Be sure to start at the
home page regarding our Guatemala motorcycle
adventure.
Hotels where we
stayed.
Here is our
route.
Here's
part 1
of my travelogue.
Guatemala Travelogue part 2
We were already starting day five of our vacation, and we'd
ridden our motorcycles just one day! I really wanted to do more
riding, but I was also worried. These streets would never get
easier. I needed to be focused and do a better job on sharp
hills. Spoiler alert: I did.
We
headed North and went through
Chichicastenango.
This city is famous for its street market, but all I could think
of was all the street markets we had already walked through,
packed with kitsch. I was done with such markets. So we skipped
the market, navigated right through town, and headed on.
Stefan had found
a
Mayan ruin to visit: Q'Umarkaj. It's not a major
site, not listed in
Lonely Planet Guatemala. Nothing has
been restored at the site, and the walking path to the main part
of the site plows through ruins -
you
can see building foundations rocks in the hard packed dirt of
the foot path dug out to the main part of the ruins. No
pyramids or other structures have been restored and much of the
site has been looted for the stones alone. But I really liked
the site. It is fascinating to see yet another site that's laid
out, in general, like other Mayan sites. Once again, I was in
awe of just how powerful these empires used to be. There are
grass covered pyramids and
mounds
hiding all sorts of other structures everywhere. It's high
on a hill, just like most Mayan sites, and even in ruins, it's a
marvel. There was even a shaman there performing a ceremony for
two Mayan visitors. I wondered what they were asking for from
their gods.
The
Wikipedia site for Q'Umarkaj is excellent. If you aren't
REALLY into Mayan ruins, this probably isn't worth your time.
But we are REALLY into Mayan ruins, so we loved it. I would
imagine it's not a great place on the weekends - it's treated
more as picnic grounds by the locals on weekends, from what I
understand.
Shout out to the attendant, who was happy to take our motorcycle
jackets and helmets into his little booth and keep them for us
during the visit. And was shocked when we tipped him for it.
But the condition of one of the dogs in particular at this site,
in the parking lot, was so heart-breaking... I took out some
cookies and put them near him. He was almost too ill to eat
them. As I write this, I hope he has died, and I hope his death
was swift and not as a result of an act of cruelty.
We left the site and rode on. Eventually, we entered the city of
Santa Cruz del Quiche and I saw a McDonald's and pulled
into it. I usually would NEVER eat at a McDonald's, not even
here in the USA. But I was concerned for our tummies and I
didn't want to take any chances with food and drink. There was a
parking lot security guard and he had us park next to all the
other motorcycles, some of which were large, expensive bikes.
Just as we were about to walk away from the bikes and go in, the
bikers came out - all middle aged Guatemalam men out for a day
of riding and all very happy to meet us and talk about our trip.
Lovely people. But that's Guatemala: genuinely friendly people
who want to help you, who are so glad you are enjoying their
country. Belize and Guatemala are absolutely the friendliest
countries I have ever visited - and I've been to 40 countries!
We sat inside enjoying the air conditioning, eating our fast
food and using our phones to view hotels. We had not already
booked a hotel, and that was a mistake: we headed to hotels we
found online, and they were all already full. We kept riding
and, suddenly, we were in the heart of chaotic, packed Quiche,
with narrow, one way roads, tons of traffic, and with some roads
closed by street markets and one closed because of a crime scene
(yikes!). Stefan wanted to head to a place called the Plaza
Hotel that he had found on Google Maps and we couldn't get to it
because of the crime scene. So I pulled over and asked the
police officer blocking traffic how we could get there, and he
was just so nice and friendly and helpful. Somehow, we ended up
right in front of the hotel and I rolled right into the garage.
Stefan waited with the motorcycles while the manager took me
upstairs to see a room. He went to a door, opened it, and then
closed it, quickly, so I couldn't see in, and moved on to a new
room to show me. Which was acceptable.
Were I a single woman, or traveling with just one other woman, I
probably wouldn't stay at the Plaza Hotel. There must be better
hotels in Santa Cruz del Quiche, and if you can find such, go
for it. We couldn't find such. We were so tired, sundown was
close, the market was going on in downtown so we were having
trouble navigating through the city, and the room was clean -
the sheets, the other bedding, the floor and the bathroom, all
clean. It is a WELL worn place though - there's nothing new and
nothing matches.
Our
sheets were RED. I also got to see my first suicide shower
- we passed on using that. But all plumbing worked. The Internet
worked okay. And the parking was private - the door was closed
at a reasonable hour. If you go here, make sure you look at the
room and the beds first before saying "yes" (that's true of most
hotels in developing countries). The Plaza Hotel is local cash
only, BTW.
Since we ended up in Quiche on market night (It was a Tuesday
night) and it was right there by us, we walked out to see it
and, wow, it was AMAZING. It was not at all like the other
markets we had been experiencing. This is not a market for
tourists - this is a regular market that locals attend. There's
beautiful vegetables and fruits,
there's
beautiful Mayan woman clothing for sale, there's
backpacks, plastic chairs, electronics, kitchenware, shoes,
bicycles, stationary - EVERYTHING. The market stalls just go on
and on and on throughout the streets, and it's fascinating and I
LOVED it. I guess this is what the famous Chichicastenango
market is like, but the timing was wrong for me then - at night,
in the coolness, with no tourists at all, I loved the Quiche
market. The people working the market are so friendly, not
pushy, and many, once they realized we were foreigners,
enthusiastic to chat. The Quiche market was a highlight of my
entire two weeks in Guatemala and it's because we that run down
hotel we were able to find it and enjoy it.
The main plaza and church were near enough to walk to and it
felt lovely to walk out there and take in the views of families
enjoying the evening, the church service, the beautiful sky...
there was a woman selling hot corn on the cob, and oh yeah, you
can take the girl out of Kentucky but you can't take Kentucky
out of the girl. Of course I bought one. She didn't have butter
- that's not what they eat on corn on the cob - so I went with
the local ancient Mayan tradition of mayo. And lemme tell ya -
it
was DELICIOUS.
We went back to the hotel, drank some beer and booked a hotel
for the next night in the next town.
I was so happy - I had my first really completely great day in
Guatemala. I had loved the Mayan site and I had loved this
total-surprise endless street market. And I was loving how
helpful and friendly Guatemalans were. I was also happy to be
away from so many, many tourists and all the pollution. I didn't
know it at the time, but this was the turning point of the trip,
for all the right reasons. I heard the large garage door closing
before we went to bed and knew our motorcycles would be fine all
night.
We got a fine night's sleep in the hotel. I couldn't believe how
much the city quieted down in the night. And both of us were
better, tummy wise. That morning, we walked out to find a
breakfast place. No luck. We ate some cookies and drank some
Sprite and hoped for better food luck down the road.
I decided to abandon the idea that the MAG owner had made, to
write
a
list of all the villages we would go through and tape it to my
tank. He'd said it was a really useful thing to do, to
point to the list and have locals tell you where you were and
how to get to the next village, if you get lost. And were we
going back roads, it would have been a good thing to do. But
between Stefan's GPS and Google Maps, we usually knew where we
were. We usually could not tell from signs, however - we rarely
saw a sign telling us what city we were entering.
We mounted up and headed out to Huehuetenango to visit Zaculeu,
a site of Mayan ruins in the city. It was
a
nice ride, but once in the city, it was not easy to find -
despite it being in the city, we never saw a sign for it, and
had to ask for directions from someone - Stefan's GPS couldn't
find it and the Google Map wasn't clear either.
If you are in the area and have never seen Mayan ruins, or you
are really into them, or you want some really great views of the
surrounding area and the air pollution isn't too bad, Zaculeu is
worth a visit, but be prepared: this is almost like a carnival
site. There are people selling really touristy stuff right
inside the park, right next to the historic structures. Children
are running around like it's a public park and everyone is
taking selfies - no one was getting a guided tour the day we
were there. Didn't seem like anyone there cared about the
history, and I think that attitude, and that it was restored by
a fruit company, have people doubting the authenticity of the
restoration. I half expected carnival rides. It looks like a LOT
of the structures have been taken away, and what's left of the
site has been restored in a way that will leave you wondering if
it truly looked like this back in the day - though many sources
say the site looks so different than other Mayan sites in
Guatemala because Zaculeu came under the influence of central
Mexico, and that the Mayans did use plaster to cover steps and
walls (
see Wikipedia
for more). I sound like I didn't like the visit. That's
not so - I did.
The
sky was gorgeous. And
the
structures are interesting. You can walk up any restored
pyramid no restrictions. Beautiful views all around.
I'm
glad we went, but it's definitely not for everyone.
We had a very nice meal at the restaurant across from the
entrance - we were starving since we hadn't had a real breakfast
- and the parking lot has an attendant (very nice Mayan lady).
We were the first people in the restaurant, and after the
waitress/cook met us, she put on music videos - German carnival
music videos, which Stefan hates beyond measure. Not sure how
she figured out he was German - I was trying to do the talking.
But I asked her to turn the music down and she seemed HAPPY to.
I saw
a
truck with the Mercy Corps logo almost next to our bikes
when we were done with our tour. Mercy Corps is an international
development and humanitarian agency with its headquarters in
Portland. They do very good work abroad. They were supposed to
take over
NetAid,
but after getting the domain name for the web site, they ended
the program (so glad that in my first year at the UN I managed
to separate the
online volunteering
service out of NetAid and fully under the UN - very proud
that program continues all these many years later). I tried so
hard to get a job with Mercy Corps my first five or six years in
Oregon, applying for jobs and attending their public events and
what not. I gave up. But I would have loved to have met the
local Mercy Corps person in Guatemala, just to say, "Hey, I live
in Portland, Mercy Corps is terrific!" In SPANISH. But I never
saw he or she.
We pushed on to
Nebaj. Because we had booked a hotel the
night before, it made the ride there nicer: I could just
enjoy
the views and not worry about finding a place to stay. And
when we got to the city, we did not have to go through the
stress and frustration of finding a hotel, going in, asking if
there was a room, and if not, going to the next one, etc. -
there was one waiting for us.
At some point, I saw a city sign for a place called Llano
Coyote. I don't know if we went near it or through it though.
The ride to Nebaj was more steep and more winding than we had
ever done, we were much more in the jungle than ever before, and
we were following trucks loaded down with products, gravel,
cement and more - we HAD to pass them because of how slow they
went up those incredibly steep hills. It was intense, it was
challenging, I had several "oh shit" moments, but I also did it.
I DID IT. That old Yamaha 250 XT was a champ, taking those
oh-so-tight corners and getting up those hills faster than the
slow trucks and chicken buses as well as any other motorcycle on
the road. By the time we got to Nebaj, I was fried - but kind of
exhilarated at what I was accomplishing.
Stefan picked our hotel,
Don Layo de Nebaj, online the
night before and I wouldn't be surprised to learn if it was the
nicest hotel in Nebaj:
sparkling
clean, modern rooms, great plumbing, hot water for
showers, decent Internet, VERY comfy beds, very quiet, and
protected parking (we were on motorcycles and needed such). The
antithesis of our previous hotel in many ways, in terms of
modernity. Our room was just as clean as that hotel, but way
more attractive and more quiet. And just like everywhere else in
Guatemala, super friendly staff. Added bonus: a restaurant on
the top floor with open views of the city. The hotel is right in
the center of town. The steps inside are a bit steep - be
careful. But I highly recommend this place.
The city of
Nebaj is
not
for a picture postcard. Neither was
Chichicastenango or
Quiche. But I was really liking these cities. I
loved that we were the only tourists. I loved the dignity of the
Mayan women in their beautiful clothes. I loved the sincerity of
the welcomes and greetings. I loved the little villages and lone
tiendas here and there on the road to wherever we were going. I
loved that people didn't see us as people to urgently try to
sell something to. When you walk around these towns, there's not
a lot to see in terms of,
Wow, Look at THAT! But there's
just a nice feeling, a genuine friendliness... I am walking
around someone's hometown, and they live here, and they are
doing their best, and I'm happy to be able to be a part of it,
even for just a day. And these people are always, always
WORKING.
I was also seeing poverty that drives people to try to go to the
USA. People working really hard but no chance of saving money,
building wealth, etc. People who have been the victim of
murderous, racist regimes. People who have NOT been given the
opportunities and rights every person deserves.
Nebaj is supposed to have some great hiking outside the city.
I
bet it is nice, but really steep.
It had taken eight and a half hours to get from Quiche to Nebaj,
with the two hours midway for the visit to Zaculeu. We were
exhausted - but not enough to not want to walk around Nebaj a
bit. I was struck by just how much someone's face would light up
if our eyes met and I said, "Buenas!" A stoic, cold face would
transform. One woman both responded and waved enthusiastically.
In the town square, we asked a little girl with her mother or
grandmother to use Stefan's phone to
take
a photo of us, which she did, and then a few minutes
later, there she was again, with a different woman, who said the
little girl really wanted her photo WITH us, would we mind? Oh
my goodness, I almost burst into tears.
I would go on a rant now about how I wish Oregonians were
friendly and said Good morning and Good evening and all that,
but it will never change, so...
For supper, we went to the restaurant above our hotel. We had...
a meal. I had decided to have a beef dish, since Guatemalans are
supposed to do great things with beef. It was not a great piece
of meat. I was underwhelmed, but not hungry after I ate what I
could. But it was a beautiful location and the restaurant was
open air - a ceiling, but lots of open walls into the night. We
reviewed hotels for our next destination, made a reservation,
and then we went back to the room and I had a much-needed
shower.
Note: in Nebaj, the tiendas don't sell beer - such is available
only at liquor stores, apparently.
The next day,
we
had breakfast in the restaurant. I ordered pancakes but
they never came.., but the breakfast they did bring was fine.
It was time to leave, and that meant going back out of the road
we'd taken to Nebaj. Stefan had originally planned to take a
different road from Nebaj, but the motorcycle rental guy advised
against it. Now that I have been to Guatemala, I see why. Maybe
I could have done the road, but the matter isn't always whether
or not you can you ride it - it's how long it takes. And on
pavement, rides were taking a LONG time. We were not at all
slower than other traffic - often, even on the 250s, we were
much faster than other vehicles, even some cars. But I really
cannot emphasize enough how steep and winding these roads are.
And how many speed bumps there are. Just 10 miles of Guatemalan
road will take SO much longer than you expect. The motorcycle
rental guy had pointed out that, if we didn't get to a certain
place by nightfall, there would be NO hotels. And he's right -
there are towns where there are NO hotels.
In Mexico, a speed bump is called a
tope. But in
Guatemala, they are called
túmulos. There is often no
warning at all that you are about to ride over them, so Stefan
asked me to tell him when I saw one, since he often didn't see
them. And for some reason, I kept mispronouncing them and
calling them "To-PAH!" He is still hearing me saying "To-PAH!"
in his dreams. And I will hear the word "indicator", since I
frequently forget to turn off my blinker, or don't turn it off
quick enough for Stefan. Anyway... we were told that speed bumps
were everywhere in
Baja, but they weren't. But,
yeah, they are throughout
every town in Guatemala. A
good thing about them: they are a perfect opportunity to pass a
truck or other slow-moving vehicle.
The road from Nebaj didn't take as long coming out/down as it
took going up because there weren't as many trucks in front of
us this time. We saw small groups of men every few yards out
along the road for several miles, clearing the encroaching
jungle from the sides. They were obviously locals, not a work
crew brought in from elsewhere. I hope the government is
compensating them for this work. We got to the turnoff to go
West on the 7W, a new road for us, and there was this man in the
middle of the three way intersection selling pineapples. I wish
I had a photo of him: he was set up in the road and had five or
so sets of two pineapples each around him, and then a circle of
pineapples immediately around him. I hope the pineapple Gods
protected him from oncoming traffic.
On our way to the city of Coban, we stopped at a gas station so
we could hydrate and cool off and, of course, pee. I sat down
and leaned against a wall in the shade, drinking a Coca Cola and
wondering
what
I looked like. Later, we stopped at
a
roadside tienda for ice cream, and as we sat on the steps
eating it, each of the family living in the house nearby came to
the store, pretending not to be there to have a look at us. I
really needed to pee, and I just knew this place wouldn't have a
bathroom. I was wrong - she pointed to a tidy, freshly-painted
cement little building around the side. It had no door. I walked
in and there was a clean, flushing toilet, surrounded by gravel,
and with a sink with running water and liquid soap ready to use.
And not for the first time, I marveled that the developing
country of Guatemala has plenty of clean, public toilets, but
Portland, Oregon does not.
We also got stuck in a major traffic backup because of
construction. Just one lane of traffic was being allowed through
the area at a time. The unofficial rule everywhere is that
motorcycles get to go to the front of the line, so, indeed, we
followed other motorcycles and went to the front of the line.
We arrived at last in Coban. Its name comes from
Q'eqchi'
(between clouds). I learned that after the trip, I also learned
after our trip that a German colony once settled in the area of
Coban around the late 1800s. Their main commercial activity was
coffee plantations. In 1941, many Germans were expelled by the
Guatemalan government, official because of pressure from the
United States, but also because the government wanted to seize
control of the vast amounts of land Germans owned in the area.
Many Guatemalan Germans ended up in internment camps in Texas
and were later traded for American POW's held in Germany. A
sizable resident German population persists though most having
been completely assimilated into the Guatemalan culture through
intermarriage.
The dominant ethnicity here is Q'eqchi' Mayan. I really loved
being in the areas of Guatemala dominated by the Mayans. I can't
explain it. The areas just felt laid back, calm, friendly,
comfortable, and different than anywhere I've ever been.
The
pavement ended for a while, which was a surprise, but the
dirt and gravel was in great condition. Stefan said, via our
motorcycle com, that he remembered it from Itchy Boots video
from the country, and we came to a little water crossing and
that's when I remembered it too.
The
picture makes it look harder than it was - it was easy,
especially on those little bikes.
Once we were in
Coban to find our little old
colonial-style hotel,
Hotel Casa Duranta. The hotel's
private parking was down the street, just a block away, next to
a Cuban medical clinic. I loved the hotel immediately, with the
rooms
surrounding a lovely garden and antiques everywhere,
including some
very
old juke boxes and
sewing
machine tables converted to dining tables and desks. It
almost felt like a converted monastery.
Sitting
in the passageway outside our room, looking out
into
the courtyard, updating social media and just grooving to
the smells and sounds, was delightful. No air conditioning, but
it cools off at night so much, we didn't need it. In fact, on
this entire trip, we had air conditioning just once at a hotel.
I changed into my UNICEF travel dress and off we went to explore
by foot. Maybe it was because there were lots of veterinarian
and pet supply stores around us and I hope that, maybe, this
town cared more for dogs than other places (turned out not to
really be true), maybe it was because they were having
a
big used book sale in the town square, but
I
liked Coban a lot. One of the banners at the book sale
read,
El
que lee mucho y anda much, ve mucho y sabe mucho. I
translated for Stefan: "He that reads a lot and walks a lot,
sees a lot and knows a lot." it's a quote from Miguel de
Cervantes en Don Quijote, book two, chapter 25, according to
online searches. There was a fantastic selection of used books
in excellent condition and I SO wanted to buy some, like
this
Spanish edition of The Little Prince, but we just
did not have room to pack books on the bikes.
We wandered into a place selling everything from new washing
machines to new motorcycles.
All
the motorcycles were from China and most were 150s, though
we did find some 250s, even one I'd call a dual sport. The
salesperson was disappointed we didn't want to buy but was
patient as we looked all over the inventory and made comments.
It was time for supper! We started looking online for
restaurants, found plenty with great reviews, and would make our
way towards such - and get there and find that they were closed,
maybe permanently. It kept happening and I was getting hangry.
Just when we were ready to to give up on finding food or would
end up going to McDonald's, we were suddenly standing in front
of a quaint, tiny, gorgeous restaurant:
La
Abadia. The owner welcomed us in and sat us at the only
available table. I quickly realized this place is usually by
reservation only and we were lucky to have gotten seated. Our
meals were delicious - polished off with a decent, affordable
bottle of Chilean wine. Stefan commented that it wasn't just the
best meal he had in Guatemala, it was the best meal he'd had in
a long while - it was a pasta dish with some curry.
I
had the shrimp and risotto. What a special place!
We were more than halfway through the trip now, and I was so
happy to be in Guatemala. It's not that I was miserable in those
first four days, I just hadn't had my "wow" moment that I need
on a trip, other than the water crossing between Antigua and
Lake Atitlan. But everything had changed on the way to Nebaj,
and I was totally in my favorite travel zone, mentally.
The next day, once again, the Internet was no help in our quest
for breakfast - the places it recommended weren't there or
weren't open. I would have been fine with McDonald's, and
suggested it, but we went to a tiny cafe on the town square
instead. Stefan said it was filthy but I couldn't see the
kitchen (my back was to it), and the pancakes I had were SO
GOOD!
On the way back to the hotel,
we
encountered goats on the street. Had a
flashback
to Kabul back in 2007, where goats and sheep in the street
were a common sight.
We hung out at the hotel until late in the morning because we
didn't have far to go and weren't in a hurry. We had already
booked our next hotel, for two nights, and didn't want to arrive
before check-in, So we sat in the lovely little parlor next to
the dining area and played on the Internet and just grooved on
the vibe. I think the hotel MAY have served breakfast (not
included in the room price), but I hadn't asked about it (my
bad).
At last, it was time to head out. As we rode, I started to
notice something that I noticed throughout the rest of the trip:
this country has
a
lot of funerias - funeral homes. As many as we
have in the South. I feel like most countries, and most states
outside of the South, kind of hide their funeral homes, or don't
have them at all. Not Guatemala - they were plentiful. We also
would sometimes see a shack with
farmacia painted
sloppily on the side - glad I had brought all my meds with me.
It felt like
the
jungle was getting thicker. I was loving the landscape,
though there weren't many places to pull over and take
photos.
Before the road that leads down to Lanquín, we pulled over at a
tienda to have some ice cream and
marvel
at the view. Being in the jungle is an amazing sight and
an amazing feeling. I was sorry we had to turn down a guy at the
tienda who wanted a ride on the back of Stefan's motorcycle to
Lanquin, but since we weren't sure what the roads were like, and
because we didn't have a way of easily adjusting Stefan's bag,
we had to say no.
The road to Lanquín drops down significantly into a valley, and
when we were there, it had just been widened and paved. It's
clear the government of Guatemala has plans to turn San Agustín
Lanquín and Semuc Champey into a MAJOR tourism site, on par with
Flores and Tikal. I was so glad it wasn't raining, because this
would have all been a slick nightmare, and I'm sure mudslides
are going to close the new road frequently. We pulled into the
village of Lanquín and it was cobblestone and the streets were
STEEP. As we headed to the
El Retiro Lodge, Lanquin I
saw a house high on a hill with the local for Heifer
International on it. We saw a sign for the lodge and pulled into
the dirt driveway in front of the office bungalow. We were able
to check in early and I went ahead and booked us for the hotel
truck to Semuc Champey the next morning - then regretted it
because I wanted to get there as early as possible, right when
the place opened. Oh, well, too late...
The lodge turned out to be perfect for us - it was exactly what
I wanted. It's a small resort and
the
grounds are gorgeous, with rooms broken up into different
bungalows. But the
grounds
are STEEP - it's quite a schlep down to
the
restaurant and bar right on the river and, when it's
raining, the walkways are treacherously slippery - I did best
walking around barefoot. I can't find the river it's on on any
map (it's not Rio Cahabon) - the resort has
its
own private swimming spot right on the river and wonderful
views of the jungle all around. We thought the restaurant was
decent and, after a refreshing swim, we decided to have
cocktails
(I had a mango vodka) and nachos on a table overlooking the
river. The restaurant staff are all SUPER nice and very
accommodating (when I asked for something on the lunch menu for
supper the next day, they were fine with such). And
the
resort dogs are better cared for than any other outside
dogs I saw on the entire trip (I still fed them). It's the only
hotel we stayed in on this entire trip that had air
conditioning. And it was surprisingly affordable.
The
restaurant has hammocks, there was a hammock outside our
room, and I did partake in the hammocks - and it was really
nice, especially when it started raining and there was nothing
else to do but lay in a hammock under the leafy roof of the
restaurant and just chill. They have a pool table and a ping
pong table in the restaurant and they were so popular with
guests we never got to play. Internet only at the restaurant,
but that was absolutely fine.
I so enjoyed the rain that evening. I loved the sound and the
smell. But I so didn't want it to be raining in the morning...
I wasn't crazy about the bed (hard as a rock) or what they
provided as a pillow (also a rock). No private, covered parking
for the motorcycles, but they were on the property, right
outside the office and we never worried. I was super worried
about noise - this place caters to a younger crowd. But
apparently everyone was either really hungover from earlier
shenanigans or needed to get some sleep for the excursions the
next day. We would NOT be doing the cave tour, as so many would
be: Stefan said he wasn't interested and, per my knees, I knew
it would be impossible. We just wanted to swim in the pools of
Semuc Champey...
I had learned about Semuc Champey from watching Itchy Boots: in
2022,
Noraly went to
Guatemala, and
seeing
her swim in those pools... oh how I wanted to do that too!
But if you watch the video, note the HUGE wolf spider she almost
touches when she's showing the shower at her hotel. Back then,
the road isn't paved, and she rides her motorcycle all the way
to the parking lot of the site. It doesn't look hard, per what
she shows on the video, but now that I had spent time in
Guatemala, I suspected the road was MUCH more difficult than she
had shown. The place we rented motorcycles from, which caters to
very experienced, very macho off-road riders, said they don't
ride to the site - they pile into the back of a truck just like
everyone else. So I said I didn't want to ride. I know Stefan
was disappointed with my decision, at least at first.
We got up early, it wasn't raining, and I guess I really am old:
the driver all but insisted I sit inside the cab of the truck
rather than stand in the back with everyone else. Sigh... At
first, the road was paved, though winding and very steep, and I
knew Stefan was wishing we were on our bikes. Eventually we came
to hard packed mud, and it looked SO slick - I was super glad we
weren't on our motorcycles. We were now a part of a convoy of
trucks full of people in the back, and I saw a member of the
road crew take out his camera to take photos of us. We did kind
of all look ridiculous.
The
views as we went down down down were spectacular. The
closer we got to the site, the tougher the road got, and the
last four miles in particular were really, really winding and
steep. Stefan even said there was one turn at the end he
couldn't have done.
We later learned that an overloaded tuk tuk capsized on that
road that morning. Everyone was okay but... yikes.
Here's
a video of part of the ride.
Once we got to the parking lot and got out, the truck driver
reminded us to please be back by 1 p.m. We headed to the
bathrooms, then went to pay to get into the park.
Be aware:
it
is a TOUGH trail to the pools And, after
just
a few yards on the rocky trail, everyone disappeared. We
were alone. I couldn't figure out what was going on. I knew a
lot of people had passed us, but they weren't at the first pool
when we arrived. And there was no one behind us. And since we
had the first pool entirely to ourselves,
we
walked the precarious rocky trail down to the water and
went
in - we had our bathing suits on under our clothes and we
left our clothes and packs near the water's edge, knowing that
it would be easy to see someone attempting to steal them, since
it is SO hard to get down to the water's edge. The water was
GLORIOUS - so clear, a great temperature, and it was all ours. I
had imagined us swimming amid hoards of people.
Where
was everyone? I think most of the truck went on the cave
tour first, and everyone else either hiked to the top of the
cliff to get a photo of the pools from up above or hiked to the
top pools because those are the "main" pools. I couldn't believe
we were having the magical experience I wanted to have but had
decided would be impossible:
we were all
alone, swimming in paradise.
Here's a
video of me in paradise.
We eventually got out and hiked up to the second pool, above the
first, and other than a guy posing on a rock, who I dubbed
Instagram Guy, and a French woman who couldn't accept that we
couldn't understand her and kept trying to ask questions,
we
had that one to ourselves too (the French woman wouldn't
get in - she stayed on the shore). I felt like I was in a movie
- I was swimming in crystal clear waters, tinged in turquoise,
near waterfalls. Glorious. I loved it so much. I was so grateful
that the hoards weren't there. What a gift.
It was time to see the rest of the site, so we headed up the
stone trail to the main part of the site. And it is very
beautiful, and there is a place where you can, literally, jump
into the water safely, which we did. I haven't jumped into water
in YEARS. Which is why a bit of water went up my nose. Wasn't
happy about that - I'd like to avoid all brain-eating amoebae,
thanks. But oh how I swam. I swam and I swam. I swam every inch
of that pool. It had about 15 people in it, unfortunately, all
very focused on taking the best Instagram photos possible. I
ruined several of their attempts, including those of one woman I
had found annoying at our hotel - she kept flashing her but
crack all around the restaurant. I have never seen anyone take
such pains to expose themselves. I'm surprised she didn't strain
something.
It took some effort to climb out of that pool - the best way put
me on the entire other side of the upper most pool, which was
PACKED with people. It took some maneuvering to get through them
all and to where we had left our stuff, which was all still
there, thankfully (the lockers at the building next to these
main pools were all broken - we had brought a lock, but it was
useless). It seemed like there were far more people there than
when we came. It was a Saturday, and it dawned on me that about
half the people were Guatemalans - of course they come here
too!
We eventually headed back to the parking lot, and by the time we
got there and used the rest room and had a soda, the driver was
there and so was everyone who wanted a ride back, so we left 10
minutes early. I was beyond contented.
If you go to Semuc Champey, I highly recommend you pay your own
driver and you get there right when the place opens, especially
if you want to go to the uppermost pool when it's not crazy
crowded, and do NOT go on a weekend. I also warn you: the
situation for dogs at the site, in the parking lot, is
particularly heart-breaking.
We were back at the resort and it was time for a nap. I was
tired but so satisfied: a dream come true, swimming in Semuc
Champey, often alone. Being in the jungle. Being somewhere
beautiful, where people were so friendly. The trip hadn't
started out well, but here we were, and at last, I felt at home.
There is usually a "oh, it's SO good to be home" feeling I get
when I travel, and I was having it. Problems that have kept me
up at night for months are put on hold. I don't think about
work, or trying to find a job, or how I wish I hadn't said this
or wish I HAD said that. No second guessing choices. Just being
present and enjoying the moment, whether it's somewhere
ridiculously beautiful or just taking a nap.
I will never, ever be allowed to have chickens, because Stefan
was kept from sleeping during our because of an ever-crowing
rooster. Somehow, it didn't keep me up, but that damn bird
tortured him during the nap attempt and in the middle of the
night and in the morning.
That night, we hung out in the bungalow restaurant, talking with
a couple we'd met the day before about their experience so far,
recommending our Tikal guide to some others going there, having
a nice dinner, drinking beer, people watching and picking our
hotel for the next night. Picking a hotel was proving to be a
challenge - online booking sites did not show any hotels at all
for Salama. When we zoomed in on Google Maps, however, we saw
plenty. Since every hotel in Belize communicated via WhatsApp, I
texted a hotel - I don't remember why we picked it (I thought I
had found it in
Lonely Planet Guatemala, but it's not
there).
Everything was different now, and had been since Q'Umarkaj and
Quiche. I was loving this trip. And I can't really tell you why.
Maybe it was because we were riding motorcycles almost every day
and I was loving the riding, maybe it was because I loved being
in cities where people actually lived and weren't overrun with
tourists, maybe it was the Mayan ruins, maybe because our swims
at Semuc Champey had been largely crowd free, maybe because all
of our hotels had been wonderful in some way... all I know was
that, for the last five days, I was having a great time. But it
just goes to show that you can't let a bad start derail a trip.
I really try to start fresh every day, and I try so hard not to
have expectations. Lessons for when I'm not on vacation as
well...
And can you believe I was maintaining my streak on Duolingo all
this time?
end part two
Link to
Travelogue Part 3 (final part)
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January 2024 Guatemala Motorcycle Adventure main page.
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