With no other option than to accept our fate we purchased new tickets and wandered back out into the sticky hot morning. I followed my two travel companions through the hot pungent air of the market that filled the streets area several blocks from the bus station. I clutched my sole token of Americano- a cold can of redbull- as if it would somehow create an invisible barrier between me and the smell of rotting fruit, the cuts of meat hanging from makeshift racks covered with flies, the old woman who held a chicken from its feet large enough that its lifeless head brushed the ground, and the frustration of being stuck here for another twelve hours when I was tired, grubby and my ability to keep down solid food was still very questionable.
Our trip had started Friday night at 7:30 when Jamil, his two friends Chandni and Jessica, and I all boarded a taxi for Guatamala city. There we would get on our overnight bus which would get us to Flores around 7am and from there we would head to Tekal- a national park full of large Mayan ruins. As you may remember from my last post I had not been feeling well on Friday. However thanks to a puke and a nap I seemed to be on the upswing by the time we headed out. I had skipped dinner but was sipping on some orange juice with protien powder in the taxi thinking it would be a safe source of nutrients to get me through the night. However, as we stood in the crowded bus terminal I began to feel incredibly irritable and anxious. It was hot, there was no where to sit, a baby was crying, a man was tapping his keys on the bench and the bus kept honking its horn. I stood in line but we didn´t move forward. We just stood there. Baby crying. Man tapping. Bus honking. Hot. Unmoving. I felt weak and wanted nothing more than to sit down. I began to feel clamy and suddenly felt a familiar tightening in my jaw.
"I´ll be right back." I said and darted across the station to the bathroom. I guess orange juice was not so safe after all.
We boarded the bus and I once again was feeling much better. I decided I would just not eat anything again until we reached Flores. Jamil had made one request of me "just don´t puke on me". It was a reasonable request.
I was determined to honor that request.As it turned out nausea was not my problem. I felt just fine for the rest of the bus trip. However the seats were small and not made to sleep in. The foot rest was too far away for my short frame to comfortably utilize. I shifted frequently- trying to find a position that allowed me to drift off while cuddling up to my backpack because I was also afraid of someone snatching it away as I slept. I did manage some sleep but when the bus reached Flores we all stumbled off groggigly and stiff. We managed to rally and found a cheap hotel and a shuttle to take us to Tekal.
Tekal is a National park in North Easter Guatemala and is the site of some of the tallest Mayan ruins in Central America. Achiologists are still working to uncover many more ruins that lay burried under centuries of earth and flora.It was raining when we arrived and so we bundled up, paid for a tour guide, and followed him into the dense green Jungle. Our guide was very knowledgeable, although we frequently found ourselves lost by his long winded diatribes about Mayan number systems and the work being done by Nasa to find more ruins. Regardlessly he lead us from plaza to plaza which held an increasing number of impressive and awe inspiring ruins.
At one point in the canopy above you could spot the small swinging bodies of spider monkeys. We also came across this guy rooting around in the dirt.
Our guide warned us to not get too close though. Evidently he can take down a German Shepard.We made our way throgh most of the ruins by 1pm, ate lunch and agreed that we were
wet, tired and ready to go.Back in Flores we napped and then headed out. Flores is a cute town on an island in the middle of lake Petén Itzá. It has a mellow island vibe, brightly painted buildings, and many resturants overlooking the western side of the lake where the sun sets. We found a place with a good happy hour and then later a resturant. However we were all exhasted from the bus trip and the Jungle trek and were in the hotel and asleep by 10:30pm.
Our bus the next day was at 10 or 10:30. There was some debate on this fact but we figured to be safe we should be at the place we had been told the bus picked up at 9:30. After breakfast we wandered the town a bit and then headed to the bus stop. I watched two young boys fish in the lake- with fishing line tied to small boards. They managed to pull in several small minows.
When there was no bus at 10 we all started to get a little anxious. Then it was 10:30 and still no bus. Jessica walked over to the bus office and was told the bus had already left. She called the travel agent we had booked our ticked through to find out how this was possible. It turns out the station we were at was not the station we were supposed to be at- even though it was the one we had been dropped off at. The right station was across the bridge in Santa Ana. We jumped in a Tuk tuk (small three wheeled taxicab) and headed to the station to sort things out. We had indeed missed our bus. The next bus wasn´t until 10pm.
And so there we were- 11am, in the densely hot, humid, putrid air of the Santa Ana market. But luckily we were all more or less on the same page. I thought about what would make this day enjoyable rather than miserable and I remembered the pool at the hotel where we had eaten breakfast. I had brought my swim suit with me and suddenly the idea of spending the afternoon, poolside, with a drink in hand made my muscles untense and my breathing even out. Jessica mentioned something about heading back over to Flores and I piped up with my idea. Everyone agreed.
And so we went back to Flores, and set up camp at a table poolside. I stripped down and got some much desired sun while Jessica and Jamil quizzed eachother with Spanish flip cards. Later we moved to a resturant where we could watch the sun set. All-in-all it was the most relaxing day I have had since I got to Guatemala. And it was all by accident.The bus ride back was equally miserable. Strained sleep. Aching back, knee, hips. Jarring ride. We got back to Antigua just in time for breakfast and then I crashed out until lunch.
Serindipidiously if we had not missed that bus I may have sworn off any more trips. It seems that Jamil and I are fated to have catastrophe after catastrophe when we travel. However it all worked out and this comming weekend we are planning on heading to Sumuc Champay which is another long 7-9 hour trip each way. However I´ve heard it is amazing. Not to be missed. And, after all, how often am I in Guatemala?
Should you care to see many more pictures of the Tekal ruins you can see my facebook photo albums.
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