COBAN
The Three Musketeers split up for a bit, which seemed like an eternity, while Dartagnan (Loren) went on a solo adventure to Coban the next big little town to see how to spring board to the next wonderful sight, Semuc Champay & Languin. Before getting here he rode a 6 hour van ride with an unwelcome stomach friend kicking and screaming for having to take residence there all the time stretching it´s arms to make itself at home. I saw a curly haired European (Isreali) man on the same shuttle bus ride, but feeling excited to be alone and slightly under the weather we exchanged no words. When we got off on the outskirts of the city, immediately we were bombarded with Taxi / Hostel rides and he asked me where I was going, I told him I wasn´t sure, asked him if he wanted to go together, yes, let´s start walking cause our legs needed to breath and get some newly circulated blood before we took rest in a hostel. Finding a nice little hostel right by a mayan christian church with most of the residents a bunch of 60 to 70yr old canadians, who were travelling with a young 20 something sweet lady and they were enjoying themselves quite much. We watching traffic police in the central park area indiscriminantly pull people over to check who knows what, probably if they had proper identification and registration. Talking about our lives, the adventures we have had thus far and love and how we played with her while we were still in our respective home countries.
LANGUIN / SEMUC CHAMPAY
We decided after one day to make our way to the beautiful caves and tropical lagoon alien getaways of Semuc Champay with a quick lay over in Languin. Riding with a bunch of indigenous folks from Coban to Languin taking 2 1/2 hours in one of the most uncomfortable rides yet until we got to the tiny town of Languin up in the hills of an ancient valley isolated from the rest of the country by dirt roads and coffee tree farms galore. We wandered to the downtown and met a sweet Israeli couple whom my new found friend, Heylal, talked politics of for the soon to be elections for the next prime minister cabinet to take over in turmoil corrupt at times Israel. They told us about their adventures in the area and recommended watching the caves at night where 2 million bats come out of the small opening to fly and hunt their dinner with echo location capabilities. We ultimately decided to just go for a bit and then make our way to Semuc Champay, which a sweet LSD tripping couple in Tikal had told me to go to and I taking it as a sign that this should be my next destination for I only knew that eventually my destination would be Lago Atitlan. It was beautiful, impressive simply because it was warm, muggy, fully of amazing formations; stalagmites, stalagtites, and albino insects with metal railway hand paths to make sure none fell to a quick impaled death.
So we then after a quick flash failure trip and a freshly ripped pair of jeans from traversing the adventures depths of mama earth hopped on a pick up truck bellies full of peanut butter sandwiches along with a bunch of K´iche speaking men and proceeded to make international relations as we discussed the finer points of the Jewish Faith. They wondered in amazement as to why Jewish people don´t believe in Jesus, while my friend told me that normally they ask him why he killed Jesus de Christo. These guys were super friendly and we learned a few K´iche words and taught them a bit about our respective cultures until we arrived to Hostel Las Marias right by the river and a jungle getaway with a dock to boot. There were only a few other travellers, two girls from Santiago, Chile, a couple (Young man from De Jefe, Mexico & and a young lass from Germany) as well as some girls from South America who were not that friendly except they talked to the Chilean girls on our way out of Semuc. Heylal and I talked a bit, but everyone seemed to go to sleep pretty early and the bugs galore made it a bit more difficult to stay up especially since the generator was turned off after 10pm and whenever I read with my headlamp I tend to to get tired within half an hour.
The next day we went to Gratis Tres Marias a 7 km cave system that is almost entirely filled with water at least enough so that you are either treading the water or swimming with candle and headlamp to light the way. Drum dripping rock formations, el sombrero, waterfall rope climbs, ancient shells littering the way, some sleeping bat acquaintances, and a cool guide who wanted a bit more if we wanted to go farther then the included exploration standard for all hombre turistos. We loved Semuc Champay and were fiending for the lagoon star wars alien formation filled with crystal blue waters and brown snake slinking designs like a cookie cutter baker´s kitchen. First though we had to complete our tour by riding inner tubes down the river back to our hostel and enjoyed sandal swimming our way around trees and rock jutting out of the cold beautiful lazy drifiting along waters. When we arrived it was soo amazing, beautiful, like a picture from another world, or reminding me of the world of Naboo from Star Wars Episode I. Unable to believe my eyes I was blown away and filled with the beauty and magic of a world hidden from everyone except for the indigenous mayans and of course the tourists crazy enough to make the trek here.
A local park worker who was building a wooden railing to protect people from falling into the raging river that goes underground before the formation of the lagoons from high mountain water trickles showed us something spectacular. A raging river, powerful, enveloping and muy peligroso went roaring down underground to come out far down the river and for a second I wanted to jump in, but knew that it was a bad idea. If only I had a protected remote controlled underwater camera I would love to see what the ride is like and what kind of beautiful perfection mother river has carved over millenia in her glory and power. We swam, I went diving (Because for a second you fly, until of course you fall into the water, with much grace though, at least most of the time). I lost my fossilized wooden, madera, plug even though a little voice in my head said, ´Uh, uh, uh. You know that this is a bad idea.¨But I did it anyway and determined to find it after I borrowed Heylal´s goggles found it triumphantly and forced it back into my ear, causing a microtear and supremely pissing off my ears yet again.
On our way out we climbed, ´El Mirador´a one and a half kilometer climb nearly straight up the valley face with our Chilean sisters in tow (chronic smokers they be) and it was freakin´sweet. To see the entire lagoon system from up above with the clouds kissing the mountain valley tops and the sun setting soon over the western horizon was a gift. Breathless and not just from the climb, we sat there in awe of the power of the nature imagined by the creators of this place and took our group pictures of course with a new group of travellers to mark the moment in time. A wonderful evening of good food, drinking, wonderful artesan chocolate made by local indigenous women and the excitement to keep on trucking led us to our next destination, Antigua.
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