We were checked in by a young man who didn't know what he was doing, he tried to put us in the wrong room, and didn't give us our security bracelets. But then, none of the staff knew what they were doing, as we were never challenged as to why we weren't wearing these bracelets. More on that rather crucial point later!
When we were taken to the room the receptionist couldn't' open the door - whilst we waited a local monkey, a howler monkey I think, climbed into a tree above us and relieved himself on Gemma's bag. As soon as he finished we dived into the dangerzone to retrieve our belongings. Once we had moved them into a safer area the monkey decided to defecate on the same spot! Whilst it was lovely for the monkey to welcome us to his jungle, I did make a mental note to crap on the next monkey I see in London. In hindsight, this might have been a significant omen for what was to come, one we maybe shouldn't have ignored.
After resting for a while, and deciding that the hostel was a dive, we walked into town. Palenque is a small town, the only large buildings are the hotels in the tourist zone, in the central area nothing is above 3 stories. There are a few shops, with a fairly limited range of stock, so shopping was never going to kill any time. There is a cathedral, but I've seen bigger confessionals to be quite honest, even in the last few weeks!
We decided that night to head to the ruins the next day, and headed back to the hostel after a delicious and cheap dinner of tacos in a small restaurant frequented by locals. Back in our Spartan dorm two young men appeared. We did notice that they didn't have any bags, which seemed strange, but they had let themselves in so we didn't think too much of it. It turned out this was the owners son and his friend, who had decided to crash in some spare beds rather than return home, but we didn't find this out until later.
The following day we ignored the receptionists plea to pay 280 pesos for the ruins tour, and walked out to the street. Within minutes we were inside a taxi-van, having paid 10 pesos each for the ride to the ruins. Unfortunately it decided to rain at this point, heavily, so we got out at the site museum and spent an hour admiring the art and artefacts from the Mayan ruins.
There were a large number of reliefs, stone tablets, and hieroglyphs, and each exhibit was helpfully explained in both Spanish and English. Unlike Monte Alban, they also had pottery, jewellery, death masks and bizarre stone statues looking like a cross between a mask and a mini totem pole which were dedicated to specific Gods. The rain had proved fortuitous, and we headed out of the museum armed with some prior knowledge of the ruins we were about to see.
After passing a small guesthouse we began climbing up a flight of stone stairs into the rainforest. All around us the trees and foliage closed in, the light faded and a mist surrounded us. A few minutes later we reached a fork and took the right turn. As we reached the top of a second flight some small ruins appeared, overgrown with tree roots burying themselves into the stoneworks. We spotted another tourist scurrying off and followed him. He climbed onto another small ruin and began pointing into the bushes. We made our way up, carefully I might add as the stones were covered in moss and slippery, and arrived just in time to see a very small, black, pig-like creature darting through the undergrowth.
Now we were faced with yet another flight of stairs, much higher and steeper than the previous ones. We carefully picked a path up, and arrived short of breath, and bathed in sweat, at the foot of a large pyramid. In fact the whole site of Palenque seemed to open up before us, and it was breathtaking. Surrounded by dense jungle and mist, in incredible humidity, the ruins are just so beautiful. I did the first thing that came to mind and without considering the consequences I ran up the steps of the nearest temple.
From here the view was even better, more buildings appearing through gaps in the trees. And hardly a single tourist in sight. One of the best features of Palenque is the presence of the temples atop the pyramids, and I was also able to peek inside one which had been briefly home to a Spanish Count when he visited 200 years ago. However, getting down was a different proposition entirely, I suddenly realised how steep and slippery the stones were, my issue with heights kicked in, and had to navigate my way down with the aid of my behind!
We made our way around, stopping every few seconds as a new panorama opened up before us. The absence of tourists added to the sense that we were discovering the site afresh. We both climbed the palace building, and were rewarded with stone carvings and even a few examples of painted flowers which had somehow survived the years of humidity and rain. As we climbed the outskirts of the palace we noticed the rain clouds charging towards us, coming between a gap in the mountains, and took shelter in one of the palaces rooms, right at the top. Here we had our packed lunch, one of the greatest locations I have ever eaten a ham and cheese sandwich!
We spent about 4 hours climbing up, over and into the ruins. We were quite surprised just how close you are allowed to get to everything, being allowed inside certain passageways and tunnels of the various buildings. But like all good things, we eventually decided it was time to head back, as by this point we were both in need of a rest and a good shower! We wandered down the other path from the one we had taken, past yet more smaller, later ruins, eventually coming to a beautiful waterfall. We had to cross a small bridge and eventually met the fork we had taken earlier.
Back at the roadside, after just a few minutes we hailed another taxi-van and 10 pesos later we were back on the path near our hostel. We went to the dorm to freshen up, and met two new room-mates. A third person appeared, letting himself in and brazenly chatting to Phil, one of the Americans, and Gemma. He had a bedsheet and towel, nothing too suspicious so far, and after Gemma and I went off for dinner at the restaurant above the reception he apparently went out to get some beers. We met a couple of friends, and started chatting, not returning to the room until 11pm.
By this time everyone was asleep, so we carefully maneuvered ourselves into our mosquito nets (necessary because the window netting here is torn). The rain made it difficult to sleep, the intense shower lasting for several hours, but we did eventually drift off. When we awoke we discovered that our wallets had been emptied of cash. The culprit had taken all the notes in Gemma's wallet, and bizarrely her shower gel. Somehow this git had come under my mosquito net to get my shorts (my wallet is attached to them by chain) and removed all my cash too.
We were fortunate that it was only cash however, as all our bank cards were untouched. We spoke to the two americans, Phil mentioned that the mysterious guy had been sat outside the dorm when he went back that evening,followed him inside and promptly went to bed. Unfortunately he didn't know about the identity bracelet rule either, and as the guy had been in the room earlier had no suspicions. This stranger got up very early in the morning and disappeared, taking our cash with him,
We walked into town and found the tourist information office. They took us to the police station where we were introduced to the officers. A few minutes later a translator arrived and we began to recount the story. All of this was taken down and entered into an official report (for which we had to pay a further 400 pesos but were refused a receipt, by the police for goodness sakes). But at least the officers took it seriously enough to pay a visit to the hostel later. They seemed confident they would catch the criminal, even though perhaps the evidence was largely circumstantial. Apparently the hostel has some CCTV which may give the police an image to work with. Annoyingly I now have to spend time dealing with an insurance company, and I don't know at this stage whether we will be able to recover any of the cash or the administration cost.
The following morning we got up at the crack of dawn and waiting outside the hostel for our van to the border. Instead Fernando the guide arrived in a friend's car, and we drove around for 30 minute to find the van. It had apparently gone on ahead of us, so we moved into a different car and raced to catch up. Along the way, driving through and around the edges of the misty rainforest, we were stopped at a military checkpoint. The soldier said to Fernando that he had met Italians, Dutch, Poles and Japanese, but no English, so would we mind saying something to him in English. Putting on our best "plum" accents we gave him a chorus of "hello", "nice to meet you" and "good day old boy". He seemed impressed.
Eventually we caught up with the van at a small restaurant, where we had a breakfast of eggs and bacon, and we crammed our belongings into the small spaces available. The driver raced to the border, unconcerned about the awful, awful camber of the roads, and banging his head to the beat of some terrible disco-pop music which he thoughtfully shared with us all, loudly.
We arrived at the border a few hours later and began to panic. You may remember from our first Mexican blog, technically we were at this point illegal immigrants, having sailed through the border without a stamp or tourist card. Initially the guide tried to suggest that we needed to pay US$50 to leave the country. We nearly hit the roof, and loudly proclaimed that we had been robbed and now we were being robbed again. However, with hindsight this was actually the legitimate tourist tax, charged to people who stayed more than a few days. But at the time our protestations seemed to hit a nerve, and the guide agreed that as we had not been stamped in we didn't really need a stamp out, so we walked through immigration as if we had never even been to Mexico! We both felt that we deserved a little bit of luck, and although hardly recompense for the robbery it did at least save us some money.
From here we caught a small boat down the river. It took about 30 minutes, but it was really fun. The little wooden boat seemed to tip up at the front and the occasional eddy made us wobble, but it never felt unsafe. When we reached the small town of Bethel, we were inside Guatemala. Amazingly the connecting bus was waiting for us (I've read some horror stories on the lonely planet website), and we drove to the immigration office. Here we were greeted by a cheery border official. "Welcome to Guatemala, please, enjoy your stay" he said with a beaming smile.
After more than 2 weeks in Mexico, we were glad to be adding another stamp to our passports. The last 24 hours across the border had really dampened our enthusiasm for the country. We have had some wonderful experiences, and seen some beautiful places, and on the whole met very nice people. But as if being robbed wash't bad enough, we can't escape the feeling that people look at us and see dollar signs. And to be ripped off by the Mexican police really took the biscuit.
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