Viaje de Semuc Champey: dia dos=el bueno día

*Note: I was planning on adding more pictures to this post but Blogger has decided it doesn´t want to cooperate and I am tired of fighting with it, and even more tired of sitting in this internet cafe so there will be some parts sadly devoid of photographic assistance.

So as I said at the end of my last post, we woke up the next morning, with the sun streaming through the many spaces between the boards that our walls were comprised of. We were pleased to be relativly unharmed by the insect population, however, after the horrific first day I was a bit stressed about how our day at Semuc Champey would go. We had booked a tour through our hotel- but what that entailed was questionable. We were told that it left at 10:30am so we got up, had breakfast and waited around to see if a shuttle would come, and where it would take us.

The night before, after we had headed (reluctantly) to crash out in our room, another guest had arrived- a Spaniard (is that PC?) named Miguel. We chatted as we waited for the shuttle and he told us how, upon entering his room for the first time, he found a large terrantuala on his bathroom wall. I felt extra lucky that I had not been bit the night before. Or that I hadn´t woken up with a terrantuala sitting on my face.

The shuttle finally arrived around 10:40 and we had to wait as all the people on board came into the hotstle to use the bathroom. Then we all boarded the shuttle and headed to Semuc.

We got into the park no problem, and started the hike. Those who had told me about Semuc failed to mention there was an hour long assent to a view point. Instead I had been told that I just needed shoes that could get wet. So I had bought a cheap pair of converse-like shoes. Good for water- not so good for hiking. However, I had no choice but to do it and so I scaled grueling, slippery staircase after grueling, slippery staircase. I had also only brought a sling style bag I had bought in the market here. Perfect for a chill day at the river. Not good for carrying a lot of weight up a mountain. Halfway through the hike I realized a second problem with the bag- the dye was running. My palms, and the line across my body where it hung were bright yellow.

Finally we reached the view point. It was just like the pictures I had seen online- turquoise pools set in a deep valley of green. I could see people swimming and couldn´t wait to get down and do the same.

So down we went, and reached the water a half hour later. First our guide lead us to the waterfall that leads into the pools, so we could take pictures with it. Then it was lunchtime. The lunch our hostile had given us had been smashed to oblivion. In Guatemala they don´t seem to belive in anything but super white bread. So the two slices of unsubstantial white bread had become soggy with the mystery sauce, and the shreaded iceberg lettuice (because good lettuice is also a rarity) were slimy and limp. I picked out the pieces of chicken and tossed the rest. Luckily I always bring snacks and so I had a cliff bar and some nuts to satiate me.

And then finally, it was time to swim. We were all confused as our guide directed us to not bring anything but our swimsuits. However, it soon became apparent why.

Semuc Champey is made up of a series of five limestone pools that the river water flows into. Each pool is a step below the one before and so our tour consisted of swimming through each and then jumping into the next until we reached the massive waterfall at the end.

The water was the perfect temperature. Cool enough to be refreshing in the hot, humid jungle weather, but not too cool. It was clear and calm. I floated along in each pool looking up at the blue sky, and the dense jungle foiliage that framed it. Small rivuletes of water spilled over the limestone wall from the pool before and so the tranquil caucauphony was the mingling sounds of trickling water, buzzing jungle insects, and birdsongs. I could have stayed in there for hours.

However we did not have hours. Eventually, after we made it to the fifth pool and back up again we had to head back to the shuttle- we had caves to explore.

We headed back, past the stunningly blue pools, past the thundering waterfall that leads back into the churning brown river, and through lush jungle trails. Jamil, Miguel and I somehow got back long before the rest of the crew. Besides us it was mostly familys and so there was a lot of picture taking and slow trudging. We just wanted to get to the next thing.

On the way back I had my bag on my lap. A days worth of sweat, wet towles and other moisture had made the enire thing damp- and the running dye had gotten worse. When I got out of the van my entire front and side were tinged with yellow- and a large yellow stain had appeared on the seat I sat on. Ooops.

By the time we reached the caves it had begun to rain. I put on my headlamp and pulled my wet, muddy fake converse back on- grimmacing as the sand inside rubbed against the blisters that were the inevitable consequence of hiking in new, cheap footwear. However, walking through caves in flip-flops seemed like a poor life choice so I cowgirled up and limped towards the caves.

Inside the caves was hot and humid. Massive textured ceilings dripped down into towering formations. There were formations with specific names- the skull, the eagle, the curtain, the elephant- because of their uncanny respemblance. There was a mayan alter- formerly used for human sacficice- that was tinged black from years of smoke from offerings of burning alcohol, oil and herbs.

The ground was incredibly slippery and Jamil and I struggled to stay upright. Finally, on the way back, I lost that battle and while standing still, adjusting my headlamp, my feet slid forward and I landed square on my bottom in what I can only assume is several centuries of guano mixed with mud. Yummy.

Tired and dirty we headed back to the hostile. This time it was full and so after a shower I hung out in the dining area with Jamil, Miguel, a woman named Sandy from Oregon we had met on the tour and a cool dog named Supe who I would have kidnapped and brought back to the states if I thought I could make it through customs.

At 10 or 11 Jamil had passed out in the hammock and I figured it was time to head to bed.

The second night was not so scary- perhaps because the day had gone so well, or because I had survived the night before. I tucked my sheet around me a little less tightly, and fell asleep much more quickly. It was yet to be seen if we would make it onto the shuttle the next morning- considering our luck it was still possible this trip could end disasteriously- but at that moment I was very happy we had come to Semuc Champey.

The next morning we left the hostile early, had breakfast at El Ritero, and after an anxious half hour or so managed to connect with our shuttle. When we made it back to Antigua, around 3 that afternoon I felt that we had finally, for the most part, had a successful trip.