La Dulce Vida : Mayan Adventure: Río Dulce and Flores

After nearly five hours on a bumpy, four-wheel-drive-only backroad we descended into the lush river basin of Río Dulce, Guatemala’s most pristine river that flows into the Gulf of Honduras. Our shuttle driver dropped Alex and I, along with the enjoyable Australian couple we shared the ride with, off at our stay for the night, Hotel Backpackers. This old, rickety wood structure is planted firmly on the banks of the river and is run by orphans in which all the proceeds made at the hotel go to support. Not long after our arrival a massive, unseasonal rainstorm hit and the clear sound of rain steadily falling on the rusty, tin roof and pattering on the palm leaves outside our room quickly lulled both of us into a glorious nap. We were awaken by loud music coming from the hotel’s restaurant and, after deciding it was about feeding time again, made our way to dinner. Little did we know the restaurant’s loud music was accompanied by swarms of vacationing Guatemalan’s dancing salsa and merengue to the club-like music and quaffing Gallo by the gallons (Gallo is the Guatemala beer equivalent to that of Bud Light… tasteless and ubiquitous.) It was like Dinner and a Show! We spotted the Australian couple across the restaurant and ended up spending the rest of the night with them sharing wine, stories, and a lot of laughs… not to mention proudly representing the only Gringos in the joint.

Rollin' down Río Dulce

We woke up early on Thursday morning and despite the unrelenting rain hopped aboard a lancha headed for the coast town of Livingston. The hour and a half boat ride left us soaking wet but absolutely astonished by the beauty that is Río Dulce – no wonder it’s named Sweet River. We motored along, admiring the green, dense hills that greeted the riverbanks and the white chalk-like cliffs peppered with topical plants and trees that boarded the jade-green water. Various species of seabirds swooped, dove and glided over the water in search of food. When our boat popped out into the bay, it was as if we were no longer in the dry, hectic Guatemala we’ve come to know: we were transplanted in the vibrantly colorful, sailboat-laden, palm-tree-rich Caribbean town of Livingston.

Livingston, Guatemala

Gulf of Honduras

Livingston is unique to Guatemala not only because of its beautiful location (which is only reachable by boat) but it’s also home to the Garifuna people. Garifunas are black-skinned, Caribbean descendants who, when the Spanish invaded the Caribbean, sought refuge on the shore of Guatemala. They have their own language, also called Garifuna, and do not consider themselves Guatemalans.

After docking, Alex and I meandered through the colorful streets and soaked our feet in the warm, Caribbean waters, soaking in Livingston’s unusual culture. Upon our search for lunch we were greeted by a friendly, English speaking, Garifuna man who insisted we eat in the Garifuna village and try some typical cuisine. An hour later we were slopping up a delicious bowl of Tapado and savoring the flavorful Pescado Frito. All the while talking to our new friend about the history and culture of Livingston. With full, happy stomachs we hobbled our way back through the lively town to meet our boat and headed back up the enchanting river to Río Dulce.

Rope swinging in Flores

Beautiful town of Flores

Sunset over Lago Peten Itza

That evening we caught a local bus up to the lake-island town of Flores, a major hub for people visiting the popular Maya ruins of Tikal. With our Tikal tour scheduled for Saturday, we’d initially planned on just kickin’ back on the docks and getting a feel for Flores on Friday. That was, until a couple at our hostel told us about a crazy waterslide and rope swing we should visit. Being the big-thrill type of people we are, Alex and I took them up on their suggestion and on Friday afternoon, after paying for an overpriced lancha, were toted across the lake to the Zoological Park and home of this “crazy waterslide.” Upon our first go at the waterslide, we quickly realized that no warning from our friends could have prepared us for the pure extremeness of this slide. I am, in no way, exaggerating when I say that this slide was, hands-down, the fastest, most terrifying waterslide I have ever been on in my life. It wasn’t steep, there was only one big curve, and hardly any water was being drizzled down, so it remains a mystery as to how or why this slide was so ridiculous. There are no words suitable enough for this experience – please refer to the video for a better idea. Our extreme afternoon left us wiped and considering we had two-thirty AM wake-up call for our sunrise tour of Tikal, we called it a day shortly after the breathtaking sun set over Lago Petén Itzá.

Temple III in the moonlight

Two-thirty came awfully early but was totally worth it as our group set foot on the sacred Mayan grounds in the coal-black of early morning. We walked through the park for nearly a half an hour, spotting massive ruins outlined by the light of the moon as we went. The eerie silence only added to the magic of the experience… that is, until the Howler Monkeys began their morning cry. If you’ve ever heard a Howler, you will understand when I say that, upon the monkey’s first shrill, I screamed and ran in whatever direction was opposite of the terrifying sound. To give you an idea of what this unimaginable roar sounds like, I can tell you that the producers of Jurassic Park combined the howl of a howler monkey with the roar of a lion to create the sound of T-Rex. This initial bellow thundered through the jungle sparking a chorus of howls that lasted until just after the sun rose. Our guide informed us that the monkey’s howl is considered the “Jungle’s Alarm Clock” because they begin their cry every morning at five-thirty on the dot.

Sunrise over Tikal

Minutes after sunrise

Beautiful, wild toucans

As dawn broke, our group climbed to the top of one of the tallest temples in the Mayan world, Temple IV, and settled our eyes on the eastern horizon as the sun crept closer to our special spot in the world. I will never forget the tranquility I experienced sitting atop that Temple, as howler monkeys called forth the sun and dense fog lifted from the jungle’s canopy. Just as the big, grapefruit sun broke the surface of the horizon, a flock of wild, vibrant toucans settled in a nearby tree to admire Mother Nature’s show. It was truly remarkable.

Mama and baby Spider Monkey

Temple III

Our guide led us from temple to temple until we were set free to explore the park on our own. Considering it was only about eight in the morning, we still had most of the park to ourselves which made the experience that much cooler – instead of feeling like just another tourist, it was like we were exploring these ruins for the first time. Bopping around from ruin to ruin, as Spider Monkey mothers and their babies fed in the tree tops above us, and the heat of the day grew more intense was definitely a highlight of our Guatemalan adventure. And while I will recommend Tikal to anyone visiting Guatemala, there is something about the park that is a bit disappointing. There are over seven thousand temples and ruins in Tikal but only a handful have been excavated because the government doesn’t have money to spend on excavations. I could only imagine the treasures to be found in the thousands of uncovered ruins – for all we know, one of them could contain an artifact that says, “Just kidding, the end of the world actually isn’t until 2021. Turns out the sculptor of our calendar had a hint of dyslexia.”

Infront of the Grand Plaza

My personal favorite - Temple V

Alex in front of Temple II

As you can tell, our big Mayan adventure and Semana Santa travels were, yet again, quite incredible. One Pacific Coast, one mountain cave, a handful of limestone pools, one sweet river, one Caribbean coast, hundreds of Mayan ruins and forty-four total hours of bus riding later, and we’re back in Xela.