With little information available on the internet and only a basic map that we had found in a hostel in Palenque, Alex and I planned to walk our way through the Biosphere of Montes Azules and the Lancandon jungle. The idea was that it would be cheaper to walk and you would have time to take in the scenery and meet some interesting people along the way. Oh and it would be something challenging, that’s what Alex wanted, to do something challenging.

We set off from Palenque along the main road that goes alongside the Guatemalan border. We asked the collectivo driver to drop us off at the junction that would be the start of our walk. Our first destination would be Bajlum Paakal, an Eco-Touristic Centre approximately 7km from the main road. We wanted to go here as this was the place you needed to get to if you wanted to see La Asuncion, a beautiful waterfall with very little info on the world wide web. Knowing that you could camp there, it was going to be a cheap start to our adventure.

Once we were dropped off, we started walking down the road that lead to Bajlum Pakal. This road was a dead end with a small Ejido called Nueva Betania half way along it. Once we made it to the village, rather than just ogling us like everyone else, one guy decided to ask where we were heading. We told him where we were headed and he told us there was no services there anymore. We decided not to trust him or at least check to see if we could still put a tent up and find the waterfall ourselves. We walked further and came to a junction in the road, that wasn’t familiar from our look on google the previous night, and there wasn’t a sign post in sight. Luckily a car drove past and told us where Bajlum Paakal was, and then told us that it had been closed for a couple of years. Seeing as we were 6km in, we decided to take a look anyway and he was correct. It was still there, but it was being reclaimed by the jungle. There was a motorbike there so we called out and a man came to greet us. He told us it was closed and that the only people who came here were people who would cut down trees to steal wood. I think this is what he was doing. We had a look around but it was starting to get a little bit later on in the day so we decided not to risk staying on the land without permission, with thieves around us, and head back to Neuva Betania.

We found the Chief of the Ejido (I can’t remember or spell the Spanish word for it) and asked him if there was anywhere to stay in his village. There were no hotels, restaurants or anything of that sort, it was a small Ejido of just a couple hundred people. He said we could stay in their re-union hall with a guy who was working on the roads here. This was like a town hall with rows of metallic benches where the whole village would come for meetings and stuff. We made a couple of beds and went to the local shop to get some grub. Dinner that night was Tostada’s (fried tortillas) with tinned ham, tinned frijoles and tinned jalapeños on top. It is probably the least appetising thing I had eaten since I ate dog food many years back.

 

We re-evaluated our plans because, obviously, our map was out of date and we were about to walk into a remote part of Mexico. We decided to go to a place called Tres Lagunas, at the end of our planned walk, use their internet and leave anything there we didn’t need to carry with us. The weight of our bags were too much and fortunately, Pablo, the owner at Tres Lagunas was nice enough to let us leave some stuff behind. Tres Lagunas is another Eco-Touristic Centre that has 3 lakes and is a sanctuary for crocodiles. We camped there for one night next to one of the Lakes and the next morning we planned to sort out our bags and set off for our walk.

Neither of us are very good at getting up early and getting ourselves sorted so we decided to stop off at a Vallescondio, where Alex had seen a hotel with cheap rooms so we could get a good feed in and a decent nights kip before we actually set off on our walk. We got out and realised that this was not the place it was supposed to be. It was actually 8km further down the road. We had some coffee and breakfast and walked the 8km to the actual place we wanted to stay, Camino Verde. The food was good and cheap, as was the room and we were finally ready to leave for our walk. We got a collective the next morning and arrived at Crucero Chancala, the start of our week of walking through the Biosphere of Montes Azules.

True to form, and our luck, it started to rain as soon as we started walking. We grabbed a poncho each from a little hardware store and set off walking towards the first town, La Reforma. From La Reforma, it was 36.5km to the first planned destination, Metzabok. Metzabok was a mayan village on a large lake that has still kept its traditions and old ways. Google told us that there was 3 villages within the first 13.5km then nothing until El Diamante, which was 29km from La Reforma and 7km from Metzabok. To do the whole journey in one day meant we would be walking in the dark, which is not advised due to the road being used by criminals to traffic wood, people and drugs. We needed to find somewhere to stop off along the journey.

Having started walking in the rain, it continued to do so for much of the day. After 4km of near enough constant uphill walking, we made it to 5 de Mayo, a tiny Ejido along the road. There wasn’t much there other than a lot of kids and people staring at us as we walked through. We continued to walk uphill, in the rain, until we reached the 9.1km mark and a little place called Chocoljaito. It was on the river Chocoljaito so we decided to stop for ‘lunch’ and a little rest by the river. We asked if there was anywhere to get food but it had one shop only that sold snacks and nothing of any nutritional use. After we had rested up, we pursued on and made it to Crucero Peñal, a junction just before El Resbalon which was at the 13.2km mark. This leg of the journey had been dry but as soon as we reached Crucero Peñal, the heavens opened up and we had to take shelter.

Due to the rapid incline of the walk and the fitness of us both, we deliberated whether we could make it another 16km to El Diamante before it got dark. It was still mid-afternoon but we decided it was safer to stop here if we could, rather than continue on and risk not having anywhere to stay at El Diamante. Alex asked a lady next to the shop if there was anywhere to stay around here. There was no hotels or places to stay but the ladies mum had an empty house and she said she would ask her if we could use it. After a bit, a man called Manuel came and said we could use their empty house. It was basically a barn with a dirt floor and 3 lambs in the garden out back by the toilet. It was right on the junction, which also happened to be where all the taxi drivers were hanging around and also where they would took a leak. For us it was shelter where we could put the tent up and free of charge so we weren’t complaining. We shared the only beer in town and managed to get some reasonable food, cooked at the local (and only) shop. We relaxed for the night and managed to get a decent enough night sleep.

 

The next morning we set packed up and set off early (for us) with almost 23km ahead of us before we reached Metzabok. It was 16km until the village of El Diamante, according to Google, so we were expecting a lonely walk for a bit. Before long we came to small village called San Miguel which Google seemed to forget off its maps. It was small but it was big enough to be seen by Googles satellites for sure. Just after San Miguel, there was another little village that was slightly bigger than the previous. This too was nowhere to be seen on Google. Just after this village we stumbled across ‘Parador Eco-Touristico – Agua y Campo’, an Eco-Touristic Centre with a river, small waterfalls and a campsite. Had we known about this place, we could have enjoyed the location and camped there for the night, rather than in someone’s barn. Yet again this was not available on big G’s maps, it was not even visible. We stopped off anyway to have a quick swim and enjoy the river before we set off again.

A few km’s further down this remote uninhabited road, we came across another small village called El Piedron. There was the usual scenario of people staring at us and kids running into their gardens and then staring at us. It was like we were on a catwalk or being paraded infront of everyone. Then we heard someone say, “Hello, how are you?” We were both shocked that we had heard some English, it had been a while. We went over and said hello to a young guy on the side of the road, Fredy was his name. We chatted to him for a bit, in English and in Spanish, before he (or Alex) invited us into his home for some food. His mum made us some scrambled eggs and tortillas and he gave us lots of information about the area and the road ahead. Apparently, Google didn’t show these places on their maps because huge corporations were trying to buy the land, evict the people and cut all the trees down and use the land to make some money. Therefore, these places didn’t need to exist on the internet, then people would not notice that they were gone. He also told us that there was a lot more uphill walking to do and that the next few villages weren’t as friendly as the previous ones.

We set of with full bellies and started the slow long incline. The next village we would come across would be El Diamante. With the time we had wasted at the river and eating at Fredy’s, we needed to push on and try not to stop that much anymore. Luckily Fredy was right, El Diamante wasn’t as hospitable as the previous places, so there was no reason to stop. People still stared at us, but not with the same bemused look, it was more of an unwelcoming stare. We quickly walked through El Diamante, avoiding eye contact with the drunk dude in the road and walked the next 3km to Peña Limonar. The reception was pretty much the same here as we received in El Diamante so we walked straight through knowing that we had about an hour left of walking.

There was supposed to be a turning about 10 minutes after Peña Limonar which would lead us 4km up the road to Metzabok. This turning never arrived. Instead we were greeted with one of the steepest inclines we had come across yet, and it went on for ever. We were under the impression that we had somehow missed the turning or gone the wrong way. We even came across another unmapped village, Cuauhtemoc, which fortunately had friendlier people that told us we were on the right road, even if Metzabok was still a long way away.

We were starting to struggle with the distance we had covered and the lack of energy remaining. Finally the turning for Metzabok had arrived but there were no clear sign posts again. It was definitely the right turning but there was a feeling that it might not exist anymore. We met a guy at the junction and he informed us that there was a community, Laguna Colorada, at the end of this 4km road but Metzabok was much further along the road we were already walking.

We walked a further 5km past this junction and through another little village called Neuva Esperanza. Everyone in this village told us to take the left at the next crucero, after Neuva Esperanza, and they all gave varying times and distances ranging from 15 minutes to 2 hours. When we eventually made it to this junction, there was a familiar lack of sign posts. We waited around for some signs of life to help us know if we had to go down this road or not. Eventually a young dude called Felipe turned up on a motorbike. He let us know that it was the turning for Metzabok but it was a good 2-3 hour walk more with half an hour of sunlight left and no village close by. This was where the conversation in Spanish went above my level and the next thing I knew, we were getting onto the back of his motorbike, backpacks and all. It was a bit of a tight squeeze but we managed to get us all on, even if I was sat on the metal rack at the back of the bike.

The next 20-25 minutes was fun but one of the sketchiest things I had done in a while. The roads are made up of loose rocks and gravel and have crevices and pot holes all over. To make it worse, the road was constantly going uphill and downhill. The uphill parts left me hanging on for my life with the weight of my backpack pulling me off the bike. The downhill parts were terrifying as it was impossible to use the brakes without skidding and the bike was picking up speed and bouncing all over the road. We made it to Metzabok in one piece and were dropped off at the ladies house who ran the Eco-Touristic centre in Metzabok.

I know we cheated at the end, but not including the 6.2km motorbike ride, we had walked nearly 30km that day and just over 40km over the last 2 days. We had made it to our first destination, and were in need of some well-deserved rest. The walk itself was challenging but thoroughly worthwhile with interesting people and breath-taking views along the way.

This part of the blog was almost as long as the walk so I will continue the journey in the next post.

Having spent nearly 2 months at Kiichpam K´aax, it seemed better to spend Christmas day there, with the Mayan part of our family, rather than alone in a random Hostel or Posada. I awoke in the morning, at stupid o’clock Mexican time, and made my way to the restaurant area where they had internet. I needed to video call Mum, Dad, Nanna, Dean and Hollie before they all went to Holie’s parents for Christmas dinner. This meant braving the dogs, which are particularly vicious whilst the owners are still asleep. Fortunately for me, they decided to let me into the restaurant and to the light switches before they came running around the corner. Honey, the mother and leader of the pack, came for a cuddle, whilst Colas, the muscle, looked on jealously from a distance. They even let me into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee without any trouble. Maybe they were finally used to me or maybe they were just being nice because it was Christmas.

I managed to get hold of Dean, who had been arranging the video chat with me, and he told me he would call me once Dad was out of the shower, or had finished doing his hair or something like that. Whilst waiting for the call back, three Mexicans pulled up in a car and wanted cervezas. I thought they wanted it to take away but they decided to come into the restaurant and wanted to chat too. One of them was very drunk and was making absolutely no sense, but he still insisted on trying to talk to me. Fortunately for me, Dad takes ages too put his make-up on, otherwise I might have missed their call. Having spoke to the family, that was about as Christmassy as it got. There were no presents, Christmas trees, decorations or Christmas songs or carols (thankfully).

Once Alex had woken up, we went to go and see the ‘Borrego’, which is a big lamb or goat, which we would be eating for Christmas dinner. He was alive and tied up out the back of Damien’s Dads house. He was really cute for a lamb/goat and we fed him some nice fresh green leaves that he was struggling to reach. It would turn out to be his last meal because as soon as we returned to the restaurant, Damien and Felipe were on their way to ‘prepare the meal’. Being a vegetarian, Alex didn’t agree, but I thought it is important to see how the meat makes it to your plate.

 

Seeing as I was there, Damien took a backseat role (he fell asleep in a hammock) and let me help Felipe with the process. I will spare you all the details, but it was mostly done by Felipe, I was just holding parts whilst he did all the work. The skinning of the animal is quite an art and Felipe was very skilled at it. I was able to help out the skinning process at one point, his balls, and I was very good at it or so Felipe said. None of the animal is wasted. Everything apart from the freshly digested leaves are cooked up, and I mean everything. If you are thinking of something that we can’t possibly eat, we did. Many hours later Christmas dinner was served with enough food for about 15 of us. Seeing as we were having lamb, I thought it would be a good idea to make a mint sauce so they could sample how it was eaten in England. I even made a spicy mint relish to suit the Mexican taste buds with all ingredients taken from the garden at Kiichpam. I had to force them to try it and it seemed like they were just being polite before they took more habanero sauce that Juanita made (which was much tastier).

Having spent Christmas at Kiichpam, we needed to move on before New Year’s Eve. The plan was to head to Palenque with a stop off at Bacalar to say hello to Carol, the lady from the first volunteering stint. The last we had heard was that she had moved to another venue on the laguna and was managing it. We planned it at short noticed and decided to make it a surprise visit, knowing she would be glad to see us. The one bus a day that goes past Kiichpam, was over an hour late and decided not to stop for us. The driver could clearly see us and had space in the bus but for some reason, he just kept on driving. We waited longer for a Collectivo, which costs a little bit more and we arrived in Bacalar a bit later than we had hoped.

Bacalar seemed different from the last time we were there, it was busy and full of tourists. Luckily we knew Carol would be able to give us somewhere to sleep because most places could have been fully booked. We made our way to see Carol and when we got there, the lady in reception did not have the slightest clue who Carol was. Neither did anyone else there, no one had ever heard of her. I managed to get hold of her and it turned out that she had quit there too and moved on to San Cristobal de la Casa, 8 hours away by bus. We attempted to find somewhere to stay but the only options were expensive private rooms or tents with holes in them. Everywhere was fully booked and we were now stuck in Bacalar. We took an ok, but pricey room for the night and then headed to Chetumal the next day (New Year’s Eve) to get an overnight bus to Palenque.

Once in Chetumal, we headed to the bus station to book some tickets. The plan was to get a little bottle of fizz, see out the New Year on the bus and then sleep until we get to Palenque. As we were booking the tickets, someone elsewhere booked them first, and they vanished of the availability screen. The next bus was at 2:30am, and was our only option, so we took it. We had a bit of time so we made sure we bought a tent and other stuff we needed so weren’t left short in the future. Chetumal isn’t a very nice city, it’s quite industrial and there’s not much happening there so we ended up spending the turning of the New Year, sat in Chetumal bus station, watching Lord of the Rings.

Once we arrived in Palenque we headed to try to find a guy with cheap lodgings that we had been told about by a Mexican friend way back in Tulum. We were unable to find him, as he probably didn’t exist, so went to camp in Mayabell, a well-known place for travellers. After one night there, we realised it had changed more into a resort for affluent travellers and not a social hot spot for backpackers. We search other places and found much cheaper prices everywhere. We walked into one place, called Elementos Naturales, that looked closed but had some signs of life. We encountered a Belgian guy, with his Mexican Wife and two little toddlers, who were rehabilitating the previous cabanas that had been taken over by the Jungle. After speaking to them for over an hour, we decided to pitch our tent up and stay for a couple of nights.

After we arrived, the place got busy with lots of people turning up to stay. This was more the vibe we were after with backpackers and travellers all with similar paths and interesting information and experiences to share. Having seen the main ruins in Palenque, we should have moved on to the next destination, but for some reason, every day we stayed one more day. There was an American guy, John, who had been there from the start of the rehabilitation (2-3 months). He had explored the surrounding Jungle and found waterfalls, caves and a few undiscovered ruins. He took us to all to see the undiscovered ruins one day which involved walking through the jungle and climbing up a river and numerous waterfalls. As soon as we left the campsite, it absolutely bucketed it down with rain and it didn’t stop pelting it down until after we had returned home. Luckily everyone was wearing their swimming gear and the rain was quite refreshing in the daytime heat.

It was a good 2 hour trek to get to these hidden ruins and we were in fairly dense jungle so we had to do it with precaution. We even lathered ourselves up with mud, which supposedly helps your skin (people pay for that kind of treatment) and also stops the mosquitos from getting you. I just liked it as it made me look tanned and reminded me of being a kid playing in the mud. After some epic views and amazing plants and trees, we made it to the ruins. It wasn’t a big structure and it was completely engulfed by the jungle but it was still amazing to see something that has survived this many years and seen by so few people. To get in, there was a small hole in the ground that you had to climb through that led you into a smallish chamber. There was an exit on the other side too but it was a tighter fit and up a slippery slope. Once inside, there was a tiny hole you had to worm yourself through which entered a room, big enough for 2 people to sit. I think it might have been a tomb or a chamber where someone was buried, without their permission, as there was a pretty bad vibe whilst you were inside. You got the feeling that something not very nice had happened there.

Of all the people we met at Elementos Naturales, we briefly met a guy who had been cycling the world for over a year. We also met a Dutch couple who had walked from Holland to Italy and the girl was about to do the Pacific Coast Trail. This made Alex sad that she wasn’t doing anything challenging and this was the catalyst of our next adventure. We had wanted to see the Biosfera de Montes Azules, a jungled area in Chiapas near the Guatemalan border. The Lancandon Jungle is full of indigenous tribes, has a huge percentage of Mexico’s flora and fauna and is one of the last remaining areas of jungle big enough to support the Jaguar in North America. There was not much information on the web about this area and the only thing we could find was a so-called map that showed a road that goes through the middle of it, with a couple of eco-touristic centres on them. This was enough info for Alex to decide that she wanted to walk it and that was enough for me to join her.

So we are volunteering at Kiichpam K’aax, an Eco Touristic Centre with acres of jungle surrounding it, owned by Damian, which then joins onto more Jungle, owned by Don Sebero, who works at Kiichpam K’aax most of the time. I will mention Don Sebero much more later, as he is an amazing specimen of a man. They own so much land because the government gave all the land back to the people after the civil war in Mexico. It’s called ‘Ejidos’ and it has been done as a way of conserving and protecting the land. Kiichpam K’aax is 10km away from the nearest village, Chunhuhub, which doesn’t have much to entertain you other than taking in the Mayan culture and explaining to the locals why on earth we would come to their village (which they can`t comprehend one bit)

The aim of Kiichpam K’aax is to maintain its Mayan heritage, and display the cultural techniques they have been using for thousands of years. This includes making honey from stingless bees, making a material called Henequen from a certain palm tree, the extraction of sugar from sugar cane and many more including cooking tamales in an underground oven. Most of the food here is sourced from the garden and if they don’t have something, it is acquired from a local source in Chunhuhub. Everything is prepared by hand and cooked on a fire stove the traditional way. The majority of materials used for building stuff, are sourced from the jungle. The toilet waste is used for compost and the electricity is attained through solar panels. They have internet but it has similar speeds to our internet from the late nineties, and decides not to work when it rains and continues to not work for hours afterwards. Not much is wasted here. Bones go to the dogs, the little food waste goes to the pigs and even the rubbish and plastic bottles are given a use somewhere around the site.

Having stayed at Kiichpam K’aax for nearly 2 months now, the “interview” on the first night with Damian and Margarita, was about as formal and structured as it got. Alex briefly explained what was said and it consisted more of them finding out whom we are and what we can do, and telling us what we need to know about the place. One of the things they explained to us was that the dogs will bite so you need to be careful around them at first. She also said that they were tied up out back of the kitchen so not to worry.

The next morning I woke up at 7am and made my way to the restaurant area to get a cup of coffee. As I turned the corner to the restaurant, I was greeted by the drooling teeth of three ravenous dogs barking like lunatics trying to bite my knee caps. I needed the toilet anyway, so I went into the bathroom, which turned out to be the ladies, and closed the door behind me. Even after doing my business they were still at the door barking away. I decided to wait 5 minutes because I wanted to eat breakfast and not be eaten for breakfast myself. After the barking had stopped, I decided to be a man and leave the ladies toilet. They returned in a flash and continued to try and eat me. I took a step forwards to show them who was boss and they backed off, but only for a second, before coming at me again. At this point Damain walked in, shouted at the dogs, and they retreated to his side.

I thanked Alex for telling me about the dogs, and asked if she could give me all the information in future. There was in fact a fourth dog that started to attack me once Damian had calmed the situation down. A tiny puppy that was too small and too cute to be annoying when it tried to bite you. It turns out that in my misunderstanding of Damian telling me their names, I actually ended up naming the puppy, ‘ Nicero’ , and everyone has been calling it by that name ever since. The dogs are fine now, and after a few more close calls, they actually do as I say on some occasions.

Other than getting eaten by blood thirsty guard dogs, we didn’t do much for the first couple of days. Damian wanted us to come up with ways of improving the place with what they already had. We came up with lots of ideas and some of them he really liked. Since the first couple of days of doing not a lot, we have done quite a lot since. Alex has been painting things all around the place, including replacing all the tatty old signs with bi-lingual, more aesthetically pleasing ones. She has painted a massive tree on the back wall of the bar in the main restaurant, to which I added shelves for the bottles of spirits, constructed from a tree trunk we cut up. The majority of Alex’s work has been painting or related to art, but the majority of my work has been construction or destruction. As you can probably guess, I have been having fun!

You are never really working alone here. There is Don Sebero, Felipe, his son Julian or one of the 3 other volunteers that arrived just after we did. Feilpe’s daughter also works here but she works closer with Juanita, Damians wife, around the kitchen and does the cleaning of the cabanas too. There are also two 8 year old twins, Natasha and Ariel who are the children of Margarita. Ariel spends most of his time playing games on computers or hiding when he is asked to do some form of work. Natasha is keen to do anything and go anywhere and will help you out with whatever you are doing. The other volunteers consisted of a Mexican, a Spaniard and an Italian who had made a surprise visit after volunteering here last year. All of the above were a pleasure to meet and even though my Spanish is still not amazing, I managed have fun working and relaxing with the guys.

I had the chance to cut a new Sendero (a path or trail) through the virgin jungle at the back of Kiichpam K’aax, using solely a machete. That was great fun, although I was told to calm down and not hack away at everything I could see. After the first day of path cutting, I had two blisters on my hands from the machete handle. Don Sebero treated me in the jungle with the liquid inside a branch as an antiseptic. He found it hilarious that I had the hands of a girl and also the pain he was inflicting with his natural healing. The Sendero stretches 1km long and goes in a big wiggely circle before returning back to the start. Along the path there will be a station for Yoga, a gymnasium, a place to chill in hammocks and a house of wooden beds. There is also talk of building Ti-pi’s along the Sendero, as a place to camp for future travellers and maybe even a hostel too. Whilst chatting to Damian the other night, he said he wanted to name it ‘Sendero Matt’, but as touched as I was, the name doesn’t really fit with the rest of the place. But it’s nice that they finally know my name is Matt now, having been called Matteo for the first month.

There will be a lot more work needed, long after we are gone, before the Sendero has taken full shape. So far we have half-finished the Yoga station. To build this we had to go deep into the jungle where Don Sebero and Felipe cut down humongous ‘Zapota’ trees. Once they had been felled and cut to size, we had to carry through the jungle and onto Damian’s truck. The Zapota tree has been used for years by the Mayans, and because of its durability it is perfect for construction. But because of its durability, it means it weighs a lot, especially if the pieces we were carrying were 5m long and 30cm or more in diameter. We would need 2, 3 or even 4 people to struggle through the jungle with the large Zapota tree but Don Sebero would just chuck one on his shoulder and trot of in his wellies. On one occasion, after carrying a tree to the truck, I returned to help with the next one and heard a whole lot of commotion. Four people had been carrying a tree when, as they turned a corner, they knocked into a wasp nest which initiated the wasp’s defence mode. They attack fast and in numbers, and when you’re carrying half a tonne of wood on your shoulder, it’s hard to defend yourself. We all left the jungle that day beaten and bruised and in need of a beer. Not being able to fully comprehend the Spanish language, when someone shouted “drop it”, I wouldn’t. This caused me to take a tree to the head, a whack to the shoulder and one tree sent me tumbling onto the rocky floor. I probably should have asked what that word was after the first time!

That was probably the hardest I have pushed my body in a long time but for Don Sebero it was like a walk in the park. He is a 74 year old machine and has been living off the jungle his whole life. He always has his machete by his side and cuts through trees like they are made from butter. And he cuts anything that is in sight too. He knows all the species of plants and trees, and what qualities they have for food, drink or medicinal purposes. Since he has been 11 years old he has been extracting ‘Chicle’ and he still does it today at the age of 74 and doesn’t look like stopping. Chicle is the sap obtained by scoring the flesh of the Zapota tree which is used to make chewing gum. It was chewed by the Mayans to stave off hunger, to keep their breath smelling fresh, to keep their teeth clean and even used to fill tooth cavities. Using just a piece of rope, wrapped around him and the tree in a big loop, Don Sebero climbs the tree with a consummate ease. We had a chance to witness and attempt this and it was not easy. Apparently I got the highest and was the best ‘chiclero’ out of anyone he had ever taken out, but I was knackered before I could reach anywhere near the heights Don Sebero reached.

The extraction of chicle was just one of the tours that they do at Kiichpam K’aax for their guest. Damian also took us to a cenote, a short drive away before we cut off into the jungle for a few more kilometres. The cenote was about 15m in diameter and had sheer cliffs ranging from 5m-20m circling around the outside. It was possible to jump in and have a swim, and fortunately, someone had left a rope-swing behind. The second time we visited the cenote, I thought it would be a good idea to throw my GoPro at Alex, who was in the cenote, so she could film me swinging in. Let’s just say that I have thrown stuff much better in my life and not even Michael Phelps could have made it to the camera before it disappeared into the abyss. The cenote has been measured up to 48m deep before the divers feared that the currents from the underground caves would suck them to their deaths. It basically means that it’s gone for good and I am a very stupid boy.

Damian also took us bird-watching one morning. This involved a little drive on the back of his camienetta and then into the jungle. We then had a little trek before we reached a fairly large hill, which we ascended to get a view above the jungle. The hill was in fact a Mayan Pyramid that had been found but not excavated. It was still completely absorbed by the jungle, covered in trees and plants all over. There are numerous sites like this throughout the Yucatan region because the resources are not there to excavate them all.

Calakmul is one of the largest Mayan sites and it is yet to be fully excavated. The three other volunteers, Alex and I, all hired a car and went to go and see it. Calakmul is deep in the jungle, 60km from the nearest village/town, 55km from the nearest campsite and a mission to get to. We got a bus to Chetumal to pick up the car, then made our way to the campsite and arrived quite late at night. We awoke early in the morning and made the rest of the journey down the pot holed road to the archaeological site. When we got there, it was absolutely breath taking and worth the struggle of a journey. If you were capable, you were allowed to climb the Pyramids to the top and look across the jungle. You could see the other tops of the pyramids poking through the jungle canopy, and even see Guatemala many km’s in the distance.

The buildings weren’t the only attraction here, the jungle itself was magnificent. There was a beautiful array of trees and plants and lots of wildlife around, especially when we got away from the noisy students that were visiting the same day. We managed to see two different species of monkeys, both from fairly close up. One of the monkeys showed me his balls, definitely on purpose, and then threw his half eaten fruit at me. I think it was a sign of affection. There were wild turkeys, numerous other birds, a tarantula and wild pigs to be seen as well. Other people saw a jaguar on the way in but we weren’t so fortunate. Having spent the majority of the day trekking around Calakmul, we were in a bit of a rush to get the hire car back to Chetumal. The good thing about Mexico is that there aren’t many police around on the open roads so you can drive pretty quickly when you need to. The bad thing is that when it rains, it comes down hard and fast and makes it difficult to see where you are going. We managed to get the car back without incurring any extra costs and eventually made it back to Kiichpam around 1am in the morning. All the costs and hassle involved was definitely worth it and we are talking about doing it again on route to our next destination.

Since then, the other volunteers have moved on to other places, as we had intended to do by now. Certain factors have kept us here, mainly waiting for a delivery to arrive and for Alex to finish a mural she has started. I have been occupying myself by making a promotional video for Kiichpam K’aax involving all the footage we have accumulated whilst staying here. If I can, I will post it online in the future or put a link to youtube so you can all fully appreciate how beautiful this place is.

We met a local taxi driver called Michel that Damian knows fairly well. His family owns land a couple of kilometres off the main road. This land is also an ‘Ejidos’ and was given to the family by the government. As you drive through the jungle, on the rocky tracks, you come to a couple of sheds and a beautiful lake. This lake stretches for 10km, maybe more, and is so remote and unknown, that it is not even visible on google maps. After collecting some fruit from the abnormally large palm trees, we stuck a rowing boat on the back of Damian’s truck and drove further down the lake. After going out for a little row, Venice style but with large tree branches as paddles, we put the boat back onto the truck got into the boat and drove further down the lake. We came out of the jungle to an opening with a couple of houses and an amazing view of the lake through the palm trees. Within a couple of minutes of arriving, I had climbed a tree and got enough coconuts for us all to drink and eat. According to Michel, he used to swim in the lake often when he was younger but we decided not to. It might have been due to the fact that as we arrived we saw alligators, or possibly due to the stories he told about the size of the alligators.

This was just a quick glimpse into how we have been spending our time here, and if you have made it this far, well done for not falling asleep. Once we leave here and find suitable Internet I will add pictures and probably more about words about Kiichpam K’aax. It truly has been absolutely amazing here, and it continues to be amazing still. It’s so amazing we are tempted to buy some Jungle off Don Sebero, but more details on that next time. My fingers are hurting.

Merry Christmas to you all, and a Happy New Year.

We arrived in Bacalar knowing it was going to be an intense first 5 days of volunteering. The Hostel we were helping at was turning into a Hotel with rooms starting at 60 US $ per night. Its first guests, a group of 11 Mexicans and 2 couples, were arriving on the 1^st of November. There was 5 days to get it ready and the place looked like a building site. It had no hot water, internet, windows or doors on some rooms, electricity, adequate bug prevention (i.e. walls) and no where for us to stay once the guests arrived. Let’s just say that it would have been possible to finish it in time in another country, but not in Mexico and definitely not in Bacalar. I have learned the way of life in Bacalar – Despacito, Tranquilo -basically really slow and relaxed. They use a word a lot, ‘ahorita’, which translates as ‘in a bit’, but the person saying it means ‘in 2 hours’ and it actually happens in 4 hours or maybe the next day, or maybe never.

There was a group of about 30 people working here to get it ready, and the one’s  I got a chance to ‘chat’ too were all really nice. That seems to be the general consensus of Mexicans. They are really happy, friendly people. All bar 4 of them spoke in Spanish with as much grasp of the English language as I do for the Spanish language. I now know the Spanish names for lots of tools and general stuff you use around a construction site but due to the lack of internet, I haven’t been able to progress my Spanish too much. Don’t get me wrong though, being immersed in a Spanish speaking area means I am picking things up, its just hard to know if what I am learning is correct and the mistakes and weird looks from locals are growing.

We were meant to be working 5 hours a day but within the first four days we had already worked almost 30 hours. We understood this was likely to happen, and wanted to help to get the hotel ready, but the intensity of the work and the hot and humid weather made it a thoroughly unenjoyable experience. We weren’t getting time to ourselves to enjoy the lake, the kayaks or the catamaran that were available to us. Even the dock on the lake wasn’t enough to supress the feeling we had. I eventually had words with Caro, the lady in charge, and we got our day off plus an extra one for the work we had done. She was a really nice girl who was having her own conflicts with the owner of the hotel. He was making her work pretty much from 7am to 3am most days. She was the same as us, a traveller, and like many others, she had come to Bacalar and never left. Everyone seemed to be on their way to Patagonia but had failed to leave Bacalar, some of them for 20 years plus!

We wanted to go out in a kayak to see the Lake Bacalar from a different perspective. This was Alex’s first time in a kayak and for some reason we thought it would be a good idea to head out as the sun was setting. Needless to say, my little torch did very little to guide us under the starry night sky and with it getting late, we opted to stop at a dock where we could see someone on the related building and ask where we were. We had managed to paddle about 2km past our dock, which was lucky because at first, through a misunderstanding, we thought it was 4km past our dock. We ended up being offered a lift home by a kind man, once he had finished his shower, with the kayak strapped to the roof of his car. When we got back to where we were volunteering, the sight of us coming home by road was enough to lift the mood of the remaining workers. Although my Spanish speaking is still poor, my understanding is clear enough to realise that, the next day, the guys working here were enjoying the story of our adventure from the previous night.

The experience improved once the guest arrived but we felt it was still time to move on to somewhere new. We got on very well with all the people there, especially Caro, and found it quite hard to tell her that we were leaving a little early. The place wasn’t quite ready to receive volunteers yet, but once it is, it would be a great place to go. That’s if Caro was still there. The next day, she quit and had her bags packed before we had ours packed. I feel slightly bad as it was the late night conversations with Alex and I that helped her make her decision. I think the decision she made was for the best as her time was being exploited and she wasn’t having much fun by herself. We ended up leaving before Caro in the end as the owner wanted her to tell him everything about every program used to run the business. She is probably still there now.

We arrived the next day in Mahahual, a Caribbean beach with a smaller town than Bacalar. The name might be familiar to those of you who have done a Caribbean cruise in the past. Mahahual is very similar to Bacalar with its slow way of life and relaxed attitude. It’s a place where not much happens, but when the cruise ship is in town, everything changes. The streets are lined with vendors selling anything you might need, prices change from Pesos to Dollars (and inflate a little bit too), bars start playing loud banging tunes and people are lining the street trying to drag you to their beach/bar/restaurant/stall or whatever they have to exchange for your dollars. Once the ship leaves port, it returns to the quiet, tranquil place it was before. We stayed in a cabaňa that was slightly over our budget but the cheapest accommodation we could find. It was very well located being the closest you could get to staying on the beach, without actually staying on the beach itself. The cabaňa was just a shed with a bed, with a narrow pathway next to the bed. It had a deck out front that looked onto the beach which was nice enough to sit on until the mosquitos started being a pest again.

We stayed in our little beach hut for 3 nights and spent 2 days on the beach, doing not a lot at all. It was nice and relaxing and a good recovery from the 5 days work we have done in the last 2 months. But as beautiful as the beach was, we need to move on. We decided to take the 2^nd choice of volunteering, the Eco-touristic Mayan Centre. It meant getting a bus back to Bacalar, waiting 3 hours, and then getting another bus towards Chunhuhub. The 2^nd bus driver was pretty clear that he didn’t want to drop us 10km short of Chunhuhub, not because he feared for our safety in the middle of no where, but because he was just being difficult. Eventually he got off his high horse and dropped us right outside where we were staying.

We were greeted at reception by Margerita, one of the senior ‘staff/family at the place, and she showed us to where we would be staying. The cabaňa had 2 rooms and a bathroom, with 3 double beds and 3 hammocks. We would be sharing with fellow volunteers who were here at K’iichpam Ka’ax, a mayan name I think translates as Selva Bonita, which translates as beautiful jungle. We waited around for a few hours by ourselves for Damian, the owner, to turn up and tell us what is going to be happening. When he did finally turn up, he started to chainsaw up a load of wood and kept us waiting longer. Eventually we sat down with Damian and Margerita and had what felt like an Interview, solely in Spanish. I didn’t know what was going on and no-one here spoke English.

We should be here for a fortnight minimum, so I will fill you in with the details once we have left. The Internet here is pretty bad and uploading a photo is impossible. Hopefully at the next place there will be enough internet to add some more pics.

Oh yeah, the news on the passport. Apparently they have cancelled my request for a new passport and my request to cancel my old passport. I think this means I can travel on with the passport in my possession, without the risk of being extorted or jailed, every time I cross a border. So good news!!

We decided to stay in the Cabanas Mecoloco, next to  ‘El Meco’ archaeological site, for an extra day seeing  as the Cabanas further up Isla Blanca were 1000 pesos a night (or $60). Basically, they are a rip off. We visited the Mayan site, built approximately 1400 years ago, and were amazed by the amount of Iguana’s that were everywhere. The main Pyramid and surrounding buildings were impressive too, with construction techniques and craftsmanship way ahead of its time. The site itself is relatively small in comparison to others throughout Mexico and Guatemala, but there was a huge amount energy coming from the area, and the pyramid itself was really intense.

Next we decided to go to Isla Holbox and what a brilliant idea that was. Holbox is a Caribbean paradise just 30 minutes by ferry from a small port called Chiquila. It’s beautiful place consisting of multiple islands, with the habitable part made entirely by sand, probably deposited by the currents sweeping up the Quintana Roo coast. The 2 main islands stretch 40km long and about 2-3km wide at its widest point.

As soon as you arrive in port, you are greeted by golf buggy taxi’s that ferry you on the sand roads. The majority of transport modes on the island are golf buggies, scooters or bicycles. Shoes are not necessary on Holbox and even flip-flops are an inconvenience. Originally a fishing island but now heavily supported by tourism, prices are quite expensive compared to the rest of Mexico, for a gringo at least. The cheapest private room we could find was 600 peso’s a night, way above our budget, so we decided on taking a hammock for 100 peso’s, to compensate for the price of food. We did spend one night in a private Cabana, due to the hammocks being full, which was incredibly beautiful but not that private and pretty humid. We managed to find local restaurants away from the main square which lowered our expenditure, and I went to the market every morning to buy ingredients for breakfast and improve my Spanish.

After one day on Holbox, or one cocktail in a hammock on the beach, we decided to ask about jobs on the island. Alex was offered 3 jobs in the first 3 places we asked but the wages weren’t enough to cover accommodation and when accommodation was offered, the hours were so long that we wouldn’t get a chance to see the island or each other. We looked elsewhere for jobs/volunteering, but decided we could come back next year if we wanted to, after we had seen more of Central America.

The best way to see the majority of the island and its non-human inhabitants is to take a tour from one of the many guides. Every single tour involves some kind of fishing, followed by cooking your catch at a camp on the uninhabited part of Holbox. Probably sounds amazing to most people but being a non fish eater myself, and travelling with a veggie, this wasn’t something we wanted. The only to get a non-fishing tour was to hire a private boat, setting you back 7000 peso’s. After searching every tour operator and getting the same outcome, we ate some churro’s and sulked on the side of the road. After a while sulking, I decided to go back to the first guy and see if I could get a good price on a private tour. As I entered his office, as if by chance, there were two Israeli guys with vegetarian girlfriends. They didn’t want a tour involving fishing either and I suggested the 6 of us shared a private boat. After a while of haggling, we managed to get it for 5100 peso’s. The next morning we saw dolphins, flamingo’s and went snorkelling with stingrays, tortoises and sharks (we didn’t see any sharks). The scenery and wildlife was so beautiful, it was worth the $50 each for a 6 hour tour.

During our 5 days on Holbox, I learnt that my blood is a delicacy, especially if you are a hungry mosquito. We went to watch the sunset from the western tip of the island but made it 100m down a track, away from the beach, before we were attacked from everywhere by thousands of the little biters. We both ran for our lives but they followed us the whole way. At least my skin is no longer white and pasty. I counted 14 bites on the front of my right thigh, which was coated in mosquito repellent and covered by my shorts. Fortunately the bite relief we had was pretty effective, we just needed another 10 bottles of it!

We left Holbox on the Saturday to head for Tulum, a place built around, and famous for its Mayan ruins. The journey involved a ferry back to the mainland followed by a 2-3hr Collectivo ride. A Collectivo is a mini bus where you share the price with whoever else is going in the same direction. We stayed in a relatively cheap hostel and met a random assortment of nice people from all over the world. During the night’s, we tended to stay at the Hostel and have a few beers and shared the responsibility of cooking food for everyone. This saved us a bit of money, which was nice because our budget had been blown completely out of the water. Fortunately the rest of Mexico can be 50% cheaper if not a third of the price of the Quintana Roo region.

During the days, we visited the Tulum Ruins, went to the beach (which was pretty special again) and went to dry caves and an underground cenote. Fortunately for us, there was a Mexican staying at the hostel that was very well travelled, in Mexico especially, and the rest of the world too. One of his jobs involved taking people on tours, some of which were to Cenote Caracol. This was a 3km walk on a narrow dirt road through the jungle just outside Tulum. Due to it not being close to the town, it meant it was pretty quiet and we were in fact the only people inside the Cave and cenote whilst we were there. It helped having Victor, our Mexican friend. Through the jungle we were getting information about everything around us and were even told stories and Mayan folklore. He took us through the Cave system first, again giving us info on anything he saw. The whole of the land in this area is made from limestone, so apart from being really hard to grow food on, it meant the caves had beautiful stalagmites, stalactites and just incredible surface patterns.

After the cave was the cenote. You had to through a hole in the earth, down about 30 steep steps to get to the main body of water. The water was really clear but there was very little light in the cenote itself. Above our heads was the cave ceiling, littered with stalactites, bats and the only light inside was artificial and fairly sparse in most areas. Victor guided us through the cave system, squeezing through narrow passages and sometimes having to duck through tunnels where the water level was touching the roof. It was such an amazing sight that we could never had experienced if it wasn’t for Victor’s knowledge and guidance.

Having spent way too much recently, it was about time we did some volunteering. We needed to save some money by working 5hrs a day, for 5 days, and in return we would get accommodation, breakfast and lunch, and normally a chance to learn local cultures or use the places facilities. We applied to 3 different places and 2 got back to us within a few hours. One was in a Mayan village in the Jungle and the other was at a Hostel/Hotel in Bacalar. We decided to go to Bacalar, a small town next to a humongous piece of water, coloured beautifully in a variety of shades of blue and green.

Yet another place of paradise awaiting our arrival.

 

Its coming to the end of our third day on Mexican soil and a thunder-storm is illuminating the sky. I’m currently lying in a hammock, between two palm trees, deafened by the flora and fauna going nuts around me.  It’s been quite an ordeal to get to this stage, and the difficulties might not be over yet, but it has been worth it and it will continue to be so. Let’s go back to where it began.

The flights were booked, as where two nights in downtown Cancun, and we were getting ready to prepare ourselves. We had to enter our Advanced Passenger Information for the flights, which involved Passport information but my Passport was nowhere to be seen. It was 6 days before the departure day so slight panic set in. The next day I was delivering a table football to a friend’s farm before proceeding to have a barn party on said farm. I was also taking all my belongings, which I couldn’t bear to sell or discard of, to the parent’s house (Hi Mum and Dad!). Instead of packing my bag and sorting my belongings, I spent hours and hours turning my bedroom and house upside down in search of the much needed Passport. It was nowhere to be seen.

I arrived at the Casey’s Barn Party, five hours late, under prepared and ready to forget about my Passport problems and enjoy a night with my close friends for the last time in 6 months (hopefully). Everyone I spoke to, after the initial shock and laughter at my expense, all reassured me I could get a new Passport in a day. They were all wrong. If you are renewing your passport, you can get it in a day. If you have lost it, the fastest service is 7 days from your appointment and it can take 3 days to get an appointment. Slight panic turned to near meltdown. I turned the whole house upside down again and still nothing. I rang multiple companies where I could have potentially used my Passport as I.D but to no avail. I even went back to the Hippodrome to see if I had left it there when I photocopied it 3 months back. This proved a fruitless search too and was my last port of call.

No passport in my possession, means no travel for me for at least a week and it was now Tuesday afternoon, 2 days until my flight. I wasn’t the only person affected by this. We were both homeless as of the morning of the flight, and if we wanted to travel for 6 months, a week extra in London meant a month less travelling. If she went by herself then I would never find her once I finally got out there as ‘yo non hablo espanyol’. I was also afraid for her to be alone in a whole new world.

I didn’t want to contact the Passport Office beforehand as they would cancel the Passport and there was still a chance it might be found, but now I had to. I asked advice first, realised I was up shit creek without a paddle, so had to get an appointment for a new Passport. The first available appointment was 1 day after my flight. Reality set in and the charm/waterworks came out. I managed to get a supposed cancelled appointment for Wednesday, 1 day (or 20 hours) before the flight. There was a slim chance that I would get a call back the same day but from what the lady in the Passport Office said, I had more chance winning the lottery, 3 times in a row.

Our supposed last night in London meant our packing was interrupted by our friends who wanted to have some drinks and say goodbye. They all came to our house and helped themselves to all the free stuff we were trying to get rid of and said goodbye with a few drinks. It was a weird occasion as both of us weren’t too happy with the situation but there was nothing that could be done. It was like I was a friend saying goodbye too but without the enthusiasm and excitement of everyone else.

It was approximately 1am and time for Daniel Harris, a.k.a ‘SuperDan’, to take centre stage.  He held up an envelope he found on lying on the sofa and said it feels like a Passport in here.  I told him that it’s not funny. He wasn’t joking. I looked in the envelope and there was my Passport (which I had cancelled 12 hours earlier). Glistening under the lounge fairy lights, it was like we had found the Holy Grail. Apparently this envelope had fallen from a shelf earlier and fell behind the sofa. Someone saw it happen and picked it up and put it on the sofa. Prior to that, the envelope had been spotted by others, but it’s rude to look in someone’s mail so it had just been left lying there. Thank you Dan for being bored, inquisitive or whatever it was that made you touch that envelope and notice the Passport.

The problem now was that the Passport in my hand was, under my request, to be cancelled and a new one was on its way. It was 1am and there was no way of contacting the Passport Office, not until 8am. Our flight was 9:30am and the decision, which was easy, was to go to the airport and contact them there, leaving 30 minutes to try to cancel my new Passport request and fly away as if nothing had happened. Unfortunately, we weren’t ready to leave as I was going to sort everything out at home whilst I was waiting for my new Passport. We stayed up all night sorting and packing and had 20 minutes to spare before we had to leave. Certain friends and housemates were amazing in offering help and assistance, otherwise we would never have left.

We arrived at the airport with time to kill, too much time. I finally got through to the right people at 8:01am and they advised that my Passport was still valid but it might get cancelled any time now. Obviously I went through the check in gate, dropped off my luggage and waited in the departure lounge. Our plane was delayed by 3 hours due to someone driving into the plane and then the replacement plane sent from Manchester had a malfunction upon arrival. All these issues led me to believe that it wasn’t going to be and once I arrived in Mexico, they would scan my Passport, realise it was cancelled, and send me home. Or worse, stick me in a Mexican jail. I nervously made it through Mexican border control without any problems, except for my Spanish, and now I can enjoy myself. There is a chance that I can’t ever leave Mexico now, but I’m hopeful that I can sort something out before it comes to that. I’m currently awaiting a call from the Passport Examiner to tell me if he can stop the cancellation of my Passport, which is unlikely but I can only hope.

We exited the Airport knowing we were about to get ripped off. My pale white skin was like a flashing beacon saying, “come get your dollars here”. We managed to haggle the taxi driver down but realised the next day that we were still ripped off. The same happened with our pre-booked but unpaid accommodation, but we were both tired and couldn’t be bothered to argue that much. Fortunately one of us is a very good speaker of Spanish, otherwise we would have paid more.

We arrived quite late to a little Hacienda in downtown Cancun, away from the Zona Hotelera, where all the tourists go. It was a brilliant decision. Prices were way cheaper and people were actually friendly, and not just because they want your money. We more or less went straight to bed so we could recover and enjoy the next day. We decided the next day to take an hour walk and find a beach, again away from the Hotel Zone and tourist traps. The weather was ridiculously hot and the air was full of humidity. We found some good food and met some nice locals (I think), who only spoke Spanish. The next day we put our bags on and made the journey to a campsite with Cabanas, just next to ‘Zona Arqueologica El Meco’. And that is where I am now, lying in a hammock, 5 metres from a Mayan structure, watching a thunderstorm in the distance.

Tomorrow, which is now today as its taken me ages to write this, we will visit the actual Mayan site next door to the Cabanas. After that, we are going to head further up the Isla Blanca to some more Cabanas that reside on lush white beaches. We are looking to relax for a few days and try to not spend any money. Our budget is quite strict and we have been a bit silly for the first few days. As for now, I’m gonna take a shower and get my day started. Catch you soon!