Yaxha National Park

I breakfasted with Cisco and Mike at their hotel and we made sure we had all contact details and went our separate ways. Seeing I had missed the ride to Yaxha that was my destination. First though I went to El Mirador on the other side of Lake Peten Itza where there was a beautiful view of Flores Island. 

There were 11kms of dirt road leading to Yaxha national park and once inside there was warm and humid tropical forest lining the edge of Lake Yaxha. Q80 was the entry fee regardless of whether you camped so having stocked up with a bit of food and water earlier I headed in. 

The Mayan site was extensive, and beautifully maintained by the government, and it was the first time I had come to a Mayan ruin and really felt the essence of this ancient culture. It had only been excavated in 2003 – 2008 and was a complete picture of Mayan life from ceremonial temples to domestic habitations. I was here on my own, the place was largely void of tourists and I had time to walk quietly through the 160Ha site. It is set in lush jungle with howling monkeys screaming, fighting and chasing each other in the trees overhead. The roaring of the monkeys echoed throughout the site.

I spent a couple of hours wandering around before riding the short distance to the camping area at the edge of the lake. Elevated cabanas overlooking the water were perfect as I strung up my hammock and cooked a nice camp meal of pasta. I was the only visitor but up behind the cabanas were a number of buildings and structures housing all of the workers from the park. 

The ‘Super’ full moon was still lingering and made a bright night with the sound of howling monkeys seeing off the last of the light. I think they should be called growling monkeys because they growl more than howl. It was nice to be back in the hammock with just the sounds of the jungle to fill my ears.

Yaxha is one of the sites with ruins but there are a couple of others, Nakum and Naranjo. I had seen a sign to Nakum yesterday so I packed up and headed to the turnoff. The 17km track for one vehicle wound into the jungle and through some rocky hills then onto the flats where I started to encounter some deep ruts from vehicles driving through the mud. Fortunately it was dry so it was just the ruts and a few holes I had to contend with. It was fun and Ziggy pushed her way through it with ease. 

Then the inevitable happened. I came across a deepish hole and in the split second I had to decide which side, I took the deeper side. As the front wheel was climbing out of the hole I gave a little push with the throttle and the front wheel kicked into the air at a bit of an angle caused by the lip of the hole. It landed awkwardly and I was just a bit off balance and over we went on the left hand side. I rolled away from the bike onto the dirt and grass and looked back at the still idling Ziggy on her left side. I quickly turned her off and went about planning the pick up.

I unclipped the tank bag to give me better access to push with my hip and used the technique I had been taught in my off-road course. Up she came and with a grunt (from me) and a push of the hip on the tank, Ziggy was rubber-side down again. A quick drink and straightening of mirrors, there was no damage to bike or rider so we continued on. 

The rest of the ride to Nakum was fun and much of the same with some close moments of imbalance but I arrived in one piece without another fall. 

It was good to practice my skills off-road and in reality this is easy while it’s dry and I thought it would be similar to what I would experience later in Guyana if it was dry, and nothing compared to the mud I will experience if it rains.

 Nakum is a seldom visited site. 

I was the only one there besides three workers who told me that they do 20 days on and 10 days back with their families. There had been no other visitors for a week. I had the site to myself and camped in the same type of elevated cabanas. 

These were the most impressive ruins I have seen so far. Not from their size or majesty but it showed to me the real everyday life of the Mayans. There were a lot of homes, squares and you could see where the trading and meeting took place. It seemed more everyday life than ceremonial. Having it to myself to wander around was great and I tried to picture myself 1200 years ago sitting in this same place.

They rangers told me they had been fishing in the river and invited me over for a fish soup and tortillas. We had a great talk and I really felt my Spanish coming along. They were all young guys, away from their families and not paid much. It was a very quiet evening and once again the sounds of the jungle sang me to sleep.

The workers' kitchen

 In the morning the rangers were not around the camp so I packed up and rode the 17kms back to Yaxha. Once again I had a spill during a moment of indecision as to which rut to follow.