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| Palenque |
4 AM. This is the time we get up as today's tour incorporates several far-flung locations and a transfer to Palenque, a town 200+ kms to the north. The bus ride starts quietly. Our driver is once again Eduardo, who whistles cheerfully as he picks up each set of tourists from their hotels in San Cristobal.
The roads that lead north are less like highways and more like simple two-way roads that snake their way into an endless series of mountains. Eduardo does more of his daring blind-corner overtaking, even veering into oncoming traffic at one point to pass two huge first-class buses. The heavy rain and regular speed bumps set into the road nearly every 100 metres keep his speed down though. He turns his chirpy, tropical-sounding Marimba music up higher as the sun rises, continuing to whistle and tap his steering wheel despite the ongoing downpour.
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| Now entering Zapatista country. At one point a zapatista wearing the balaclava just stood on the side of the road as we drove past, his rifle held up against his shoulder. |
These mountains are Zapatista country, derelict-looking houses have huge murals painted on the side, depicting Zapatistas painted on their cracked outer plaster. The constant rain is fitting for the environment, a dense and seemingly endless jungle interspersed with communities too spread out to even be classified as towns. We pass secluded coffee and cocoa plantations. There are also many banana trees and stray dogs. One dog comically chases a chicken across the road in front of us. Another ten dogs are seen roaming the roadside in a pack.
As the minibus thrusts further into the mountain jungle the road becomes more dangerous. Boulders occasionally litter the path, and we pass at least five sections where large parts of the road (about one whole lane) have fallen away due to landslides. We also slow down to pass through an army checkpoint where 10-15 soldiers armed with heavy weaponry eye us with casual dispassion. It's funny to think that two weeks ago I was shocked by the presence of a border patrol in southern California yet here in Mexico I have become somewhat desensitised to the baleful presence of such men with weapons.
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| Army check point. Note the requisite cracks in the window. |
Around 10:00 AM we reach our first destination, Azur del Agua. These rainforest waterfalls are large cascades, made somewhat terrifying by the current rain. Their roar is overriding, the cobbled walkways alongside them flushed and muddy. The option to swim becomes muted as we stand at the edge and watch vast torrents sweeping over the top of the cascades, the water a dirty brown with the refuse of the forest.
In typical Mexican fashion, nothing is done to restrict our entry to the falls in these weather conditions. My shoes slowly fill with the river, my socks soak, the peak of my hat drips water onto my face, and every part of me eventually becomes damp while observing these falls in the rain. None of the nearby local vendors seem to care as we walk out onto a shaky wooden bridge that takes us across the cascades to the other side. I'm a lot less keen to walk on it than the Duck.
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| I couldn't get this far onto the walkway. The Duck is much less fearless. |
About an hour later we reach our next destination, the waterfall at Miso-Ha. This is even more spectacular than Agua Azul... local postcards depict it as a long trickle over a high clifftop into a lake but today it is a huge vortex of noise. A trip down to the lake to look up at it from the bottom sees both myself and the Duck drenched completely with spray. Normally you can walk behind the waterfall but today's weather means that such a thing is not the peaceful option it usually is. We decline it.
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| That's me in the bottom right hand corner. Another great photo courtesy of the Duck, as are most of these pics. |
The Duck and I take a break for lunch and chat with a young Mexican couple from Mexico City. The guy is eager to practise his English so we swap a few basic stories about travel and bond over the craziness of Mexican road rules (they both laugh hysterically at our disbelief regarding local driving practices). Once I'm back on the bus I decide I've had enough of my wet shoes and socks. I drape my socks over one leg but become impatient, deciding that if I put one sock over each hand I'll be able to fan them out by stretching my fingers. And you know what? It sort of works. It's a pointless exercise however, as our next destination destroys my socks completely.
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| Avalanche damage. |
But before we get to the Palenque Maya ruins I'd like to address something. Over the last few days (today included) I've written about the quirks of Mexican driving and how ridiculous it is. Well, as we travelled from Miso-Ha to Palenque, our minibus had to slow down due to an accident on a bend in the road. A small car has flipped over right onto its roof off the edge of the road. About five people are lined up alongside it, and a solitary burning candle sits inside it. It's hard to tell how recent the accident has been but we pass an ambulance shortly afterwards. What's most shocking though is how little everyone in the minivan pays attention to it. Our driver seems unaffected, continuing to recklessly overtake trucks on bending roads, and there's no discussion. It's like they would all rather pretend it never happened just so they can continue enjoying the fruits of dangerous driving.
As our drive continues we pass taxi-cabs built onto the backs of bicycles (sort of like a rickshaw) and an angry looking guy on the side of the road with a massive machete. We chat with a fellow passenger, a Mexican photojournalist/correspondent named Alejandro. He's also an election official and is travelling into the jungle to photograph the Zapatistas. He tells us about the Mexican tendency to add the suffix 'ita' to most words, which basically is a way to cutify something by making it sound smaller and more feminine. He tells us that one of the most common Mexican names is 'Lupita', which is really a diminutive of Guadalupe with the 'ita' added onto the end of it.
Anyway, the ruins at Palenque are my favourite archaeological site on this trip so far. It's a Maya citadel situated right in the depths of the rainforest, each landing overgrown with lushly verdant green grass, vines, palms, etc. Our socks and shoes get soaked through with thick mud but it doesn't matter because when I step inside a Maya tomb and see the water dripping down the walls with an atmospheric echo it feels just perfect. The architecture here, in comparison to other Mesoamerican ruins we've seen so far, is finer and more detailed. There are towers, and staircases, and life-sized bas-reliefs of warriors, and temples and plazas. We have two hours to look around but it's not enough.
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| Some of the dips in the ground form a natural ampitheatre. Elton John played here once. |
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| Note the rabbit skull - this alludes to the Maya Moon Goddess. |
Our hotel in Palenque is nice but the Duck finds it a bit too sterile. The other guests seem to be mostly American and Australian seniors, loudly complaining that the wine they had yesterday isn't still available today.
