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Published: February 10th 2008
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Heaven on Earth
Not only was it paradise, we were the only people there Catching the 6 am lift from Casa Luna, we squeezed onto a crowded microbus with no other gringos and wound speedily through the narrow, pre-dawn streets of Coban.
Once again, the leg room proved to be insufficient for our lanky frames, but our first glimpse of the jungle set our minds at ease (kind of).
The sun began to rise behind dull clouds and thick blue fog only once we left the buildings behind for dense forests of dark green pointed by sharp, exotic palm fronds.
We picked up and dropped off many - men, women, children - all with the most polite ´Buenos dias!´ every time.
After an hour, it began to rain, hard - we could easily imagine the flash flooding and landslides we´d heard about.
After two hours, we arrived at Lanquin - a crossroads of a town on a hillside.
We had heard Semuc Champey was difficult to reach, so when we were told to get off the bus in Lanquin, we were happy to be greeted by a smiling man with a handshake and a pickup truck ready to take us to our hostel (Posada Las Marias).
We transferred
Bridge...
...Over the Rio Cahabon ourselves and our gear to the back of his truck.
We were joined by a likable farmer who found our camelbaks quite funny, and a couple of Mayan women - one middle-aged and one old.
The elder was very petite with the most deeply creased face that crinkled into an expansive smile she was not bashful about sharing after losing her balance in the bed of the truck.
Like many of our fellow passengers throughout the morning, the two women got out of the truck at a more or less unmarked spot and wandered off, causing us to wonder repeatedly about the nature of peoples´ lives here.
On our drives, we´ve seen hundreds marching purposefully alongside the road in both directions.
The men and boys usually wear cowboy hats - white and worn to dirty and gray - rubber boots, and often carry machetes.
The women and girls invariably wear wide, woven skirts of red, blue, purple, etc., and often carry large bundles or baskets, sometimes on their heads.
After an exciting and gorgeous dirt-road-rumble, we found ourselves at Las Marias, and it was only 8am.
Two
Bamboo hut
An isolated home along the road to Semuc Champey days of swimming and sun ensued.
---------
Our first day at Las Marias we napped, ate, swam, read, and basically relaxed... all day. Quite nice.
The second morning began with a 9am trip to the nearby caves (las cuevas) not knowing just what we were in for... but excited and slightly nervous.
We were joined by a sweet Guatemalan family - young Mario (who, handily, spoke some English) and his proud grandparents (both old-seeming 62-year-olds) and we were led by Rojo - a spry, kindly guide.
We dove into the deep, dank caves, leaving the hot sunshine behind.
Immediately the water was up to our knees - cool, and not stagnant as we had expected.
Rojo handed us each a thin, white candle and we were off!
The walls and ceilings seemed to move with the candlelight.
At times, the space was high and wide so the light could barely reach it; at times, it was tight around us and we had to duck and scramble.
The surface changed as well: sometimes smooth and wavy, sometimes sharp and angled - in places it resembled brain coral.
After only 50
meters, we were told, ´Nadar! Nadar! Sweem!´
With one hand aloft, keeping the flame alive, we broke out the trusty side stroke.
It went on like this - swimming, scrambling over rocks, climbing ladders and ropes, shooting down dark holes of rushing water, making music by tapping on stalagmites, and examining the strange lava formations.
Two hours later, we re-emerged, happy to be warmed again by the sun.
We finished with a climb to a mirador (lookout), a jump off the rope swing (20 foot drop into the water once you cleared the rocks), and a half-hour tube ride down the lazy Rio Cahabon back to our hostel.
Pretty nice day and it was only lunchtime.
-------
After meeting a couple of new arrivals over lunch (who had walked the 10km from Lanquin) we threw our wet swimsuits back on and headed to the park at Semuc Champey on foot.
The dirt road wound along the river past two or three bamboo huts and some sparse corn plantings before running into an old, creaky, yellow bridge.
Just on the other side, two men were working the land with mattocks and shovels
- moving earth from the high side to the low in an attempt to level their meager, hillside plot.
The three daughters of one of the men came running at full speed toward the road - the oldest (maybe 8) was clutching a basket and determinedly yelling, ´Chocolate! Chocolate!´
Behind her trailed her flowing dark-red skirt and her two younger sisters.
Knowing chocolate was not a good companion for a long, hot hike, we promised her we´d return on our way home.
Shortly we arrived at Semuc Champey, purchased some sticky sweet piña chunks (pineapple) and entered the park.
There was no doubt we had to hike to El Mirador to catch a glimpse of the emerald pools below, and braced ourselves for the (apparently) hour-long, difficult, and steep ascent in the blazing sun.
Though quite an incline, and extremely humid, the fresh air and exercise were invigorating, and we reached la vista in 20 minutes.
Descending through the shaded woods, the sound of rushing water grew louder.
Bursting from the trees, we stumbled to the edge of a gash in the earth.
Water poured forcefully into the opening beneath our
Las Marias
front yard feet, while calm, brilliant, blue pools extended downstream.
Ditching our clothes, we dove in with grins the size of watermelon slices.
We flipped and flopped and rolled and splashed; we dove between the lily-pad shaped pools and lazed in the sun.
White cotton wads of clouds tossed against the solid blue sky, and the steep forested hills offered the perfect backdrop to our isolated paradise.
Even in the Caribbean, there is no water so blue...
Eventually, we reluctantly tore ourselves away and followed the river back out of the park.
Passing the huts down the road, our chocolate girl was not at her post.
Her father was still digging, and when we inquired, he called her up from the river.
She barreled uphill, pulling her shirt back on as she ran, ´Uno momento!´she called as she grabbed her basket from the hut.
The big smile she provided revealed teeth that might have seen too much of her own product.
We happily bought some of the carefully-wrapped chocolate and strolled back to the hostel.
------
Feeling quite satisfied, we sat down for dinner, and discovered that due to
Monkey!
The hostel´s little friend, Pogo a ´communication breakdown´ we had failed to pre-order food as required.
It worked out as we happily just got second breakfast.
Something went screwy with our watch/alarm (Honore´s prized Casio from Guatemala City) and we awoke an hour early for our 5 am bus the next morning.
But that´s a story for another time...
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Maura Callahan
non-member comment
WOW
Beautiful, wonderful, love the picture of the flowers, you really are transported! I am so happy reading your exquisite descriptions. Are you sending this to Brittany's parents? Thank you for sending a little piece of the heaven you have found. Bravo.