In and Out of the Jungle

Yesterday we pulled into Chetumal in the early afternoon. All three of us were warm and sticky and more fragrant than we cared to be. As we approached, the map had indicated some Mayan ruins very near the road we traveled, but since we saw no signs pointing us directly to Exciting Mayan Ruins and Artifacts Unlike Any You’ve Yet Seen!, the call of hotel beds, showers and flush toilets in Chetumal was much louder. We’d stayed the course.

Two days earlier, Rocinante had taken us way, way off the beaten track, through dense jungle to a compound offering what was billed as eco-camping. When we arrived we discovered a mom-and-pop-and-kids operation run by Fernando and his wife, whose name we never learned, their teen-aged son Juan Carlos, and a couple of very cute little girls, also never introduced. But there was neither electricity nor running water. The grounds comprised a couple of main buildings, one of which seemed to a kitchen, the other the family residence; a large covered, open-walled structure of purpose unknown to us; a latrine building with a men’s and women’s side, each with composting toilets, unsteady supplies of toilet paper and a sink fed by a shared bucket set into the separating wall, with a small spigot on either side and devoid of water for our entire stay; another gender-divided building described as a shower, with equivalent arrangements for water supply; a couple of bungalows for paying guests, a tent or two for guests paying less, and several clearings in the jungle for guests with tents of their own. We occupied one such clearing.

There were also two dogs: friendly, playful and very cute. We enjoyed them, while missing Bruce and Flora all the more.

And for all its off-the-grid primitivism, the place did have its charm. The tent clearings were rich with vegetative matter, providing our bones a much softer sleeping surface than the previous camp sites’ rocky soil. The jungle was beautiful. There were howler monkeys in the trees. Fascinating bird and insect noises abounded. A five-minute hike took us to a lookout tower which rose above the jungle’s canopy and afforded a view of many miles in all directions. The kitchen offered breakfast in the mornings and dinner in the evenings, and the food was delicious. For two days and nights, it was home.

One of those days we spent 50 kilometers to the south, at Calakmul. This is a large, very impressive Mayan city, with about twenty-five square kilometers of pyramids, ball-courts, labyrinthine dwellings and other structures in various degrees of ruin and restoration, apparently unused for the past 1,400 years. We all climbed the tallest of the pyramids, known to the locals as Structure #1, which also rose above the tree line, offering another magnificent view. Joe climbed several others. We all got lost and found again, scratching our heads while staring at the almost-helpful-but-not-quite maps posted about the site.

In addition to the magnificent ruins, there was more wildlife. Walking down the trail, we encountered a group a Great Curassows crossing the road single file, very cautiously as we approached. We definitely got the hairy eyeball from each of them as it crossed. At another point, a huge swarm of ants boiling across the road made it difficult to continue without committing mass formicide.

After three or fours hours of wandering and gawking, we were ready to head back down the road to the site museum, 39 kilometers away, to enjoy the cooler air and very clean bathrooms. Alas, we arrived at four, and found it had closed at three. We just continued in the van, another 50 kilometers to the tents, and the best taco dinner I’ve ever eaten.

We rose at 6:30 the next morning, struck camp, and were on the road by 8:30, warm and sticky and more fragrant than we cared to be.