San Ignacio, in the Cayo region of Belize, is a lively agricultural centre set amid lush hills. It has a great fruit market, plenty of nice restaurants, and more than its fair share of colourful local characters. It’s proximity to many pristine areas of natural beauty, and to the Guatemalan border, makes it a perfect base for many interesting tours. After a relaxing first day spent checking out the town, sampling the local cuisine (a favourite pastime if you hadn’t already guessed) and getting ourselves organised we got up at the crack of dawn to visit the majestic Mayan ruins in Tikal, Guatemala. At the border, hundreds of Belizeans queued up to go into Guatemala and do their shopping. Little wonder since produce costs a third of what it does in Belize. “It’s not good for our economy though”, sighed the Belizean border official.
Tikal was a huge Mayan settlement, occupying an area over 100 square kilometres in size, and at its height home to up to 100,000 people. It is located in the heart of the jungle, and features many imposing structures – including some of the highest temples in the Mayan kingdom. We started by climbing Temple IV (also known as Temple of the Double Headed Serpent – a slightly more poetic moniker) which rises to a height of 70 metres. Standing at the summit we got an amazing panoramic view of the area, with the tops of other temples just about visible above the jungle canopy. For sci-fi fans out there, this vista was also used for part of the first Star Wars movie: apparently it represented the rebel base on the jungle moon of Yavin 4 (of course).
In the main plaza, Temple I (the Temple of the Great Jaguar) and Temple II (the Temple of the Masks) face each other, flanked on either side by the remains of administrative buildings. It is thought that Ah Cacao, who ruled over Tikal between 682-720 AD, built Temple I as a shrine to himself – his body was found underneath in a tomb laden with treasures. Archaeologists reckon that he was around six foot tall and lived until he was eighty-odd, a pretty god-like figure in a world where the average life expectancy was thirty years, and average height less than five foot! It is thought that he ordered Temple II to be built as an homage to his wife. Walking around these ancient buildings, with the howler monkeys screeching and thunder rumbling ominously in the background, was certainly an atmospheric experience. We returned to San Ignacio that evening tired but content. To honour Dave and Becky’s last night with us, we went to a great Indian-Belizean restaurant then stopped off at the ‘Faya Wata’ bar for a few jars. Thanks for a brilliant week guys!
The next day, to round off our Mayan explorations in style, we visited the caves of Actun Tunichil Muknal, which translates as Cave of the Stone Tomb. On arriving at the Tapir National Park we first trek for an hour through the jungle, wading across three rivers in the process. Our brilliant local guide points out various medicinal plants and herbs along the way. It’s amazing how a mass of greenery can really come to life with the benefit of some expert eyes. A favourite specimen was the ‘give and take’ – a tree covered with vicious thorns, but with a sap rich in antiseptics and antibiotics. He tells us that the British army, who do their jungle warfare training here, call it the ‘bastard tree’.
We reached a clearing by the river, donned helmets and head torches, then jumped into the water and swam into the mouth of a huge cave. After a few metres the ground rose up and we waded knee-deep in freezing water into the darkness. At the point at which the last rays of daylight were fading from our eyes, our guide told us to turn and look back towards the entrance of the cave. In the shadows created by formations of stalactites and stalagmites the profile of a Mayan chief could very clearly be seen. It was an almost uncanny resemblance. Our guide welcomed us into the sacred space of his ancestors and then invited us to turn off our head-torches. We lined up one behind the other, one hand on the shoulder of the person in front, and walked slowly into the cave in pitch darkness. At some point our guide begins speaking in Mayan, offering some words to the Gods, and the vibrant scent of crushed lime leaves filled the air. Then we became aware of music playing: it was our guide playing the stalactites as if they were a xylophone. I felt myself shivering, and not just from the cold.
The next three hours were truly exhilarating. We scrambled through tiny passages, sometimes chest deep in water, climbed stalactite formations, and stood within six inches of ancient Mayan artefacts and sacrificial remains. You just would not be able to do this in Britain (or many other places in the world!) We did not even have to sign an insurance waiver! It was a brilliant and magical way to round off our stay in the Cayo region, and an experience we felt very privileged to have had.
Our final stop in Belize is the village of Hopkins situated on the Caribbean Sea in the deep South of the island. To get there, we take three buses, an experience in itself. “Tourists”, advised a tamale seller in her lilting Creole accent, “behave like a local an don let anyone in front o you, or you gonna be standin dere all day. No smiles til you get dat seat!”. We travel down the Hummingbird Highway, a road that takes us through some of the most spectacular scenery in the country. Misty mountains rise above plains in every shade of green, and the road is lined with fruit trees and hard wood plantations. Hardly anyone lives here.
Hopkins is home to a community of Garifuna people, the direct descendants of Nigerian slaves who were shipwrecked on the island of St Vincent in the 1600s and then forcibly deported, eventually finding a safe refuge on the shores of Belize. They have a distinct language and customs, including incredible drumming rituals. Hopkins itself is tiny: essentially a dirt road a mile long lined with houses sandwiched by the sea on one side and a swamp on the other. The local people were very friendly and kind to us, and we happily wiled away a day shooting the breeze and watching the world go by. We also got to try some typical Garifuna dishes. Especially tasty was Hudutu - saltfish in a coconut milk broth, served with plantain mash and coconut bread. Yum.
Hopkins is home to a community of Garifuna people, the direct descendants of Nigerian slaves who were shipwrecked on the island of St Vincent in the 1600s and then forcibly deported, eventually finding a safe refuge on the shores of Belize. They have a distinct language and customs, including incredible drumming rituals. Hopkins itself is tiny: essentially a dirt road a mile long lined with houses sandwiched by the sea on one side and a swamp on the other. The local people were very friendly and kind to us, and we happily wiled away a day shooting the breeze and watching the world go by. We also got to try some typical Garifuna dishes. Especially tasty was Hudutu - saltfish in a coconut milk broth, served with plantain mash and coconut bread. Yum.
Our culinary tour of Belize complete, we caught a bus to Punta Gorda at the southern most tip of the country, then boarded the skiff for Puerto Barrios on the Guatemalan coast. Belize: small but most definitely beautiful.
Susie and Phil xxx
