Utopia

Utopia is set in the jungle high above the Cahabon River. The hostel has a large timber balcony protruding into space under an iron roof. It is built from big timber, with big proportions and has big energy. 

The reception from staff is warm and welcoming and it is apparent that people that come here have put in the extra effort to reach this remote location. People I met were very relaxed, friendly and a bit alternative. It has a beautiful ambience and the sound of the flowing river perfectly enhances the uninterrupted view of the green, green mountains.

I stayed for three nights and each afternoon there was a new group of people arriving and each morning was another series of farewells. I spent my first full day chilling in this beautiful place, reading some Spanish to improve my slow progress. I met many more people and my motorcycle trip became the centre of many conversations and questions. 

In the afternoon a group of people sat and talked excitedly about the day tour they had taken to Semuc Champey, the caves, the river the pools. I met a few of them and decided that I would do the tour the next day. By 9.30 they were all fading so I could see it would be a big day. I headed to the hammock and listened to music.

 In the morning a group of us were driven to the entrance of the national park 

and started the tour walking in the caves. We waded through water that started at waist deep then through parts was up to my neck and we even had to swim part of it. The caves were pitch black apart from the candles that we had been given. We came to the end of a chamber and one by one climbed a rusty old ladder held in place by ropes. A bit of climbing, hoisting and ducking rocks later and we came into another chamber and more water.

The sound of fast running water became louder as we rounded a corner as were confronted with a three metre waterfall. 

We climbed a ladder a little further on, wading along a long wet corridor of rock and we could hear some screaming followed by cheering up ahead. We were not the only group but one of three that were in there at the same time. 

 There was an option of jumping three metres into a deep rock pool under candlelight. I’m happy to let the young ones enjoy this type of thrill, I’ll stick to more safe and mundane pursuits such as riding a motorbike around the world.

 After the jumps we followed the same path back to the entrance of the cave where everyone compared grazes and potential bruises. We walked back to the bridge that was warning us about its poor condition, 

and had the option to jump the 8 metres to the flowing river below. Sure why not. I walked to the edge and jumped straight off, not giving myself time to think about it. 

After the bridge we ate 

and rested before bundling back into the car, over the bridge to the Semuc Champey entrance. We walked into the park and were taken to the beginning of a path that went up a grueling slope to a spectacular lookout where all of the promotional shots of the pool feature are taken. 

The place is a unique geological feature of a fast flowing river from one water source upstream entering a cavern beneath a series of pools that are spring fed. 

The stream comes out again about 400 metres downstream at the end of the pools. It is not only the feature but the colour of the water that makes it look special and be so photogenic.

 Returning from the lookout we made our way to the pools where we could swim. 

We followed the guides through the six or so pools swimming in the pleasant temperature of these beautifully bright green pools. It was fun and our group was bonding and all enjoying the experience and the day together. After an hour or more we made our way back towards the entrance of the park and a group of us had pre-arranged riding large inner tubes down the river, through four or so sets of rapids, pretty tame ones but fun, and all the way back to the hostel, just over an hour’s float away. We were allocated our tubes and told the most effective way to paddle and off we went. It was a beautiful thing floating down a mountain green river through the jungle and we switched and changed small clusters of tubes and chatted as we floated serenely along.

The first set of rapids came and we were directed to the right side to avoid rocks and have an easy path through. It was fun getting caught up and wet by small eddies that form in the rapids. 

The first one was fine but on the second one I was being swept into an eddie and getting wet when I was hit from underneath by a rock. I hadn’t lifted my rear out of the tube enough and the impact was hard. The rock hit me above my backside right next to the tailbone and for a moment I thought that’s what I had hit the rock with. The impact took my breath away and I knew I was injured. I kept floating and tried to work out exactly where I had been hit. It didn’t take long to realise it had missed my tailbone but only by one centimetre. I felt relieved because smashing my coccyx would be a journey stopper for me. I wouldn’t be able to ride. The rest of the ride down the river I was cautious and in pain and didn’t enjoy it as much as I would have liked. Still it was a magnificent trip and a beautiful setting and I don’t regret it for a minute.

Semuc Champey

I have been noticing a bit of a problem with Ziggy. She has been going through engine oil at quite a rate after having not used a drop between oil changes for the last two years. When I had the service two weeks and 2000kms ago they topped up the oil and now I had to top it up again. A few times I have started her to a rattling sound in the front that goes after a couple of revs on the throttle. The recurring brake light problem was back again especially after some time on rough dirt roads. I’ve decided to go back to BMW at Guatemala City to get it looked at.

So after finding some oil and topping up half a litre, checking and finding no oil leaks, I headed towards Semuc Champey. I had been told there was a bit of gravel road to get there. Also I was keen to follow up the recommendation for Utopia, a hostel in the area. It was a fun and scenic ride into the mountains on well-maintained bitumen, winding along the side of a mountain 

until…suddenly there was a hairpin turn and a winding downhill, loose-rock and gravel road. It was ok and well maintained and wide enough for two vehicles, good for the cars and buses coming the other way.

A glimpse of the road from above.

The road wound its way down and down becoming steeper and narrower in places and finally not getting any wider after the small town of Lanquin. 

Eventually it became a crumbly single lane winding down then up with each becoming steeper than the other. Some of the downhill sections were so steep they had a pair of parallel concrete strips for car wheels. One driver in a four wheel drive started driving up the strips as I was coming down. It was gravel and a drop off to my side so I had nowhere to go off the concrete. Finally he veered off the strip to let me pass. The vehicle after him blindly followed and simply smiled at my annoyed blaring of the horn in his face.

At this stage I was too glued to the bike to stop and take photos.

After about twenty kilometres of deteriorating road and near misses with vehicles coming the other way I saw a sign for two kilometres to Semuc Champey and one to Utopia the other way. Excellent. I took the Utopia turn and incredibly the road became worse. The surface was rough and sharp stone and the ascents and descents became even steeper with sharp and blind corners. I was in first gear on the footpegs going up and down. The road narrowed and wound through some micro villages and local Mayan people were walking along the road that was lined with tall corn plants. I wondered if I had missed the turn and I was feeling that if the roads became any worse I would be past my limits. Every precipice before a descent was like looking over the edge of a cliff. Finally after a particularly loose and challenging ascent I came to a right hand turn to Utopia. The last challenge was the steep driveway. I made it. I hope it really is Utopia after that ride. Without doubt the most challenging and scary ride I have ever done.

Poptun and Coban

I left Yaxha and headed back towards Santa Elena, making a turn towards Poptun, a small railway town with a farm called Finca Ixobel. It is apparently well known and has been a halfway stop for backpackers since the 1980s. I opted for the campground and set up my hammock again. The only other people were a couple Charles and Christine who were on a two and a half year trip (so far) from Argentina heading north in a Toyota Landcruiser with a special living module built onto the back. 

They were great to talk with about countries, border crossings, attitude of authorities. The same type of conversation I have with other motorcycle travellers. They are definitely the same type of travellers, just on four wheels. They stayed two nights and I ended up staying three, spending the last day chilling by the beautiful pond/swimming hole behind the camping area. It was a stunning and peaceful spot and I could see why it has a good reputation. They provide a kitchen with a great menu including home made bread and vegetarian options. The food was delicious and plentiful, and great value. The three nights with meals cost me $50. The second night Anna from French Guiana arrived and camped in her hammock and we swapped details so I have a contact when I get there. When the others had left a young British woman travelling alone turned up and we spent quite a few hours talking life and philosophy. Good luck with the budding law practice Shahnel! Sometimes I just forget to take photos!

I had two options. Go to Semuc Champey and see why everyone was raving about this place. I had been given a tip for a great place to stay called Utopia. The other option was Rio Dulce, a beautiful river where you can take a boat to the seaside town of Livingstone. They were in two different directions so either way I would be backtracking. I decided to go to Rio Dulce first and see what it was like. It was a pleasant ride with a mixture of mountain curves and long tropical straights and it was easy to see that the coast was not too far away. When I arrived in Rio Dulce it was gridlocked with traffic and markets. It was hot and humid and the middle of the day so I decided to duck out of the main street and take another road I had seen leading to the river. This led to a small town with more shops but all of the access to the side of the river was blocked with private property. There was only one place to access the river but they wanted Q15 for parking and I was only there for a quick look. I decided that Rio Dulce wasn’t going to work for me so I took a road that led to Coban.

 It was actually a giant loop of several hundred kilometres to go right around to Coban then back to Semuc Champey and I hoped that this road that split through the middle of the loop would save me some time. Wrong. It started well with normal paved roads through small towns then there were some rocky gravel roads that became more frequent. These led to some nice stretches of concreted road surface, which in turn suddenly ended and became rutty, rocky climbs and descents into the mountains. Recent rain caused small streams and ruts and puddles across the road in places, then as the road continued, I found myself climbing on narrow rough gravel roads with a drop to my right and cars and trucks coming the other way. 

I realised that I was now on the exact type of roads that had beaten me in Copper Canyon, México. These same roads that had caused me to go back I was now finding not too bad. I was relaxed, Ziggy was handling everything well and it appeared that my riding has improved so much since the early days of the trip only a few months ago. I started to enjoy it more, realising that I was facing the fears that had stopped me before. The whole trip went for over 100kms with a good eighty on this type of rough mountainous track. The last twenty kilometres was a crazy climb through two small towns high up in the mountains, culminating with about ten kilometres of concreted road.

 I came to the turnoff south of Coban and enjoyed the winding descent on highway to the city centre. I looked around for accommodation and ended up finding a large guest house/hotel that had been operating since 1880. It had a beautiful garden, long established by the owner’s grandmother, with comfortable beds in large and well appointed rooms, including a shower with pressure AND hot water. All for $20 a night.

Sometimes I just don't get the opportunity to take photos.

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.