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Realising the direct route had started at 7am that morning and it was taking the same two hour bumpy boat journey back to Chetamal we had two options, stay another night or find another route.
After drinking our body weight in rum punch the pervious afternoon and passing out at 6pm we felt pretty ready for a random adventure, so after packing we wandered to the jetty to get a boat to Belize City, with a destination in mind but a path yet to be forged.
After an expensive few days we decided to walk the 15 minutes though Belize City to the bus station, nearly everyone we had met had warned us that Belize City was dangerous and to be careful, I stayed aware and observanted but it just seemed like a busilying beach front capital. As we approached the bus station a chicken bus to Chetemal was pulling out, we ran to jump on and settled into our seats. As we drove though the Belize country side the land scape began to resemble that of Yuatan, dusty, sandy towns with greener than expected sections of trees. It was a pleasant 5hr bus journey to the border at Chetumal, once
though Belize immigration we were told the bus ended there and we had to walk across a bridge to the Mexican boarder. It has happened to me a lot on my travels that I have been made to get off the bus and physically walk across the boarder, even if the bus is crossing too, I suppose I understand but I do find it rather strange wandering though no mans land from one country to the next. Once in Chetemal it was the night bus to Palenque, Sophie's first long bus, and with travel sickness unfortunately she didn't sleep a wink unlike me who passed out almost straight away and slept the whole time. As we begin our journey further North the police presents became more noticeable our coach was stopped and police got on a shone a torch in each passengers face at least four times, a tad reassuring it did leave me pondering what exactly a solo police man would do if he got on the bus and was met with militants.
Once in Palenque we took a taxi to the small jungle village of El Pancha just on the tip of the ruin conservation area. It was
6.30am, the sound of the bugs was overwelleming but soothing luckily one hostel owner was awake and showed us into a canbana.
Those few nights proved one thing, I am not cut out to live in the jungle! Mostly at night! The noises, the bugs, the HOWLER MONKEYS! (Seriously Google it, I never knew a monkey could sound like a Panther! And somewhere a panther lives! Agh! )
By day the charming harmless setting would settle you in then bam! The biggest ants I've ever seen, hornets, cockroaches, unidentifiable bugs, spiders, snakes! THE JUNGLE IS MASSIVE! Apart from these scary interludes we enjoyed a day wandering the ruins, dipping and jumping in breathtaking waterfalls and listening to amazing live music while enjoying some of the tastiest food on our trip!
Departing the jungle we tactfully took a day bus up the mountains to San Cristobal, the road at night is renowned for militant danger and the route was closed all together the day before our departure. You would never believe this once sitting in the cosmopolitan town of San Cristobal sipping wine and eating tapas. A welcome 17* cool relief from the 35+ of late.
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