After the physical exertions of the Mayan ruins we were ready to pass out on the journey to Mexico. Not that it was without some exertions of its own. Our eight hour journey was made up of a bumpy bus ride to the Guatemalan border where we got our exit stamps. Loaded up with our bags we were shepherded on a rickety long boat for a 45 minute journey down the Usumacinta River. The peaceful journey down the wide, green river, lined with local families bathing and washing their clothes on the banks, was only punctuated by the nagging suspicion that, having not reached the Mexican border post, we were, in fact, sneaking illegally into the country. Good things don’t seem to happen to illegal immigrants in Mexico. Gulp. Fortunately a short walk after the boat brought us to the post and the necessary stamp. Finally I had made it (legally) to Mexico!
Not five minutes after negotiating our way through the border control our bus was stopped to collect a voluntary donation for up-keeps on the local village. Now all those months of reading about Mexican officials’ corruption had got me on guard and seemed to be playing out. We asked if this was an official tax or if it was voluntary. We were told it was not mandatory so being the cheapskate students we were decided not to pay... only to be told they weren’t going to let the bus move until we did. Five minutes in Mexico and I was in a hold-up situation, perfect. Bravely (or grouchily) we stood our ground for 10 minutes before getting bored and handing over a couple of dollars so we could just move on!
Several hours of buses later we arrived in a steamy, hot town called Palenque. We had a trek finding a hostel and headed out to refresh with quesadillas, horchata and a steady stream of amazingly colourful mariachi music videos on the cafe’s TV. No one makes a low budget, horrifyingly cringeworthy music video like Mexican mariachis. Fact.
Now this was one of my standard travels so there was no time for common things like relaxing or sitting still. We pushed on for an action packed day taking in all of Palenque’s treats. We started at the Palenque ruins- smaller and slightly newer than the Tikal ones but very impressive all the same. Surrounded by steamy forests and blossoming trees they had a strange Oriental feel, added to by the pagodaish roofs on some of the buildings. (Pagodaish is a word.)
Having build up a sweat dragging ourselves up more temple steps we were happy to move on the beautiful, tall Misol Ha waterfall. We chilled out under the fall for a while before Ben and I ventured our way into a pitch black cave. Led by a guide with a flashlight we carefully traversed our way through the shin-high water and thin rock passages until the cave opened up into a dark, little cavern. A scan with our guide’s torch revealed the low-ceilinged cave was full of water with a small waterfall at the back. Looming quietly in the blackness the dark pool was irresistible and seconds later I found myself slipping into the freezing, black water, my only guidance coming from the strobbing flash of people taking photos. It was pretty darn scary in there and it was all I could do to banish possible horror-movie scenarios from my mind.
Having made it out of the cave without being eaten by zombie-cave-sharks we gathered the group and made our way on to a series of impossibly aquamarine rapids and waterfalls called (unoriginally) Agua Azul. There we bathed again and ate guacamole, empanadas and BBQ.
Bathed and full we got back on the bus for yet another epic bus-ride on to the colonial town of San Cristobal where we would lose each other and all fall in love with the city.
Lessons learnt:
Despite my love of Batman, it turns out dark caves are not my favourite hang out.
Screaming one’s head off in a dark, echoey cave does little to suppress your fears.... or indeed those of the people around you.
Fighting corruption is important. But $2 fines after hours on a bus can make one sell out principles for movement!
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario