Rooftops in the Jungle

Alone at Calakmul, the Mayan mega-city

Soaking wet heat, unforgiving sun, potholed roads. We remind ourselves mantra-like that we are on vacation. Looking up (never, ever looking down) we cling to the side of another massive pyramid. Each one seems to be higher, hotter, and scarier than the last one. We inch our way up steps that had to have been built for giants. Even Eric must climb on all fours, like a supplicant, up through the tree-lined levels, to the top where we find ourselves eye level with birds and monkeys as we take in a (literally) breathtaking panorama of lowland jungle. Here and there, small mountains break up the flat forest and we realize once again that these are not mountains at all but even more pyramids that have yet to be exposed. It hits us all at once: we are on top of  ancient skyscrapers looking down on a cities that once held thousands upon thousands of people.

Lynn in the serpent's mouth at Chicanna Rio Bec temple - can you see the face & teeth?

By now, at the southernmost tip of our exploration of the Yucatan Peninsula, we have seen twelve temples, twelve Mayan cities, at least twelve centuries of history. We can barely keep it all straight. Architectural styles from Peten to Rio Bec to Chene to Puuc crowd our memories. We are on a fast track history train. We say one place is stunning and another pushes it to the side. Each discovery is a piece of a story that is a whole civilization.  It is not a matter of “seeing one, seeing them all” – far from it. It is more a matter of “seeing all in the one”.  This is the Mayan world. We can feel it, touch it, and begin, though just barely, to comprehend it.

Find the wild turkey

Along the way, we’ve encountered fascinating people living in the jungle as though it were a city neighborhood, complete with wild pigs, snakes, lizards, monkeys and thousands of birds. 

Often, our urban eyes don’t allow us to see all that is there. 

Javelina crossing near Calakmul

When that happens, someone typically lends us another set of eyes. A basura (garbage) man’s wife waits for her husband outside the entrance to a ruin, and when monkeys appear, she points them out and shows Lynn how to spot them swinging from the treetops. The jungle has enfolded us in an environment that is both alien and awe-inspiring.

Looking toward Belize from our Chetumal hotel window

When we left Campeche for Chetumal, we knew we would soon be slipping off the grid of relatively easy bus connections, Internet access, and multitudes of nearby attractions. Although Chetumal itself is a relatively modern and comfortable city, it is at the bottom of a tiny strip of coastal communities that cater to tourists. A side trip to Laguna Bacalar, the lake of seven colors, was a cool respite before we returned to the jungle.

Hotel Laguna Bacalar welcomed serious alcohol consumers 

Our best tourist smiles were easy to access at Bacalar

Eric swims in the lake of seven colors

 But a few kilometers to the west, the roads turn to dirt, Spanish becomes a second language to Mayan, and massive cities are often buried right under your feet. Reluctantly, we accepted the idea that we would have to rent a car, or horses, if we were going to see anything at all. The distances from one archeological zone to another are too extensive for reasonable cab rides and way, way too far to walk to. Because the available cars were too small for Eric to drive, Lynn became the jungle chauffeur and quickly adapted to dodging potholes and an assortment of wild animals as we wound our way to the Mayan sites we wanted to see.

Quiet refuge cabana at Rio Bec Dreams

Luckily for us, we found an excellent jungle hotel, Rio Bec Dreams from which to plan our temple-climbing excursions. The owners, Rick and Diane, had even created a book that gave chapter and verse on what ruins to see and how to safely access them, including a detailed self-tour of the granddaddy ruin, Calakmul. Even better, they had a dipping pool for cooling off after excursions and a fantastic dining area complete with candlelit table and fully stocked bar. They were very thoughtful hosts, even providing a special Valentine’s Day dinner that included roses for the ladies. So, in a day, it was possible to go from gritty, dust-covered, overheated jungle misery to the lap of luxury.

Millions of bats emerge from Calakmul cave

They were so knowledgeable about the area around Calakmul. For example, they steered us to a bat cave that disgorged thousands upon thousands of bats right at sundown. The bats are harmless to humans but, even so, it is a singular experience to have hundreds of them flying within inches of your head as they swirl out of a foreboding cave and dart about devouring insects. Some of the other close by ruins, such as Balamku and Chicanna were little jewels of Mayan architectural design. The statuary at Balamku and the elaborate building entrances at Chicanna would have been worth the trip - even without the stunning colossus of Calakmul with its jaw-dropping jungle panoramas lying 60 kilometers to the east over very, very rough roads.

Eric alone and in awe at Calakmul

One of the special virtues of visiting jungle ruins so far off the beaten path is that it is not unusual to have the place to ourselves.  On the day we visited Calakmul, for example, we saw only a few tourists distributed throughout the ancient city. It adds such an element of gravitas to study these incredible structures top to bottom with only the natural sounds of the jungle in the background. Even the more visited ruin, up the road at Coba, was relatively unpopulated before the tour buses showed up later in the day. Coba, in particular, was massive (6,500 buildings at last count with about 5% of them uncovered). The best way to see all of it, we found, was to rent a rickshaw affair, pedaled by a sturdy Mayan fellow who somehow managed to provide a guided tour between gasps for air (imagine lugging Eric around on the handlebars of your bike). We felt so guilty at times that we offered to get out and walk, but he would have none of it. Thanks to his efforts, we were able to see all of Coba without succumbing to the heat.

Eric discovers strawberry and Nutella marquesitas

The days spent at Rio Bec Dreams flew away and, before we knew it, we were back in Chetumal with its vibrant city life. We spent another couple of days walking along the crocodile-infested Rio Hondo, which separates Mexico from Belize and sampling the joyous nightlife that included marquesitas (a uniquely Mexican treat) and diversions of music and impromptu street fair rides. Finally, we turned our attention to the last leg of our trip up the so-called Mayan Riviera. Stay tuned…

Paseo and fun every night in Chetumal