Julieta limited edition Cohiba). Blissful end to the day. 

Oh one other thing about the flavor here. Every so often there is a large explosion in the streets nearby. Kids just love their fire crackers and obviously go for the loudest ones they can find. The first few times it really startled me because it's such a strong blast, but after a while you get desensitized to it, even if it's in the middle of the night. 

Other stuff about Flores: right now they are having a week long celebration and fair, some of which is due to the election of their queen, some of which is just for fiesta and staying out in the streets celebrating. Happy hour starts around 2-4pm and lasts until 9 or 10pm most places here. 

Anyway the next morning Jeff left for Belize to meet up with his best friend, and I stayed at the hostel to figure out my next plans! That was yesterday. I will probably stay in Flores tomorrow and take an overnight bus back to Antigua next. 

Cheers :)

Lanquin and Samu'k Champey

After wolfing down our last free meal at the iguana, Jeff and I caught a lancha (public boat) to Panajachel, and from there we hopped on a shuttle to Antigua. 

A comfortable shuttle ride later, we pulled into Antigua and had 2 hours to kill before the shuttle to Lanquin. We promptly found some cheap chiles rellenos, which were game changers. So good. Then off to the park to hang out. 

Shoddy camera work, but you get the idea. Antigua has a nice Spanish style central park ringed with all their important municipal buildings. 

The comfortable, spacious shuttle ride to Antigua was pretty much a wistful memory during the 8 hour shuttle ride to Lanquin. At one point we stopped to go to the bathroom, and I was last to go, and when I returned to the street there was a classic moment where the shuttle was gone before Jeff called my name and I panned right and saw that they had changed shuttles for the last leg of the journey. 

Definitely an improvement. 

Arrival was scheduled for 8pm, we rolled in at 10:15 and got dropped somewhere in town, then wandered ten minutes through light rain until we found the hostel. 

I was exhausted, so as soon as I was shown to my bed I was dead to the world, but I remembered wondering at the persistent downpour throughout the night. 

When I woke up and saw sun I realized the sound hadn't been rain. 

My dorm was at the end of the path going left, not 20 yards from a fast, beautiful river that maintained an unreal shade of green at all times. 

Since the river had such a current, there was a catch line of rope so that people could walk upriver, jump in, grab the rope, clamber out and hop in the sauna. Rinse and repeat. However, I didn't get a chance to try it out that day because we were leaving for a day trip to Samuk Champey very early. 

I couldn't bring my camera because so much water was involved, and I basically didn't wear anything except a swimsuit all day - I never had flip flops to begin with, and I'd basically gone around the iguana barefoot for the past month and a half, so why stop now?

We started out going into the caves which are filled with pools and water falls, stalactites and stalagmites, and plenty a cavern lined with very sharp rocks. Swimming was a bit hazardous while holding a candle aloft, but we all made it through fine, and our guide was a pretty reckless but very good 21 year old local guide. We climbed up waterfalls in the caves using rope, and even did cave jumping into a pool that was about 3 meters deep. Only five of us took the risk, a pattern that geld true for the rest of the day. 

After shivering our way back out, we did a massive rope swing into the river outside, then grabbed tubes and tubes down the river, which was the same green as the one in the campground. 

Actually, looking around during the tubing was the first time I was strongly reminded of Pandora from Avatar. That happened with increasing frequency toward the end of the day. 

Next up, we (well...five of us) jumped off a bridge into the river. This was easily the highest I've ever jumped from, perhaps 35-40 feet above the deep rushing water below, since we jumped from the top metal railing. Super fun, and we started to get a sense if who we were going to end the day with, in terms of the adventuresome group. 

After lunch we hiked straight up a sheer face by way of zig zagging stairs, and looked down on the pools we would swim in, which are probably what you see when you google Samuc Champey. 

Finally the hike down. A bit hazardous. We were stuck behind this slow couple, but I think God was just looking out for us, because a huge boulder crashed down the slope and took out a section of the wood bridge that was hugging the slope a couple minutes before we got there. We heard it, then saw the destruction of the path and all the trees below it on that particularly steep section. Our guide basically told us to hurry across in case any more rocks were falling, and we helped each other up from the gap and continued on our way. 

By the time we reached the pools, the sun was breaching the cloud cover for the first time all day. We could not have been happier, because it really brought out the colors in the crystal clear pools. Again with the reminder of Pandora, because the jungle setting and the pools just looked like the colors were too intense to occur in nature here. A bit of an alien quality to the place.

We were all pretty excited since our guide had told us the pools were hot, and all the waters earlier in the day had been progressively colder. As it turns out, "hot" was simply an expression of "not cold," so we did our best soaking up the sun as we bathed. 

Suddenly one of the girls called out that little fish were nipping at her bug bites. A second later, I was jolted by the same unfamiliar sensation as they started "cleaning" all my sores. I'm pretty sure such fish are involved in a very expensive spa treatment somewhere in the world, so I let them go at it for a while, and felt fine afterward. 

We followed the sun through the pools until the end, had our last few adventures, solidified our group who pushed the limits til the end together, and then headed back to El Retiro, the hostel.

Some of those friends had made a connection with a white water rafting guides, and it was so cheap that Jeff and I decided to sign up on the spot and extend out stay by a night. 

The next morning we met Dave, who was basically a younger Eric Arvadon with dreadlocks (Dad, he seriously looked and spoke so much like him, it was hilarious). For $35 we got rafting, virtually unlimited beer (we had to pick up another case for the truck ride home), and a lunch with a native village. 

The rafting was really fun, though we got the two major rapids so cleanly that we almost felt cheated for the lack of "carnage." Apparently it could get pretty gnarly. 

At one point we stopped at Darwin's limb, which was jokingly named because if you fell off before you got far enough over the river, you would eliminate yourself from the gene pool. I went first, and it was honestly pretty unnerving, but definitely worth doing. The limb was very solid and grew perhaps 25 feet out over the river. The river was so deep that when I stepped off the raft at the shore, I went straight down to my head and couldn't even touch the bottom, even though I could kiss the shore. It was that steep underwater. 

Had to say goodbye to the cheap sunglasses I was wearing, because I couldn't hold onto them when I hit the water, but the beer break that was happening concurrently helped. 

Seeing all the Mayan villages along the shore was really really cool, and we had some friendly exchanges as we drifted by. But the best part was eating at the end. 

We brought our rafts into shore and packed them up, then were challenged to bring the rafts up to the trucks. The Mayans are small people but so strong. One of them tipped up a rolled-up raft, made a disgusted face, and said "no pesa." It's not heavy, he said. He popped it up between his shoulders and walked staunchly off without a sign of trouble. That raft was 250 pounds. 

The biggest among us, a well muscled Irish guy who grew up as a farmer and looked like an Irish version of Jay Bornstein (sterlaces, it's true), was able to carry it up but not as gracefully as the little Mayan man. They frequently carry immense loads on their backs or necks. 

We finished up the day with a "life sized" Jenga game that had all sorts of funny dares written on the bricks that had to be completed as part of each turn. Hilarious night. 

The next day we left for Flores, but I've already written way too much for one post.

Last weeks at the Iguana Perdida and leaving it

Typing this from my phone so sorry if this isn't well edited. 

My last few weeks at the Iguana were, as before, a blur. But there were some fun things that might be worth the telling. In no particular order, here we go. 

Let's start with a bit of humor and a bit of drama. It became a joke at the iguana that I would never get to go paragliding because I tried for literally my last month to go and never succeeded. If I called in the morning, the weather wasn't good for it. If I had the day off, there was no wind, or it was from the wrong direction. If I was working or had other plans, guests would come to dinner that night gushing about how awesome paragliding was and how they were so happy they were able to do it on their one or two night stay on the lake. If I had the day off and gave up on trying, I would look up in the afternoon and see some paragliders happily hanging in a peaceful thermal. It was uncanny and, honestly, pretty funny. 

Finally I got Jeff to agree to go and see if he could tip my luck. It was my last week, and I had the day off. I called in the morning, and conditions were looking good. But I couldn't get an appointment until 3:30pm. Part of me knew this was the beginning of the end. 

I took a boat to Panajachel after lunch and went to my favorite coffee shop.

The two Korean guys, Diego and Martin, had been moving around opening shop all over Central America and the Caribbean. They had been in panajachel for a year and made the best coffee I've ever tasted. Really interesting guys. 

Anyway Jeff showed up around 2 and shared the quick turn in events of the past hour since I left. Due to an accounting error, 600 quetzales had been unaccounted for during one of his shifts, and he was accused of stealing and asked to leave. That bugged me because I knew he was trustworthy and any of us could have been on shift and accused of the same thing, and I hate it when people call my character into question. He did too, so it was a bummer, but we grabbed some coffee and some beers and checked in to go paragliding. 

The gliding was running behind half an hour, so we went to grab one more beer before heading up. Then we went and watched all the para gliders in the air finish up their flights neatly while we waited in the back of the pickup. 

Time to roll. 

Started up the mountain and hit rain. Let me explain something. It is the dry season. It doesn't rain in the dry season. Period. And yet. It was raining. 

So we turned around. "We tried." Then part way down it stopped raining, mostly. So the crew stopped, indecisive. Then were heading back up the mountain, overcast as it is. 

We get to the top, and the little kid who had missed his chance to go earlier straps in and jumps off with the owner if the company. We're up next. Our harness are on, we're going through the takeoff procedures, all set to go, and the wind dies. Then it starts raining. 

You can't fly properly in the rain. Abort. 

So close. But it was beautiful up there. 

The good thing was the ride down, standing in the back of the pickup and holding into a bar. The road was so windy, it almost felt like snowboarding. 

Got to the bottom, got our refund, and hit up Pollo Campero for a couple dozen chicken wings. By then it was seven and the last boat home is loosely at 7-7:30, so we sprinted full out to the docks and wheezed onto the last boat at altitude. What a day. 

Didn't get to go gliding, but when we got back, they had figured out that Jeff was innocent after all and asked him if he would consider staying. I wouldn't have blamed him either way, the whole thing left a pretty bad taste in my mouth for a couple days. He decided to think about it, and I rejoined the other volunteers to finish up the day with some normal partying. 

Another thing that happened in the last few weeks was that scorpions started turning up way more frequently, and I became somewhat of a scorpion go-to guy. Some of us got stung, but when someone found one in their room, they'd come to me, and I'd catch them. They weren't so bad, either. Only defensive if they felt threatened. 

Won some points with the ladies taking care of them though. 

Also got certified for open water scuba diving. So fun Oli was a phenomenal instructor and I got one on one lessons that turned into some really great dives. Since the lake has risen so much, we swam through old houses and bars and into saunas and down steep volcanic walls and even cooked an egg in one if the underwater vents along the fault line. Lots of fish including carp and crappies, bass, and tons of funny crabs with attitudes. As one guest put it, diving is kind of like checking out another world in zero gravity with a slow motion jet pack. I loved it, and was super happy to get certified and be able to have that skill in the future. 

By the time our last night roles around, everyone was on good terms again, and we had probably the best open mic night in memory. Tons of guests stayed up with us, so many that they had to create rows going back from the fire pit, and we had great crowd participation and just a lot of good fun. Everyone was feeling celebratory, and the night in itself was a nice gesture since we normally had open mic on Wednesday but they through it on the Tuesday in honor of us Boston kids leaving. Great night, and a wonderful way to leave the iguana, which was an experience that deserved to be ended on a high note. 

I felt really good about leaving, sending that I had spent an amount of time that was somewhere between "just enough" and "too long," and I was very content to move on at that point. There were tons of unchronicled adventures and misadventures at the iguana, and a rare sort of atmosphere and combination of characters that will probably stay with me as long as I live. 

Next it was off to Lanquin, but that it is a story for another day. Perhaps tomorrow.