The Maya, one of Central America's least understood and explored civilizations, experienced a golden age between the 3rd and 9th centuries, only to mysteriously collapse in the 10th. Scattered across the evergreen jungles of Mexico, Belize, Guatemala, and Honduras, the remnants of their once-great civilization continue to fascinate archaeologists, historians, and adventure-seeking travelers alike.
It’s 10 pm. After hours of monotonous flight over the Gulf of Mexico, the plane is descending and preparing for landing. The horizon is glowing with the lights of large, luxurious hotels. We are approaching Cancun, one of Mexico's largest coastal resorts. I notice a completely blank stare in the taxi driver's eyes. Basically, their English is limited to hotel names, and my request "to a camping site, please" falls on deaf ears . After a few minutes of hesitation, and a few attempts to clarify if he’s understood me correctly, we are on the way to the city center, leaving behind the hotels, McDonald's, and hordes of tipsy Americans; Gringoland, as the Mexicans call it. Early the next morning, I’m on a bus full of hungover tourists. We’re heading to Chichen Itza.
Chichen Itza is probably the most famous and well-restored archaeological site in Mexico. The reason is simple: it's located close enough to the crowded tourist resorts (unlike Palenque, for example) to become a profitable investment. This place was inhabited by the Maya until the 9th century when, for reasons unknown, it was abandoned. Repopulated in the 10th century, it was soon conquered by the Toltecs from the area of present-day Mexico City. Among the most interesting objects in Chichen Itza are; El Castillo - a 25-meter-high stone pyramid that served as a calendar, a stadium with surrounding stands and temples, and the "Platform of Venus".
I’m killing the afternoon heat lying in the shade on the well-worn grass of the stadium, staring at the numerous reliefs covering the walls of the stands. Some depict athletes playing a kind of football, others the ritual beheading of the captain of the losing team. A rather unusual (albeit effective, I suspect) way to motivate players to play more effectively.
I’m staying for a few days in Merida, the capital of the Yucatan state and its commercial and industrial center. There are a few beautiful examples of colonial architecture to see, such as the cathedral (1561-1598), or the governor's palace, but I must admit that simply wandering through the narrow streets and parks is most enjoyable. One whole day I spend at the local market, admiring the world-famous Merida hammocks and haggling over prices.
In a decrepit, old bus, I’m heading to Uxmal, another fascinating archaeological site located about a 2-hour drive from Merida. Dating from roughly the same period as Chichen Itza, it is much less explored and not as well restored. The Pyramid of the Magician and the House of the Turtles are truly impressive examples of Mayan craftsmanship. Not a lot remains of the main 32-meter pyramid.
Out of breath, I’m running to the ticket window five minutes before the departure of the night bus to Chetumal, a city located on the border with Belize. Unaware of what it meant, I’m buying a ticket for the last available seat, at the back of the bus. 6 am next morning we’ve arrived at our destination. On rubbery legs, pale as a ghost, with a headache and upset stomach, I leave the cursed bus. The last seat at the back of a Mexican bus means a bench next to the door to a toilet covered with shit and a huge speaker above your head. The stench from the toilet and the all-night, loud Mexican music almost took away my will to live. Dragging myself slowly, in the terrible heat, I cross the border bridge, where men in blue T-shirts with the inscription "Belize" are checking papers. The Belizean border guard.
In a rickety, American school bus that was living its last days in this corner of the world, I’m travelling to Belize City, the former capital of the country, ruined by a hurricane in 1961. The capital was moved to Belmopan, and Belize City became a dirty, neglected, and dangerous transit city. Tourists, mostly on their way to one of the islands of the 290-kilometer-long coral reef archipelago, one of the national parks, or possibly Guatemala, don't stay here longer than absolutely necessary. The heat, the sewage flowing through the streets, the crumbling wooden houses, the suspicious-looking types offering all kinds of drugs, the barbed wire fences around every decent-looking building, is a picture that doesn't really encourage a longer stay.
Another ancient bus is taking me to Xunantunich, the most important archaeological site in Belize, hidden among the green hills near the Guatemalan border. On one hand, the 40-meter-high El Castillo pyramid is impressive; on the other, the small scale of the excavation work and the general neglect of such a magnificent place is disappointing.
The Belizean-Guatemalan border. The sight of my Polish passport is causing a lot of consternation. Two hours are spent checking the authenticity of my visa over the phone, with who the fuck knows whom. Finally, not knowing what to do with me, they let me through the border gate.
The bus, in a state indicating imminent death, is packed to the gills. Despite the fact that the entire roof is loaded with packages, there is a huge pile of things next to the vehicle that must also be taken. Bags, boxes, cages with chickens, bundles, and even a real, live goat. After another hour of stuffing, repacking, tying, and untying, screaming, cursing, and pushing, we're off. Squeezed between a cage with two fat chickens and a bag full of some grain, I silently hope that at least some of my fellow passengers will get off in the nearby villages. Otherwise, I won't survive the journey to Flores.
Located on an island in the southern part of Lake Peten Itza, Flores is the main starting point for tourists arriving in this remote part of Guatemala to visit Tikal. Tikal National Park is 575 square kilometers of jungle with thousands of more or less preserved Mayan architectural structures scattered throughout. The heart of the park is the ruins of the city of Tikal. The remains of about 3,000 buildings are scattered over an area of 16 square kilometers.
The city's period of greatest glory began in the middle of the 3rd century when Tikal became an important Mayan cultural, religious, and commercial center. The most impressive monuments were built during the reign of King Ah-Cacau in the 8th century, when the city was inhabited by about 100,000 people. In the 10th century, Tikal fell for reasons that remain unclear. Archaeological work began in 1881 by the English archaeologist Alfred Mandslay and continues to this day, yet the city still hides many secrets, treasures, and surprises. Among the most impressive and best-restored objects are; the pyramid towering over the green roof of the jungle, almost 60 meters high, the Temple of the Jaguar (where King Ah-Cacau is buried) at the Central Plaza, the Central Acropolis, the Southern Acropolis, the Western Plaza, Temple No. 2, and the Plaza of Seven Temples. It's also worth visiting the museum located in the park.
The road connecting Flores with the Guatemalan capital is a 500-kilometer-long, largely unpaved track leading through the jungle. The driver of the bus is not bothered by the huge holes (a small car could easily fit in the bigger ones) or the protruding roots. We are racing with a breathtaking speed for these conditions. Clenching the metal railing with both hands doesn't help. Every few minutes, after another collision of the wheels with the surface, I’m flying up to the roof, banging my spine against the hard seat on the way back down. I’m staring in amazement at the guy next to me, who’s sound asleep and not disturbed by the fact that he’s banging his head against the metal bar that he’s leaning against. After more than twelve hours, covered in a thick layer of dust and exhausted to the limit, we finally arrive in Guatemala City.
Andrzej
