There comes a time when you take in breaths so deep, trying to lower the beating heart from your throat. There also comes a time when your position of safety in life had never tasted so sweet. This is travelling.
Part 1. Adios Barra, hello alien buildings
Departing from Barra was like leaving a relationship. I loved it and all the good times we shared but I knew it was time to move on. So as we tooted our goodbyes, and bumped our way out of the rain rivited dirt road onto the Mex 200, smiles settled onto our surfed out faces...
The checklist for the next few days ran something like... Eat some fantastic food, listen to some beats, see some alien buildings (Palenque), and get to the boarder. We would traverse this check list as fast as possible, but with the air of relaxed travellers just meandering about the land.
Arrival to San Cristobal (An 8 hour drive straight) was one clouded by intense hunger. Once we had haphazardly settled into our hotel, we made our way onto the streets, lonely planet held open in the fading light to find a restaurant - quick! After a walk back and forth over a few blocks looking for a particular restaurant, pace increasing with the hunger pains (which gave our relaxed traveller meander a rather ´intense´ vibe), we decided to just rock into the very unmexican lebanese joint... Oh the joy of falafel wraps after countless weeks of Tlayudas. That glorious meal paired with a glass of vino tinto and I was one happy lady.
After a broken sleep over a main street, we arose early to search out some answers. Short road to Palenque (5 hours) was rumored to be dangerous, robberies and hold ups ´common´. After we asked a few people and only got laughs in answer, we deemed said road to be do-able. I can tell you that our experience on that road was in no way dangerous in terms of banditos, but after the thousanth tope that marked that road, sent my head toward the roof for a thousanth time, I was ready to kill someone myself. Luckily, our arrrival in Palenque was so incredible that I forgot all about those topes (well at least untill the return).
In a beautiful jungle setting we chucked our stuff into a room at El Janguar and searched for some food. As we sat at a restaurant at 4 in the afternoon, a lightening storm raged around us, and we found much delight in observing tourists navigate their way over a swollen creek. An afternoon meal soon turned into an evening of live music. Making our way home a few hours later than anticipated, a feeling of excitement at finally seeing Palenque swirled round my body with the red wine.
Palenque is meant to be the most beautiful Mayan ruins of mexico and I wasn´t dissappointed. We were first in at least an hour before the tour groups (one of the great reasons for having a car) and I clambered and marvelled over these century old buildings, all alone like an old explorer. Maybe more incredible than the ruins was the jungle that surrounded it. Backing the ruins was a huge moutain wall that enloped it from the sides. But peering through the vines from the front of the city, land spread out before it hundreds of meters below... As I walked around, rather over whelmed, it was an incredible feeling to think that not even thousands of years ago could they have done what I was in their own city. Not even the kings and queens could have marvelled at their thorougly impressive sorrounds in only their own presence.
Part 2. San Cristobal loves us, we love it back
Once we had made our way through the jungle ruins, had sweated much too much (or emitted `love scent´as jake likes to call it), we decided to depart back to San Cristobal. After a return trip that I would rather not dwell on, we arrived in San Cristobal much in similar fashion to our previous arrival. Freashly showered and with the calm of a Palenque visit still alive in the air around our heads, we set out for a much loved indian restaurant. Oh my goodness some of the best food I have ever had. When the food here is good it is really good. And the bad food is really bad. So with an amazing Indian curry in our bellies we set out into the early evening light. After strolling for a while we stubbled across a live music joint, and for the next few hours, were dazzled by a local band. A group comprising of flute, viola, bongo drums, bass, and a guitarist with an erriey voice, danced their obscure way through some amazing tunes whilst I sat back and enjoyed a fantastic hot chocolate. Went to sleep that night with a joyous feeling of exhaustion drawing me down down down...
The next day we wandered the streets, ate food, present needs were satisfied in the markets, and local yarns had. Once we settled in for dinner at a wine bar, smiles were already well plastered on our faces... and the great bottle(s) of red and great food did nothing but set them in stone for the rest of the evening. Looking for live music we found a bar without it... and proceeded to get to know all the locals in there, as the father, and his daughter (who owns the bar) were seated next to us. Unfortunately our blue sky minds were transformed into red wine minds and change of outfit number one* was in order after jess tipped a full glass of red in my lap. I followed suit soon after, and with a conversational flick of the hand, I sent a glass smashing to the floor - to the applause of a full bar. How embarrassing. The next few hours unfolded in great fashion and we ended up dancing into the wee hours of the morning with our new found friends somewhere in San Cristobal...
Part 3. Rocky Horror Picture Show
The next morning we decided it was a good idea to leave on a high and make out way to Guatemala. So filling ourselves with the most amazing bagels on the planet we made our way to Tapachula, the border town. After leaving San Cristobal on such a high we arrived to the biggest shit hole I have ever been in. Our need for a cheap place, and a starved hunger taking over our minds, we chucked our stuff into a feastery room and went in search of some food. Once I had pushed the food around my plate (delivered by a man with the undying need to cough into his hands every 5 seconds), I swollowed my ´on a budget´ pride and suggested we spend the $12 instead of $6 and get a better room. By better, I mean one that didnt have undescribeable stains soaking the walls, highlighted by the helogen lights flickering for lack of a window. Or a rotten plastic curtain separating the room from the mould infested scummy bathroom. With a collective sigh of relief at someone having put the crazy suggestion out there, we dragged our weary feet through the dirty streets... and high tailed it out of that room to the cackle of the fat ladies who couldnt move out of their seats and the seedy little man scratching his bare belly with his 20 year grown finger nails. Chainsaw Massacre mexican style anyone?
Awaking, we took our weary selves and made our way to the border. After driving for over an hour we were told we had to go back and then some to cancel my car permit, before crossing the boarder. This was whilst the angry stare of 4 guys on motor cycles followed us around trying to ´help´us. Their toots, revving engines and intimidating stares really did nothing for me, and on our return trip I was very eager to avoid them. Car permit cancelled and time ticking down, we were just returning through Tapachula when Muddy Jandal Jessie had the amazing mind revelation... In our haste to escape the room of horror, she has left her camera under the pillow at fester motel... A 45 min detour later, camera in hand, we were back on track for the border.
Unfortunately on our return, another biker grabbed our attention and proceeded to tell me I needed his help and it would cost so much. More unfortunately, the truth is my broken down mind did, and so I enlisted his help. We drove back and forth, paying this and paying that in the heat beating down on us. When we finally got to the Guatemala side, I was told my car papers werent right but for the right fee they could be... oh dear. So another detour and some more computer tapping later, we were back in line. Finally after the officals had stopped eating this, or chatting about that, they decided we were right to go and we set off, new Guatemala Car Permitt sticker gleeming in the afternoon light.
We had a 5 hour drive in front of us and about 6 hours of light. So when 5 hours into the drive we realised we had missed a major turn off, my heart began to rise into my throat. With the light dimming, and the drizzle hardening on our windscreen we pulled onto the side of the road and enlisted the help of the flashing lights of the Guatemala Police. Fortunately Jake didnt get taken into custody... unfortunately their smiles and broken spanish were looking rather thin when 20 mins later we were still no where where we wanted to be. With my heart solidly in my throat and darkness approaching at a rapid pace, I lurched between the feeling of throwing up and the absolute desire to break down in tears. A petrol station rose like a beacon out of the cloud covered dirt of the derelict buildings linging the highway. Armed with shakey new directions, we took a leap. And as we rose above the grey buildings stretching out as far as I could see, into the mountains, a little feeling called hope creeped in. No more than 20 minutes later and not 5 minutes before darkness, Antigua´s streets came upon us, and before we could register we were there, we were rumblings down it´s beautiful cobbled streets.
*For my need for Outift Change 2 you will need to ask Jess. That is her story and well worth hearing... but not mine to tell...
