I'm in Guatemala today. As far as I can tell I'm on the outskirts of a town called Huehuetenango, but after the events of yesterday it's been pretty difficult to find out for certain :)
I'd left Tuxtla Guitierrez heading for Palenque two days ago, I'd been told Palenque was a four hour ride by the hotel staff but looking at my map, I could tell the road was going to be interesting, it certainly didn't look like a main road anyway. Tuxtla was in a low valley, and leaving town I could see dark clouds over the mountains to west and east. I assumed I was in for another soaking, but as the road wound into the east mountains I realised I was just riding in low lying cloud. A light misting on my visor was about the worst I got. As the road climbed higher I started to pass through villages of indian people, and I noticed that there seemed to be few men around, shabbily dressed, whilst the women wore beautiful shawls of deep blue and green. They seemed to be doing all the work, too. Clouds drifted across the road and clung to the surrounding rainforest, giving the place a magical quality and occasionally revealing beautiful views of the valley below. The trees dripped moisture.
I came upon a village on the edge of a mountain lake and stopped to take a picture. There were two ladies across the road from the bike, and as I wandered to get a good angle for a photo of the village I could see them watching me carefully. After taking a couple of shots I thought I'd ask them if I could take their picture, which turned out to be a big mistake. They flatly refused and looked very uncomfortable, so I held up my hands and not knowing what to say put the camera away quickly. I should have known better - I've read that native indians in South America believe that the camera steals your soul (a view which is reinforced if you've ever watched reality TV). I guess that is the case in southern Mexico and Central America too. I left town feeling like an intruder for the first time.
It quickly became apparent that the lady that told me I could get to Palenque in four hours had mistaken me for Valentino Rossi. The road twisted and turned and every few kilometers would pass through a small village with the usual "topes" which force you to a crawl over them. It took close to seven hours to reach Palenque, and I realised I'd have to stay in the town near the Mayan ruins overnight, so I found an hotel and got into some shorts for a nice cool walk around the ruins. That was when the hotel staff told me they were shut for the night (at 4pm).
Frustrated as my Mexican insurance was due to expire on Saturday, I was faced with going to the ruins and then trying to get to the border with Guatemala all on the Friday.
I got up at 7am expecting a long day, and was at las ruinas just after opening time at 8. The area is a national park, which costs 20 pesos to enter, but then you have to pay 48 pesos to get into the ruins. They have quite an industry built up around them and the area where I parked my bike was swarming with market stalls, and people trying to sell guide services to tourists. I'd planned on taking the expensive bits of equipment with me, but most of my bags had to stay on the bike so I took a bit of a risk and negotiated a rate for "Seguros" with a local lad in the car park.
I'd wanted to see some Mayan ruins ever since a dive trip to Mexico a couple of years ago, when I wanted to go to Chichen Itza but was voted down as it would use up a diving day. The ruins in Acumal area are pretty remote and jungle covered, but although Palenque is surrounded by dense jungle it has been well tended and has good paths.
I liberally covered myself in mosquito repellant and one of the staff told me there were no mosquitos, "solo serpientes". I told him I didn't have any snake repellant but I think the joke (such as it was) was lost in translation ;)
The ruins were cool, but unfortunately I wasn't. Being a low elevation, Palenque is incredibly humid and in my bike boots and trousers I was gushing sweat. I went through my two litres of water in an hour and then realised I'd have to leave shortly or risk dehydration. As I headed back to the bike, my impressions of the place were mixed. I thought it was amazing that anyone could ever live, let alone thrive, in this place. However I thought Palenque was pretty touristy compared to some smaller places in the Yucatan, and I figured it was easy to get carried away with how ancient it was, considering London had been around nearly 400 years by the time building began here.
The jungle itself was at least as fascinating as the ruins. Small furry creatures with long tails and colourful birds scampered and called in the trees, some broad leaves were as big as my crash helmet.
Leaving Palenque I found that the journey back down the same winding road I'd taken the day before was a lot quicker, and by lunchtime I was back on the main road and heading for the border with Guatemala. As I approached I could see a line of mountains ahead which I assumed was Guatemala, totally covered in thick, black cloud. A stop for fuel and a long diversion for roadworks meant it was close to 5pm when I got to Mexican immigration and got my exit stamp, and an exit stamp for the bike. Then I rode to Ciudad Cuauhtemoc, a few buildings which mark the frontier. When I arrived at the border I simply couldn't believe my eyes, it was so packed with people. I honestly lost the road, and when I realised where it was can only describe the last kilometer or so as like driving through a crowded market. There was barely enough space to get a car between the lines of stalls, and that space was filled with people, which made for a bizarre experience as I had to ride at the people to get them to move aside. Then I weaved the bike up towards the border through the chaos.
Entering Guatemala the bike had to be fumigated (12 quetzals) which meant dealing with one of the dodgy looking currency traders that more or less descend on you the second you turn off the ignition. I had a few pesos left which I converted and was able to pay the fumigator. Then I went to immigration and got my passport stamped, then I had to go to customs to get the bike imported. That cost 40 quetzals, and far from being the painful experience I'd expected I had a good laugh with the customs officers. One of them kept referring to his colleague as "Shrek", which I thought was a bit harsh, but funny :)
It was all downhill after that though. I put my watch back an hour for Guatemalan time, and headed out into the rain which had been falling steadily for the last hour. After threading the bike through an equally packed street on the Guatemalan side of the border, I decided I'd head for the nearest town. Customs had told me there was a town about an hour away, but I'd forgotten to get my Guatemala map out and was riding into the worstening weather with no real idea where I was going. The only sign was for Guatemala City, which meant I was on the right road, but other than that there were no speed limit signs, no town signs... and no signs warning of topes in the road. The topes are all much taller than in Mexico, and every time the bike bumped over one it would ground out with a nasty metallic bang.
The weather deteriorated into the worst storm I've ever seen, or at least been out in. Guatemala looked like it might be beautiful, soaring mountains either side of the valley I was headed down, but it was 6.30pm and pitch dark, the only time I caught a glimpse of the surrounding land was when lightning lit the entire sky. It was an incredible display, the more so because the water on the road was steaming, but I was taking a real pounding from the rain, and couldn't really see the road too well so I'd slowed to a crawl. I started to worry that if I didn't get off the road soon I would be in real trouble. Then I crested a rise and all I could see was huge blobs of rain coming at me horizontally out of the black. It was one of the lowest points of the trip, and had me questioning my sanity. I kept asking myself what I was doing, why the hell I was on a bike in Guatemala and not on a beach somewhere pleasantly warm with a cold drink.
Finally, mercifully, I started to see signs that I was approaching a town, some of the buildings I was passing even had lights on. At the first hotel sign I saw I pulled in. The guy on the door was tooled up which was a real shock. It's not every day you get greeted with a shotgun. However there had been armed guards at petrol stations and banks in southern Mexico, and at the border too. I guess they don't mess around here.
I got a room and as I was finding some cash the power went out. I had to be handed a towel so my hands and arms didn't soak the paper I wrote my name on. Then I was shown to my room by candlelight, which was a first! But the room was nice and the candle which I was given gave off a pleasant light. After I'd changed into some warm, dry clothes the power came on long enough for me to get a small meal, which I had to finish by candlelight as the power went off again. Whilst I was eating a small section of the restaurant's roof collapsed under the weight of water, I could hear the resulting splash but couldn't see it in the dark. It was a slightly surreal evening, but not unpleasant after the day I'd had :)
Today it's stopped raining, but I'm taking a day to let my soaked clothes dry out. I'd better get my map out and figure out where I am too :)
Have a great weekend.
Frase.
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