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286-287 J / Los peons

Chimaltenango mid-morning, we board the car Tim. We take the road to Las Escobas, the village where his parents took him on holiday every year when he was a child. They were leaving for a month with their motorhome in Canada so far. This is one reason which prompted him to install an English language school. In this village he feels at home and admitted he also wanted to help these people help themselves. English is a springboard for the children of this country from the United States, where they can try four nd they will be a little more great to find a job. Even if the pay is not huge it will still much more than here, and they may send a game to help their families back home. A quick break in u No internet cafe, we welcome one of his buddies and we're on the road. An early slightly tarred road that does not pose much problem with the car lowered and cut sport Tim. It reached the first village that we abandon the stage for the Tar eave up the stones and mud. We choppons some appetite suppressants and we leave. No time to linger, Tim must be early afternoon in her classroom to give a course. From now we feel that the car is not at all suited to the country. It patina hangs all the pebbles with his rocker, lack of being stuck several times. Of course we do more than regular pickups ageless. Reached the village we go to the classroom. A sign announces its course. The building is not completed yet must go on boards to avoid the mud, a limit e torch to enter the room that is the only o ù first cladding has been applied this does not prevent water penetration. His three stu ves arrive, we leave for an hour and we leave p Romen in the village. At our return we take the car to visit a Mayan site: Mixco Viejo. Time to make the road we arrive at the site entrance which closes its doors. Tim in a Latin American English impeccable slide two or three well-chosen words and the guard let us go for an hour any more. The desert site is located atop a mountain. with a view to a thousand miles around. On one side of the cliffs and the other a steep slope well, a perfect place to build a city free cities neighbors. The sun is with us. In the distance we hear the rumbling thunder and see lightning rip the sky surrounding valleys. The city is like other cities that no us have seen far, the district s temple, the golf balls and a few remains of houses. After an hour's walk to the site to ourselves, we return to the exit where we expect the guardian to whom we drop a few bills passed. We understand without having requested it expected no less from us. The storm is approaching, time to reach the village we begin to feel the taste moisture that permeates the air. Tim Parks, we take our belongings and headed towards home, and we spend a portal vo ila in the yard of a shack. Three ladies are sitting there gossiping while their embroidery. Tim shows us and tells us it is our shelter for the night. Classic house: concrete block wall and tin roof. Here he rents his room for the nights he spends in the village. We leave right away in the village because Tim is looking for a contact so that tomorrow we can visit a cafetal (coffee plantation). His first plan falls through, the guy at q ui it thought ask is not here today, he went to the city. In talking with two or three people he finally found someone who could help us. We arrive at a meeting of farmers who enlarge the circle so that we can install. Laetitia presents and explains our project. Everyone seems happy, we go the next six o'clock in the morning with one of the farmers who intends to show us a plantation. Here life begins much earlier than in France, where it is increasingly difficult to open a coffee shop before seven o'clock in the morning. Meanwhile the first person I contacted Tim had returned and comes to meet us and seems very disappointed we have missed. We say we'll come visit his farm just after meeting the other cafetero surtou t it is on the way back to Chimaltenango. Her frown turns into a big smile under his cowboy hat, we shake hands and say tomorrow.

The smell of rain that pervaded the air is transformed within seconds into a rainstorm, we return to our room quickly and we want to laugh ab temp s that come the time to eat. Meanwhile the children are returned home from school. Tim will look after them, the play, during which time the mother took the opportunity to show its Laetitia embroidery and offer him one, this is not the most beautiful crafts, but as saying goes, it's the thought that counts. Hunger made its way, the rain it does not go away. We equip umbrellas and head towards the village's only restaurant and command the only dish of the day with the only drink they serve: hamburger and Coke. Tim leaves to get tacos and beers. The brand will make a very good meal. After the dinner very gourmet Tim takes us to the village school with which he has participated in a "pedagogical" in his training in order to teach English in Guatemala, then takes us to a family a little far from the village. Funny atmosphere. A mother with four children living in one room of the village wants a guy to leave them. The TV is on. Tim will pick up the phone, we exchanged a few words with the mother, we show him a picture of a boy on the wall. "My son, he sent me a photo of Nueva York." Quickly exhausted and the conversation resumed its television rights. Tim does not return. We allo ns smoking a cigarette outside. We're back. Tim not. Embarrassed silence. Tim comes back, we leave. On the way back, he explains the history of this family: a mother without a husband, four children with four different fathers. The largest is the U.S. where it hell to work, he can not even send some money to help his mother raise his sister.
Ten hours the rain stopped, the night is dark, we are in our room. Tomorrow standing 5.30am. The day was born busy quelq ues phrases that are lost in the night, we fall asleep. The alarm rings it is already time. Outside the sun extends his arm the valley, a few more minutes and we will see appear in person at the top of the ridge. To Ilette rapid large cement tank that contains water at all times for washing, bathing and all water needs of the house. At six o'clock we go near a grocery store, we go there a bit before to pick our coffee. At the scheduled time a large 4x4 Toyota comes up with our guys. We sailed in all the tér Sieur, and we're off to a place called "Cocoa" funny name for a coffee plantation. With that car traffic on stony track is much easier than the urban small car Tim, we'll potholes, rocks, ruts, as if they did not even exist. A few minutes later we stop in a village where our guide discusses a few minutes with other farmers. They spend a few sub biftons hands, apparently that's the cooperative. I take some pictures of these cafeteros then we go back by car to get a little further down the valley. Along the way our man tells us that most local farmers were able to acquire land to grow coffee with an economic plan organized by an NGO wanted to help farmers grow coffee and to learn the trade. There were no plots to everyone, so in fairness, the NGO organized a lottery with all those who support HAITAI ent participate. Since the association is a party, farmers fared a little better but it still is not comfortable. In talking we realize that our man does not know the difference between arabica and robusta, he does not know the principle of fair trade. For he knows well against the coyotes who come to buy his coffee, the price of misery, even before it is harvested and are ready to leave the farmer on the spot if it does not sell the goods and leave with their truck when the whole direction Antigua coffee from the region is processed. We ask him why they were not organized themselves to send coffee to Antigua and do not create a small cooperative to share the costs. The suggestion seemed interesting ... With these good words we leave for the village and we leave a little note for the time he gave us and for future cooperative! We have not learned much about coffee, but much later on how some take advantage of these poor peasants and their lack of means. Back in the car of Tim, the atmosphere is not the same we immediately feel much closer to the earth forces. At times it would almost seem to be dragged behind a horse tied to a rope as the shock of rocks known r the rocker may be violent. Tim is proposing to take us to the village half way to meet the second cafetero. Perfect. The other guy is a little more serious than the first, it began operating very recently, only 5 years, but he is very proud and worked hard. It is curious to know what is coffee and of what we saw on our trip, we even wonder if we would not be agricultural engineers. When we tell him stories of the purchase price of the coffee and coyotes, we confess that our man probably somewhat exaggerated the situation and that today's prices are slightly higher. I see starting at the foot of his coffee that there are some berries lying around, I say in passing that our specialist Rafael Colombia had informed us that this is not very good. Either I missed it in tact or is unlikely, but it seems to me that upset and usually nothing troll foot trees. R bees smile back and we part pleased with this meeting. Tim we take the direction of the city. On the marketplace still murky in this season we park the car, we descend and engulf input e the stands in search of a tavern to calm our growing hunger before the rain arrives. We order national dish: pollo, frijoles and potatoes: the flat is not up to our hunger, it's just bad. Tim bought some fruit at the market and accompanies us to our bus. We say goodbye and thank him for everything. He also thanked us because he has learned a lot about coffee and met with people he did not know the village. We sit in our bus and expect it to be full-go. In Chimaltenango we find Ita spend another day or two with it before continuing our journey.
We arrive early afternoon in Chimaltenango and we pay the internet cafe until that IT is returned home. Unfortunately there is a general power failure throughout Guatemala, estimated duration between one and four hours. We take this opportunity to walk around the city. We visit a great supermarket, to appreciate the best we approach it as a contemporary art exhibition. At least the museum is free and keeps us safe from the rain. After this wonderful e xposition we go to the market where the atmosphere is much more fun despite the lack of lighting. We return to the internet cafe and find Julio's friend Tim, who invites us to come and drink coffee until the electricity comes back. We walk through the backyard, then in the family room where he presents his family, everyone here lives under the same roof of the great-grand-mother to son. In talking we learn that he is the manager of the shop, it's a traveler during a long, he lived in the United States, that the blackout was nothing exceptional and the Government working with Mexico to lay new lines to avoid such problems in the years to come. Time is running power is restored and we connect Ita call to offer him to join us when she has finished its job and we find a nice little restaurant for our last night is that we invite. To twenty hours, she arrives with friends, we went to the restaurant of their choice ... MacDonalds. It was a long time since we were not out with friends in a fast-food restaurant.

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283-286 J / No smoke without fire

Wake in house Ita and Tim at the bottom of a small unpaved dead end of Chimaltenango. Flat-roofed house that probably awaits an additional floor, iron rods sticking out of walls of concrete block uncoated, shower at the back of the court, Laetitia can finally take a shower with hot water. A typical house in the region, country and undoubtedly the continent. Ita spent a good sweep to remove rainwater stagnating on the cement court and the opportunity to bring us the sun. This town is nothing exciting, except that it is close to the historic capital Antigua, Guatemala City and political capital that it is crossed by road PanAmericas year which begins in Alaska Finally in the forest Darién in Panama. What is most interesting about this city, it is the workers, the daily lives of people see a city far from needy sirens tourism that mask the dull sound of ordinary life. But otherwise we go to Antigua with Tim and his incredible yellow car: a sports coupe. In passing we make a detour to San Andres Itzapa. Parked, Tim takes us on a small sloping street where vendors lucky set up their stalls. It includes everything from herbs, small folded paper, alcohol bottles without labels, seeds, small statuettes to smoking. We arrive at the street corner, Tim takes us into the courtyard of a house where a dense white smoke escapes. On the doorstep we understand the situation quickly. A dozen people are agitated within throwing grass fires on the ground, while others are on their knees chanting some obscure songs and incantations. At bottom right installed on a flight of stairs two "Mariachi" played before a large door which seems to drive most people. Inside the atmosphere up another notch. People are lining up to worship a statue and receive the blessing of the priest. Tim gives us some information: the statue is Machimon, any Latino representation of Saint-Simon, mustache and cigarette in his mouth. The priest, dressed as everyday people gives blessings with a vengeance, beating people with large tufts of grass before drinking a shot of brandy and spit them all on the parties duly smoothies: top of the head, shoulders back and he connects these blessings without stopping. We are here far from the Mass in Latin, some of our churches. Here is where God meets the Devil, that the meeting because the passion and do it none the worse! Starting again we buy some souvenirs to merchants from the temple by lying there and back in car Antigua, Guatemala's colonial gem. We address a coffee factory, but is now closed. We left the car near the market, go eat a piece in the Pollo Campero in the area. This fast- food KFC atmosphere but 100% of Guatemala is the Latin American response to the giant Catholic Protestant North, and it works. In our fast-food e st synonymous with fast food and cheap, here is the opposite: it is expensive compared to what one can find in the street and it becomes almost an output valued to go spend money in there, and is also a sign of success to work. Full stomach we leave we lose in the streets of this ancient city planning rectangular. Cobbled streets, colonnaded houses in two or three floors, many buildings bear the scars of the earthquake of 1773. Besides, it's probably why the city has lost its function as capital. In passing we take some information to visit an active volcano about an hour from here and as a result we go to the next early morning.

The evening we spend an evening of fun to the delight of Tim, who can finally show me his Heroes Click. We discover how he is fascinated by these figures representing superheroes avatars of our modern gods. We settle on a full stomach around the game board and each team is its super-hero and the battle begins. I quickly found that Tim is more interested in the collection side of personnaages by the strategy. The finished part, we chat and Tim tells us he spent much of his childhood holidays in a small village two hours away. And since he returned to settle in the country has resumed contact with them and open a class to teach English to children. Parents who have a minimum of money trying to push their kids to learn English because maybe one day they will try to go to the U.S. to work and earn some more money here. The passage is using smugglers named Coyote. Tim suggested we go with him to the village to spend two days and visited "The Village" he tells us that there are also coffee plantations. It does not take us more for the deal.

In the morning we take a good breakfast for parents of Ita, grilled bananas, cookies, juice, coffee. We visit the incredible house where tropical plants emerge from everywhere, huge cages occupied by birds of all sizes. The eyes and stomach filled we take the bus to Antigua to find our group and start the attack on the volcano. A stroll in town, you break a seed and 13 hours before we post our agency wisely and look in the rain. The rain stopped and a young woman joins us and takes us to a van already packed with tourists that we welcome only when we climb. The guide joins us and we leave. An hour away and we approach the flanks of the volcano, sharp turns, mud and stones. Twenty minutes of this treatment and we come to the park entrance. We are not alone, there is already a good herd tourists ready to climb the volcano to go to warm their hands at the source. No sooner we put the foot down a bunch of kids we alpague to sell us stick and marshmallow. Once the price reaches the stick more reasonable prices we buy two. The stick is to facilitate the ascent of the volcano and marshmallows to roast it over the washing up once. Direction the dug where we buy our tickets We meet by chance, which should no longer be one, Kalen and Jason who are also adventure. Since our paths are separated in Panama, it is still three times that we encounter "by chance" the English couple with whom we had made the crossing by boat from Cartagena to Panama. The exchange is brief, as their group leaves immediately, ours is still a good ten minutes to implement. An hour through the forest with the taxi-natural trying to motivate the side shots of our group for the horse to climb and it works! The trees disappear, then vegetation and finally the earth itself, all that remains now only dust and black pebbles. Before us a cliff. From its summit we can a lunar landscape, a lava flow solidified matte black. We here at the power of nature. We walk along the slope and come to this solid magma. In some minutes we walk on it a few days ago, a few hours was the magma. We see beneath the crust hardened rivers of lava flowing. We feel the warmth of the land going back with our shoes off a tongue of fire out of earth above a chimney of magma solidified our business as the guardian of hell, hardly do we have the time to arrive at the river of magma as the rain returns, more and stronger causing immediate contact with the lava clouds of sulfurous steam in addition the wind that brings clouds. Gradually our field of vision narrows and plunges us into a parallel world which may arise from some Mayan spirits take revenge. But fortunately our guide is there for us and squeeze us from the clutches of our imagination and take us away from these mists where it would be easy to get lost and accidentally walking on a patch of lava that could crack under our careless and we offer a one-way ticket to hell. Back to reality rain. My eyes begin to bite me, scratch me. One of the least harmful effects of evaporation and sulfur hell of the volcano. Soon we return to our starting point pressed by the rain and night. Downstairs we change quickly to put some warm clothes, guys from our tour group offers a basket of hot fries, a nice little happiness. We ship still shivering in the van and us get to Antigua. Here we will wait over an hour Ita brings us back to the house for a good meal and a hot shower.

Tomorrow direction of the village Tim, two hours of track here.

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282-284 J / Link Tikal-Chimaltenango

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.

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275-281 J / Tourists in the Maya

The night the lights of civilization marching, we arrived at Tegucigalpa. The bus stops. Erik Will there? We take our pouches and descend. "Hey guys, what's up?" It is always nice to be greeted at the exit of a bus, it was long it does not happen. We jump in a cab to his hotel. This is not the smartest nor the most ugly. We only stay one night then it will be fine. Not a shop to open, we headed to a gas station to eat. On the menu, burgers of the most basic, soda will. No doubt it approaches the United States. While we eat out of the guys are revved their customs, their polishent body and tell the box with their elbows on the door-open throttle. Not to say a nice kebab kékés. Everyone joined up shop.
a coffee in the lobby of the hotel. We recover our bags and head for the bus terminal where we need to find a bus to a town north of Copan, d e there we will be able to find a bus to this small town where the ruins of the Mayan city. Erik decided to accompany us. Arriving da ns neighborhood, we immediately understand that we do not travel first class. Check in half an hour, just enough time to put on a good breakfast for us to wait before departure. The road will be long, a good 6 hours. Nothing to report to a stop in a big stat ion where Laetitia was almost missed the bus, with Erik at his Research and me trying to explain to the driver she was going back ... All this does not prevent us from arriving on time in the small town of Copan. A place quite charming, cobbled streets, small houses in your very colonial. Men in Cowboy hat and Texas, and those who park in front of banks give a western modern with their shotguns. We find a charming hotel, we set all three in the same room restriction bud ary forces. At night we start dragging our soles in the city, buy some cigars and bottles. We sat on the square to watch a music concert by religious circles of smoke.
The next day we resumed our cloak of supercoils and we take a leadership tuctuc the es es ruin of Copan, one of the most cited of late Mayan era. U n pleasant site, wooded, beautiful stelae, temples and few people. In short everything you would expect from such a place. N ll learn out there in other ruins to visit a little further that they are composed of many homes. The day after we recidivism Tuc tuc. Passing the main site we see a crowd of people with the b Anderol, no doubt it is an event that has nothing cultural. The driver confirms this, it is the local peasants who show no doubt demand for money, apparently the interests of our drivers are not the same as those of peasants. We leave this ugly character! And we go visit. Soon we're approached by a guide, this time we accept. Beautiful golf in the woods deserted of tourists, probably frightened by the protesters upstream. Back to hitchhike on the back of a pickup, that the joy of being upright hair in the wind ...
Back to the village to talk the sequence of events. Erik still does not know if it goes directly to Belize to join her aunt before leaving for Seattle. Much indecision before I go out a cigar and a beer and agreed to continue the road to Tikal, another major city of the Mayan empire with us at least to the point closest to Belize. And here we are equipped and sweating the next day to speak with a reel of minibuses, which in passing we announced a price more than twice that we know. We use the usual technique of one who is not willing to take that bus and wait for the next, the price immediately joined the local course. An hour later we're at the border with Guatemala. The sun gives way to a downpour, but we have time we embark on another minibus for another hour away. We arrive in a medium sized city, dirty, polluted, with touts who jump on us just out of the bus ... And it connects with another bus to a town farther north. The meter is running and the night arrives. We descend on the outskirts of town, cross the road to get to the pharmacy to inform us on the buses that go to Tikal. There a. But the guy wants us to cough up the entire route from the starting point of the bus. And this bus goes here about 23 hours. Scenery: some barracks, station service and the gentleman who announces that pa g fro 21 hours the area is infamous. Two choices, sleep in this rotten hole and wait for the next day to travel or take the bus. We are tired, hungry, unable to make a decision, let go of the nerves, we yell at each other. The person from the Office has a solution. We take a bus to a little further, included in the package, and we can in this place better reputation, which must wait for the bus to take us to our final destination. Everything goes as planned, after two hours the bus we loose all three in a huge gas station. It is 20 hours. Erik hopes to here take a bus to a town farther north where it should pick up a boat to Belize. Looking at the map and the bus route that we take we understand that his interest is to take the same as us. Especially since he had taken the bus did not stop. It would therefore be condemned to sleep under the stars in the station. The bus arrives, we sit in our reserved seats, Erik was not so lucky he's on a stool in the aisle. The night passes as she can. No air conditioning, frequent stops ... At dawn we say goodbye to Erik and descend to cross a road. It's 6 o'clock in the morning, we're almost there. The line is straight, great fatigue, heavy bags, but there is still a little cool at night and birds sing. We finally arrive at the village and seek a place to grab a coffee and end up in a cabin that is a museum, bar, shop all covered in a thick layer of dust. The guy served us coffee with a strong odor but, om Elette with two eggs he has left. And here he pushes the song while showing us his small museum ... he even managed to show earrings to Laetitia for her to buy him. They are not bad, the problem is that he has one. Nevermind, it brings pearls, apart from other jewelry while we launch from time to time a hard look that turns immediately into a loud laugh that ends in fraternal poetic frenzy ... In short we do not know if we're very tired or if we are still in the bus dreaming this scene worthy of a half-sleep between dreams and reality. We leave this difficult strange character to his madness and take a bus to the park entrance which houses the ruins of Tikal. As a salute our RRIV rain comes to cleanse us from our fatigue with plenty of water. We go to the three hotels to evaluate their bids ... not so easy with torrents that form in the paths. But we eventually find one quite to our taste. Here we are far from good hotels usually markets we frequent: lamp, thicker mattresses, nice view over the tropical gardens where hummingbirds foraging on flowers. How good a little luxury, too, because we all need to even leave the room to wash us in the shared bathroom ... in luxury we took the cheapest. By the evening we extend our stay by a luxurious dinner at the hotel for the price very European ... it even adds to all this wine, we gain strength for tomorrow morning we plan to go soon dawn on the site for the pleasant light of dawn, the chirping of birds, maybe see a toucan that Laetitia looks in each forest that we are experiencing now that we have addressed the equatorial zone and a comfortable temperature.
The whoop, we lot of sleep. A good shower and we're in the booth where we take our tickets. Everything would be perfect if the mosquitoes had not decided to come join us also. But after the Amazon, we close that learned to control our annoyance against this horrible insect. Fortunately the view from the first temple which discovered through the thick vegetation makes us forget the little things and we're under the spell of ancient Mayan cities. The site being dispersed we walk into the jungle to reach the different groups, always on the lookout for the toucan and his cry of a frog. But it does not show up. After three hours and have discovered the main group consists of two pyramids that face each other, and some residential buildings, we return to a hearty breakfast at the hotel before leaving to explore the rest of the site. And eventually we will see our toucan in flight, just a few seconds to admire her figure and her big black yellow bill and see it disappear into the tree groves. It is eleven o'clock, we are happy and we walk joyfully, glad to have seen our toucan. We climb to the top of the pyramids, our picnic under the trees while the monkeys move from branch to branch. A nice day in the heart of Mayan history. Tikal was the Mayan city most influential of the classical period, it owes to the fall of the city El Mirador, which dominated the first period and the ouster of his rival to the north. Its successor the international star of Mexican cultural tourism, the widely recognized Chichen Itza. It is 18 o'clock, the sun sets and gives way to rain torrential. It is time to desert the site as most tourists and we return to our little room at the shelter from the weather and mosquitoes.
Farewell Tikal, we continue our journey west to the charming town of Flores.