The Enchantment of Tikal

Wednesday March 2. We packed up and headed to San Pedro Sula and the Guatemala border. We planned a lunch rendezvous with Rosel’s sister Remy.  Remember the Claro phone we bought in Costa Rica? We tried to use it in Nicaragua to call Honduras but it didn’t work. We tried to activate it in Leon, Nicaragua, but the clerk said we’d have to buy another SIM card, which is contrary to what we were told in Costa Rica. So When we were downtown yesterday we went to a Claro store. The greeter told us we’d have to buy a new SIM card for Honduras, but I persisted and was eventually handed over to a sales associate who confirmed that the CR SIM card was supposed to work in Honduras once we activate it. But he couldn’t get it to work. What he ended up doing as a work around was give us a Honduras SIM card for calls in Honduras, and said our CR SIM card will work to call the US. We haven’t tried that yet, but we did use the Honduras SIM to call Remy in San Pedro Sula. She suggested that we meet at Maria’s, a fish restaurant at lake Johoa on the highway to San Pedro Sula. We found the lake on the map. It is huge! We came to the near end of the lake and found three restaurants called Las Marias #1, #2 and #3. The name was not an exact match and it was a long way from San Pedro Sula, so we continued down to the far end of the lake where the hotels are to see if there is a Maria’s there. We got off on the wrong road, and had to backtrack, then called Remy, and agreed that we’d looked for a hotel or someplace to stop and ask directions, and were told that the

Lunch with Remy in San Pedro Sula

Las Marias #1,2 and 3 back at the beginning of the lake is all there is. So we called Remy again. When she said it would take her 1.5 hours to get there I said we prefer not to wait; we prefer to meet somewhere in San Pedro Sula. With the help of the out-of-date travel guide and maps.me, we navigated to a fish restaurant in San Pedro Sula, called Remy, and she found us within 15 minutes. The ceviche and Paella was mediocre, but the company was good!

There is a relatively new highway and border crossing between Honduras and Guatemala on the Caribbean coast, between the port cities of Puerto Cortes and Puerto Barrios. It was a lovely drive and exciting to see the Caribbean Sea! And it was the easiest border crossing ever! A single outpost so no confusion. No line. No money. No fumigation. The Hondurans checked our fingerprints, stamped our passports, and took our car papers. Eight km later the Guatemalans stamped our passports and stamped to reactivate our car papers. All in less than 30 minutes, including the drive through no-mans-land. And they were very pleasant, friendly people.

We asked for advice on a safe place to park for the night. They said to park in a gasolinera, and that Rio Dulce was a nicer (and safer) place than Puerto Barrios. Rio Dulce is a lake/river/lagoon system off the Caribbean and a major moorage for yachts. It was a longer drive, after dark, on bad roads, with truck traffic, than we would have liked, but was the best option. As we approached town there was a sign for a Puma gas station off the road, so I said let’s try that. The road lead to a marina gate with a security guard. I told him we were looking for gas and a place to sleep. He said yes: sign the book and check in at the office. So we car camped at the biggest, fanciest marina in Rio Dulce! Ask and ye shall receive! Not only was it scenic dock front, but there was a little store, and nice bathrooms with hot water showers, and an ATM machine. And the security guard walked by every 20 minutes. We celebrated with rum. Sharman drank too much, too fast, with too much ceviche and pistachios, and got sick…

Thursday March 3. There was a tropical rain storm overnight, and it rained hard several times again during the day, but the morning was pleasant and we walked around town looking for a bakery. We

Rio Dulce, Guatemala

eventually found a Spanish bakery but it was closed: we were told it doesn’t open until 3pm.  So we settled for a small local bakery with the usual sweet breads.  Walking over the bridge and through the neighborhoods was scenic: river front restaurants and benches, a herd of tourist launches at the ready, a flock of sailboats anchored out, a slew with a ramp serving the hardware store, the high school band practicing under the bridge, a colorful children’s playground, and a back street offering a mix of tin-roofed wood houses with laundry out to dry and nice stucco homes with gardens and gated driveways.

Our destination for the day was the famous archaeological site of the great Mayan city of Tikal, five hours further north. Along the way we took a little side tour along the shore of Lago Peten Itza, the

The entrance gate to Tikal, Guatemala

second largest lake in Guatemala and a major site for recreation and tourism. We arrived at the Tikal Park gate about 4pm, only to discover that we did not have enough Quetzales to pay the entrance fee, and they do not take dollars or credit cards. Fortunately, we talked a small store owner into changing a US$20. He gave us a bad rate and balked at the tiny tear on the edge of the bill, but we truthfully asserted it was the only dollars we had, and he accepted it. So we had enough to get in the gate, and enough left to buy a beer at the souvenir and refreshment stand where the workers were relaxing at the end of the day. To economize and avoid the noisy neighbors we skipped the designated campsite and stayed in the parking lot.

Friday March 4. We were up at 6 and into the Tikal archaeological park by 7:40. It was an enchanted landscape! Monumental ruins, some more disheveled and overgrown than others, rising out of the

Enchanted Tikal

forest mist. Lots of scrambling and exploring to do; very few interpretive signs to activate the brain. The clouds burned off about 10, around the time more tourists showed up. Among them were birders who happily shared their sightings, binoculars and photos. Perched high above the canopy on Temple IV enjoying the territorial view, we all sighted a rare orange breasted falcon perched on a branch, dismembering a bird it had killed. We saw a toucan flying, several more colorful birds I can’t name, and hoards of very noisy green parrots.  One of the more curious things we saw were a series of six-inch wide cleared paths on the

What kind of hawk or falcon is this?

forest floor. We later discovered that they are ant super-highways, and when in active use they are filled with ants carrying leaf fragments back to the nest, and empty handed ants going the other direction.

We were ready to be done about 3pm, and headed out to the crocodile pond, souvenir shops and museum. Which turned out to be of limited interest because we didn’t see any crocs and the museum was mostly about the restoration work. It started to rain about 4, just when we were leaving.

We back-tracked to check out the tourist town of Flores, an island in Lake Ixtalan with one small bridge from the town of Santa Elena. It was very picturesque, with a street around the perimeter

Flooded street in Flores

—flooded in part by the high lake level—and narrow streets and pedestrian paths up the hill in the center. It was raining, but we were happy to explore with umbrellas for shelter. The restaurant we chose for our evening beer had ratatouille on the menu, so we ordered some as an appetizer. It was so fabulously delicious we decided to forego the can of lentil soup in the van and blow our budget of Quetzales (Guatemalan currency) on fresh local fish, baked in paper. The fish was very good, but the sauce was exquisite. We complimented the chef and asked about his training. His parents are Italian and he had trained in Europe. His artistic attention to detail showed in the décor of the small dining room as well.

We slept in the van on a quiet street by the lake.