Semuc Champey

 

Achiote (or Annato): the seeds are used for makeup and as food colouring and spice

I'm slowly catching up, but I'm still behind. Every new place I arrive at takes over with its new impressions, especially if it's beautiful, and this hotel in the jungle – albeit 'civilized' jungle - of Rio Dulce, is no exception. I've been watching the sun pick its way through the trees, wandering up and down trunks, shining through leafs of so many varied shapes, from huge fans to those shaped like elephant ears, from vines digging into trunks with claw-like tendrils to delicate veils dropping from branches. I could hear boat engines from the lanchas taking passengers from the different jungle hotels to the busy hub of Rio Dulce and back as early as five-thirty, and trucks roaring through town just as early. I'm glad our hotel is a bit removed from that.

No noise like that disturbed the peace at the GreenGo's hostel in Semuc Champay; except the music in the bar/public space in the evening there were only bird voices and the sounds of people working on the grounds.

We were slow to start the first morning – Monday of this week (it's Friday now) – not feeling the need to spool off a program since we felt we could see what there was to see in the space of two days. Many visitors only come for a day, visit the pools in Semuc Champay nature reserve and the caves, and are gone again.

It was cloudy and a fair bit cooler than it had been in the morning, but when we started out for Semuc Champay, about half a kilometre away off the road we had come on, the sun blasted down. Followed by kids wanting to sell home-made chocolate – thin discs of about ten centimetres in diametre, wrapped in tin foil -, two for five quetzales (a little less than a dollar), we paid the entrance fee at the gate and were now free to roam the park.

There are two main points of interest in Semuc Champay itself, one being the 'Mirador', the outlook, the other the river with its beautiful blue pools and cascades. We decided to hike up to the outlook first and look at the pools later. Again it had clouded over, and we hadn't climbed for more than five minutes before it started to rain lightly. It was warm enough not to be unpleasant, however and the trees shielded us from the rain somewhat, so we kept going. The climb was pretty steep, partly on a trail, partly on stairs, either cut into the rock or built of wood, and by the time we reached the top it was pouring. 

A platform afforded a nice view of the river and the pools far below. An old Maya woman with a little boy and a couple of young women had sought shelter under some big trees as well as they could, and when a bigger group of tourists arrived they spread out the oranges and bananas they had brought. They giggled when they watched the visitors posing to take selfies, and when I asked them if I could take their photo after buying bananas they readily agreed, smiling a bit self-consciously.

We completed the loop, taking the longer way down which, by now, had turned slippery with red mud wherever there weren't stairs or rock. After about half an hour we arrived at the river where the more forceful part of it had carved a tunnel from which it emerged 300m downstream. 

Part of the river, however, made its slower way down on the surface, forming quiet pools of various shades of blue and turquoise, flowing over limestone ridges. 

We balanced along the ridges and tried the water: it was not cold, but since it was still raining and the air temperature only moderately warm we decided against taking a dip. Instead we kept hiking on a trail right along the river, saw where it emerged from the tunnel and followed it a bit further until the trail turned away towards the exit of the park.

Later in the afternoon we were approached by the owner of the hostel who asked us if we enjoyed Semuc Champay and were happy with our stay. We talked for a while and asked him if it was okay to keep walking along the road in the direction opposite from town: we just wanted to get a feel for the place beyond the touristy part. Johann was especially interested in checking out the corn fields; we had watched people walking through them with backpack sprayers, and he was curious to see if they used glyphosate. “Why don't you come with me tomorrow?', he asked. 'I have a project here at the cemetery with the local people, and I need to go there in the morning.' That sounded like a great idea, much more enticing than the pools.