Guatemala to Belize

We spent a further 3 nights in Flores living a comfortable life, catching up on a few chores, enjoying warm showers and the variety of food on offer. We stayed in a small hotel overlooking the lake and we both enjoyed not having much to do. We took our clothes to the laundrette, Gemma apologised to the owner (the combination of human sweat and animal faeces gives off a remarkably pungent aroma). 

We decided eventually to take a tour to the Mayan site of Tikal, given it's proximity and the glowing reviews others had given us. Booking a van to the site was simple enough, there are several "travel agents" on the island (they all seem to double up, some are also internet cafes, others gift shops, one is even a pharmacy). However we decided against the 4.30am tour, we had been warned that you can't actually see the sunrise because of the mist.

Instead we caught the van at 8am and made our way to Tikal. It takes a little over an hour from Flores, the route taking you past several military installations. The small villages with wooden abodes seem a far way from the stone built sanctuary of Flores, but even then it still feels secure. Which makes you wonder why so many security guards here carry guns - and not little ones, the pump action shot-gun seems to be the weapon of choice, inevitably looking shiny, new, well cared for. Actually, I'd rather not know why they carry them - ignorance is bliss.

The bus eventually reached the park entrance gate, the guide tried to take our entrances fee but we refused. One of the many things we have learnt is to pay your entrance fees yourselves, there is no reason for your guide to take it, and by paying yourselves and receiving your own ticket you can be sure that the money is actually going to the right place. That said, Tikal was the most expensive sight we had visited so far, 150 Quetzals (about £12) just for the entrance fee. Compared to Palenque (about £2.50) we were expecting the temples to have bells and whistles on.

In one sense we weren't disappointed. What Dietmar (the German who gave us the free slide-show a week back) had said proved correct. Tikal was by far the most "monumental" site we had seen so far, but Palenque more beautiful. Accompanied by Brandon and Katy, an American couple who kindly shared their map with us, we walked for about 30 minutes to temple 4, which towers 70 metres above the surrounding plaza. Unlike Palenque you cannot climb the stones themselves, instead using a flight of wooden stairs to make your way up.


As you ascend the stairs you become conscious of nearing, and then passing above the tops of the trees, and by the time you reach the end of the stairs and move onto the temple proper the view stretches out for miles in front of you. From here you can make out the tops of the other major temples at Tikal and it gives you a clearer idea of just how big a site Tikal is. That said it took all four of us a few minutes to get our breath back, have a drink of water and a snack before we could reach for our cameras. But the view is well worth the small effort involved.

After sitting atop the temple for twenty minutes we climbed down and began to work our way around the other sites. As we walked we chatted with Brandon and Katy, who seemed to be the American version of us (met it the same way; around the same time; similar jobs; even down to the same favourite tv shows). I impressed Brandon with my knowledge of American football - he was a Green Bay fan, and couldn't believe I owned a Packers shirt.

As we chatted and laughed our way through the forest trails a German tour group decided to stand right next to us, and then shush us in the most rude manner. I was pretty staggered by this, not only had they decided to come over to where we were standing, but they shushed us like naughty children, complete -with fingers over mouths. We weren't even being that loud. Eurosceptics will be pleased to read that I told them to "go fornicate elsewhere".

We moved on to the next temple, and Brandon and I did what all men (boys) do best, we ran straight up it. It wasn't the highest temple, and the sides hadn't been cleared of overgrown plants, but we spotted several erect tails bobbing above the grass. Initially we assumed they belonged to spider monkeys which had come down to the ground, but in fact these tails belonged to a little raccoon-like creature. As our eyes became accustomed to the darkness we realised there were actually about a hundred tails, all heading down the hillside, so we followed them down for some photos. They didn't seemed to mind us at all, and several of them came within 3 feet of us.

After amusing ourselves with the animals, we made our way to the lost world and the grand plaza, just in time for the sun to come out from behind a cloud and threaten to burn us to a crisp. There wasn't much shade to be had, but after climbing past huge carved face on the side of a smaller temple we were able to shelter at the rear and finished off the last of our water whilst we watched some spider monkeys swing through the trees around us.

Back at the entrance we toyed with the idea of going inside the museum, but there was a separate charge (at Palenque it had been included). We peeked through the windows, the results were fairly unimpressive. As a comparison, if you wanted to visit a Mayan site, I would definitely recommend Palenque above Tikal. The latter certainly has the larger temples, but at a cost. The site is crawling with tourists, is expensive, the museum is tiny and not well explained, and Palenque is by far the more photogenic site. Just be careful not to get robbed there.

We returned to Flores and tried to locate a working cash machine. Both ATM's on the island refused to function, so we decided to head to the mainland. Before we set off the heavens opened so we dived into the nearest cafe for lunch, before catching a tuk-tuk across the causeway to Santa Elena. The ride was fun and cheap, and the driver to us to a large shopping mall opposite the airport. We found a cashpoint, withdrew enough to cover our remaining time in Guatemala, and had a look around. Bizarrely we discovered Father Christmas in conversation with a Real Madrid fan, I heard the name "Michael Owen" three times!

The following morning we set off on the 5am bus to Belize. In the morning darkness we boarded and were surprised by how busy the bus was, and how tiny. The seats were clearly designed for midgets, and we rode the 2 hours to the border squashed in, with our knees up by our ears! Just before the border we stopped, and nearly everyone got off, leaving ourselves, two German girls and an Argentine couple. Unfortunately the latter pair hadn't checked the visa requirements, and needed both passport photos and a visa.

We checked out of Guatemala with the German girls in tow, walked across the border and entered Belize. It was pretty amazing to hear English spoken again, when we were welcomed by the border control guards. We had our passports stamped and began the waiting game - the driver had decided to give the couple 30 minutes to complete visa formalities, so we changed a little cash into Belizean Dollars (Dollars - with the Queens head on) and walked to a roadside cafe for a drink. Fortunately they made it, a credit to the US embassy who received a used application from the border, processed it and replied by fax within that short the frame.

The drive to Belize City took a further 2 hours, during which time we began to spread out and then fell asleep. By 11am we reached the port, and the porters, waiting like hawks, grabbed our bags and took them the 12 steps to the baggage handling area. We bought our boat tickets and before long we were on board a small, rusty old vessel which didn't much cut through the waves as smash into them. A few of the passengers looked a bit rough, but hardy old sea dogs that we are, we didn't feel a thing. 

The boat navigated it's way between small Cayes and the occasional mangrove forest as the sun beat down upon those foolish souls who had sat outside. After 45 minutes we turned sharply and the island of Caye Caulker appeared before us, looking magical in the sunlight. We hopped off the boat before it continued on to San Pedro and waited on the beach for our bags. When they arrived we treated ourselves to a golf buggy ride to the hotel - which was vastly overpriced but pretty fun all the same. 

The contrast between Belize and Guatemala is pretty staggering, the culture here is far more Cariibbean, and it is taking some time to get used to not saying "gracias" or "por favore" to people. The island is covered with palm trees and rustic wooden beach shacks, painted in bright - but faded - colours. The people are obviously different too, a mix of black African descendants and the more casual American who has moved abroad. And I could almost believe Bob MArley is still alive from the number of times I've heard his familiar voice fill the air.

We decided to treat ourselves to a nice hotel, so we are staying at the imaginatively named "Da Real Macaw", with cable tv, a fridge and air conditioning - and it is well worth the money. The hammocks outside each room alone are good value (more for the entertainment of watching me get in and out). We're enjoying living the beach life and eating fresh seafood every day, the lobster in particular is excellent, fresh and cheap (compared to home).

From here we will head back to Guatemala, probably to Antigua, but for now we have checked in for an extra night at the beach. Gemma has gone snorkeling today, whilst I will be wasting my life away in a comfy hammock - just as soon as I finish making the insurance claim down at the internet cafe, and try to convince o2 that I did indeed cancel my phone contract in August, and work out how to fix Gemma's camera. 

The work never stops, even in paradise.