After the ruins, we continue our exploration to one side over nature and ourselves into the caves of Raxruha which form one of the largest mazes in the world. Dozens of miles of maze of underground rivers that form during the rainy season.
Midi we expect the bus to Flores from collective, but we were either misinformed, or we're late. Bus there is none. Next two hours. We are laying the bags in the shade and we place ourselves under the tree. A man comes to meet us and we offer a tourist minibus at a price. We thank him and we return to the shade tree for our new s a smoke. Time to finish the guy comes back and offers us a price p beaucou more reasonable. The time to mount the bags on the porch of the van and we leave for Flores, friendly little town situated on a small almost island. One hour drive in pouring rain, arriving with no address we follow a reel to a hotel protecting us from the rain as we can. The c 
hambre is not great, but for one night it will be fine, man the opportunity to sell us two tickets to Raxruha for the next day, we discuss the price and conclude the case. We're going to explore this tiny village, we need a good half hour to walk around, e t taking breaks to protect from showers. And this time gives us the opportunity to find Kalen and Jason, met our British friends on the boat to Panama, who also decided to ask for the night in Flores. C. Acun is housed appointment early evening to eat together. At night we find them and put a long time to find a restaurant , despite the smallness of the town, which is both pleasant and our prices because they are like us and are beginning to realize that the stock market travel is far from inexhaustible. Result a great night to tell our days.
The next day on the floor of the hotel we are waiting for the minibus that we should seek to take us to Raxruha. A good half-hour waiting and now the mini-bus arrives, already full of tourists. Aboard a small hello general remains unanswered. Welcome to the Western world. There is little doubt that we have not already paid the local price for this race.
All the way from behind our neighbor and his neighbor talk ... to the tune of "Oh my god" Jesus "" You know "he was missing was the slamming of chewing gum that I look back and sends the only word I know in English "Shut up". Crossing the river on a ferry , an hour later we landed at a gas station where we catch a pick-up that asks us to Raxruha. Rutted and muddy road, low houses, roofs of jail, aggressive dog. We put our business in a seedy hotel, we will eat in a diner just as bad "pollo, frijoles" accompanied by tortillas little better. Then we go in search of our caves that we struggle to be between the directions of our guide, map and directions premises. We put a little time to catch a car that wants to take us to the supposed place where we should s find the site. In the corner nobody knows. We finally turn around and walk hoping that a car passes by then, it will take a good hour before a pick-up tears us away from this track. It's 6 o'clock at night and falls as rain, luckily we are now safe. A good shower to get rid of this horrible smell of sweat with me for some months. We are clean, ready to go "dinner city." We make a round trip on the main road, we will find a restaurant diner large-format, garish light, for once no TV, just the sound of a barely audible radio. We used an old meat served with beans Ladle, sitting on our bench, elbows on the tablecloth No
us ship the meal.
The next e n curly ons our bags, talking with Taulier sitting at his TV in the corridor, we will tell our search yesterday and he told us that there are other caves, and we just have to take a small bus and we do drop height of 30 kilometers. We'll take our little cafe in the tavern of hi first day which is more attractive at night. The van drops us off at km 30, a small bungalow two young Mayan awaiting the tourist. The ticket includes the guide under 16 years who accompanies us to the cave by a trail ball ized while asking us questions about life at home and on our wages, and especially on our wages ... it makes it understand that the message has been registered and is entitled to his pourliche. We walk along a road on foot cliff in the shade of trees and after half an hour we stop sweating Ivonne. The trail descends into a huge tro u and a few meters, we find ourselves in the cool of a huge cave that envelops us with 20 meters in height. The young guide explains the role of this cave in Maya rites. We can not push us much more in the grot you in this rainy season, pity because the labyrinth stretches for several kilometers.
We return to the village, we get our business to the hotel and take a bus to Coban, where we have to make a change o p Rabinal where we should stay overnight before heading back to Chimaltenango and return Tim and Ita young couple that we had crossed a few months ago in Zanzibar.
Just before dark we arrive in the small town of Rabinal. We have to wait an hour in the bus station the rain stops. Not a little rain, but something lic bib, which transforms streets into rivers in seconds and carries into the river everything that people swinging in the streets. People with whom we met during the trip we suggest a hotel. P luie not decreasing we start looking for him. Time to find we are fully soaked. We dry it and start looking for a place to eat. A Rabinal not a tourist, not a restaurant for foreigners, and anyway we do not find a single place to eat. If there had been no good fries we found on one of the market stalls in the vain hope of finding a restaurant would have been quite embarrassed as the food that we end up finding is bad. The next day we walk quickly to the market is indeed a special day dedicated to a saint of some kind. Result procession outside the church, singing, music and dance. The four co ins instead there are musicians who play the xylophone with shelter from rain possible. Before them people come to lay flowers.
We do not hang out too much because we have a bus to take and even if there are only 100 km up Chimaltenango in this mountainous region and the path we're going to take, we're playing the card of caution. Despite this, we lack a few minutes the bus, coming tomorrow. We ask to leave the village and stop the clap. A car every ten minutes. A
e maid half hour and a pick-up tears us Rabinal. But it does not settle far, barely a dozen miles . Here we are a good hour sitting on our rock and hope that at least one car will pass before the rain starts to fall. The second will be good. Another short hop. After three hour stop, we have hardly advanced 30 terminals. We remain stuck in another village two hours to play marbles with kids history of bringing the cars. We rejoi fungi asphalt and finally a city of respectable size, with a grandpa and his old 4x4. Hence we find buses, pickup and another bus to 20 hours we finally arrived in Chimaltenango . It's raining, it got dark, the town has nothing romantic. We find a phone and call Tim and Ita asking for clarification. They give us the latest information we assemble in a Tuc Tuc which puts the final kilometers on the Panamericana through the town towards the United States to the north.
The Tuc tuc stops and we see the head of Tim who walks through the door. We arrived after traveling for 12 hours only 100 km via 11 vehicles: Pick-up bus, 4x4, sedan and a Tuc Tuc to finish.
hambre is not great, but for one night it will be fine, man the opportunity to sell us two tickets to Raxruha for the next day, we discuss the price and conclude the case. We're going to explore this tiny village, we need a good half hour to walk around, e t taking breaks to protect from showers. And this time gives us the opportunity to find Kalen and Jason, met our British friends on the boat to Panama, who also decided to ask for the night in Flores. C. Acun is housed appointment early evening to eat together. At night we find them and put a long time to find a restaurant , despite the smallness of the town, which is both pleasant and our prices because they are like us and are beginning to realize that the stock market travel is far from inexhaustible. Result a great night to tell our days. The next day on the floor of the hotel we are waiting for the minibus that we should seek to take us to Raxruha. A good half-hour waiting and now the mini-bus arrives, already full of tourists. Aboard a small hello general remains unanswered. Welcome to the Western world. There is little doubt that we have not already paid the local price for this race.
All the way from behind our neighbor and his neighbor talk ... to the tune of "Oh my god" Jesus "" You know "he was missing was the slamming of chewing gum that I look back and sends the only word I know in English "Shut up". Crossing the river on a ferry , an hour later we landed at a gas station where we catch a pick-up that asks us to Raxruha. Rutted and muddy road, low houses, roofs of jail, aggressive dog. We put our business in a seedy hotel, we will eat in a diner just as bad "pollo, frijoles" accompanied by tortillas little better. Then we go in search of our caves that we struggle to be between the directions of our guide, map and directions premises. We put a little time to catch a car that wants to take us to the supposed place where we should s find the site. In the corner nobody knows. We finally turn around and walk hoping that a car passes by then, it will take a good hour before a pick-up tears us away from this track. It's 6 o'clock at night and falls as rain, luckily we are now safe. A good shower to get rid of this horrible smell of sweat with me for some months. We are clean, ready to go "dinner city." We make a round trip on the main road, we will find a restaurant diner large-format, garish light, for once no TV, just the sound of a barely audible radio. We used an old meat served with beans Ladle, sitting on our bench, elbows on the tablecloth No
us ship the meal. The next e n curly ons our bags, talking with Taulier sitting at his TV in the corridor, we will tell our search yesterday and he told us that there are other caves, and we just have to take a small bus and we do drop height of 30 kilometers. We'll take our little cafe in the tavern of hi first day which is more attractive at night. The van drops us off at km 30, a small bungalow two young Mayan awaiting the tourist. The ticket includes the guide under 16 years who accompanies us to the cave by a trail ball ized while asking us questions about life at home and on our wages, and especially on our wages ... it makes it understand that the message has been registered and is entitled to his pourliche. We walk along a road on foot cliff in the shade of trees and after half an hour we stop sweating Ivonne. The trail descends into a huge tro u and a few meters, we find ourselves in the cool of a huge cave that envelops us with 20 meters in height. The young guide explains the role of this cave in Maya rites. We can not push us much more in the grot you in this rainy season, pity because the labyrinth stretches for several kilometers.
We return to the village, we get our business to the hotel and take a bus to Coban, where we have to make a change o p Rabinal where we should stay overnight before heading back to Chimaltenango and return Tim and Ita young couple that we had crossed a few months ago in Zanzibar.
Just before dark we arrive in the small town of Rabinal. We have to wait an hour in the bus station the rain stops. Not a little rain, but something lic bib, which transforms streets into rivers in seconds and carries into the river everything that people swinging in the streets. People with whom we met during the trip we suggest a hotel. P luie not decreasing we start looking for him. Time to find we are fully soaked. We dry it and start looking for a place to eat. A Rabinal not a tourist, not a restaurant for foreigners, and anyway we do not find a single place to eat. If there had been no good fries we found on one of the market stalls in the vain hope of finding a restaurant would have been quite embarrassed as the food that we end up finding is bad. The next day we walk quickly to the market is indeed a special day dedicated to a saint of some kind. Result procession outside the church, singing, music and dance. The four co ins instead there are musicians who play the xylophone with shelter from rain possible. Before them people come to lay flowers.
We do not hang out too much because we have a bus to take and even if there are only 100 km up Chimaltenango in this mountainous region and the path we're going to take, we're playing the card of caution. Despite this, we lack a few minutes the bus, coming tomorrow. We ask to leave the village and stop the clap. A car every ten minutes. A
e maid half hour and a pick-up tears us Rabinal. But it does not settle far, barely a dozen miles . Here we are a good hour sitting on our rock and hope that at least one car will pass before the rain starts to fall. The second will be good. Another short hop. After three hour stop, we have hardly advanced 30 terminals. We remain stuck in another village two hours to play marbles with kids history of bringing the cars. We rejoi fungi asphalt and finally a city of respectable size, with a grandpa and his old 4x4. Hence we find buses, pickup and another bus to 20 hours we finally arrived in Chimaltenango . It's raining, it got dark, the town has nothing romantic. We find a phone and call Tim and Ita asking for clarification. They give us the latest information we assemble in a Tuc Tuc which puts the final kilometers on the Panamericana through the town towards the United States to the north. The Tuc tuc stops and we see the head of Tim who walks through the door. We arrived after traveling for 12 hours only 100 km via 11 vehicles: Pick-up bus, 4x4, sedan and a Tuc Tuc to finish.
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