2 Days in one of Guatemala's finest national parks

How many people could fit in one minivan? This didn’t seem like such a tough equation. Yet, as people kept coming in one after one, I started to wonder when it would stop. All seats had been taken for a long while, even the ones next to the driver, and there was hardly any room left on the roof for more luggage. But the driver couldn’t turn people down when they had paid good money for this trip. Instead, he and his pals brought wooden benches, plastic chairs and basically everything they could cramp inside the minivan. In the end, no one could move a muscle but we would all leave Antigua as promised.

Day was still young when we left. Clouds were lingering over the city and over the volcanoes in the background. My eyes stuck around the cone of the Volcano del Fuego for a while. They would be long gone where I was headed, replaced by lush jungle and natural pools. My friends and I had seen the pictures of Semuc Champey on paper glass in all travel agencies across Antigua and we couldn’t wait to see this natural wonder with our own eyes.

It took a few hours for my legs to get sore. Luckily, the driver decided to stop the car at that very moment. He pulled up near a gas station, freed all the passengers, only eager to stretch their numb legs and arms. Then, he disappeared. That was common practice, apparently, although some of us started panicking a little until he came back a good thirty minutes later and hit the road again.

We had first planned to spend the night in Coban but we got it from the conversations buzzing around us that it wasn’t such a good idea and therefore started negotiating with the driver for him to take us to Lanquin. It took quite some persuasive skills but we managed to pull it off, perhaps thanks to the fact that one my friends was Mexican and pulled that ace up her sleeve. As we arrived in Coban, we rushed to our hotel to cancel the booking. The staff at the front desk was not helpful though and the longer it took, the more sweat ran down our spines as the bus driver had warned not to wait for us.

Ten minutes later, we were happier than ever to still be on that bus. Not even crossing a river on a sketchy ferry that was basically just a wooden board with a worn-out engine attached to it could upset us. Not even getting thrown on the back of a truck like cattle when we got to Lanquin could turn our spirits down either. One thing would turn out to be a big problem though. The hotel where we crashed did not accept credit cards. There was no ATM nearby. And of course, we had almost no cash money left.

That was quite a riddle. We had managed to gather enough to pay for the night but all we could afford for dinner was one dish, for the three of us. Finding out what to order turned out to be a heavy task since we had to make the best possible decision. Would a hamburger cut the deal? Was pizza a better option? In the end, we went for some spaghetti. Pasta was always a good choice. When our meal was over, we stole a couple slices of complimentary bread to try and not starve the next day. Although, considering how many bugs and spiders were in our room, we could be sure to have a full meal during the night.

We woke up with the sun the next day, our stomach growling like we expected them to. Yet, the landscape around us was so stunning that it made us forget everything. The hotel was sitting by the side of a river, nestled within a thick jungle resonating with cries of monkeys and birds. It was located next to the entrance of the Semuc Champey National Park and we only had to walk to access the park.

A couple of foreign tourists we had seen the night before, a Brazilian guy and his German girlfriend, caught up with us as we were walking to the park so we went straight to the Mirador viewpoint. The hike to the lookout was hellish as the ground was still muddy in the morning and the stairs seemed like they would never end. Getting to the top felt liberating and above all, the view on the Semuc Champey pools was so rewarding that we forgot all our hardships.

The river was making its way across the jungle, stretching out in the horizon like it couldn’t be stopped. From above, the turquoise natural pools and the brownish waters that kept them separate looked like a giant snake. Perhaps it was indeed an incarnation of the Quetzalcoatl, the “feathered-serpent” deity. Semuc Champey wasn’t just perfect on the eyes though, it was also the ultimate swimming pool, once we had managed to make it out alive of the slippery slopes leading from the Mirador to the pools.

Being back on the ground offered us a whole new perspective, uncovering waterfalls, creepers hanging from the trees and the endless playground that were the terraced natural pools. They were almost empty at the time since most visitors were busy exploring the Lanquin caves in the mornings. It made the pools even more welcoming, either for swimming or for enjoying a free foot bath through an all-natural fish pedicure.

We spent hours making the most of Semuc Champey until it was time to go back. As we reached our hotel, we thanked God we had arrived there when it was pitch black the night before. Otherwise, we would have noticed how shaky the bridge crossing the river was and how many boards were missing from its structure. The tourists that were busy jumping from that bridge to the river didn’t seem to care and neither did the locals. Shoeless kids were playing around without a second thought, climbing on the bridge cables.

The kids were still having fun when we went back at the end of the day, waiting for a car to take us to another hotel, along with our Brazilian and German friends. The ride was precarious. I was sitting on a plastic chair at the back of a truck, wondering if I would fall overboard at every bump on the road. The ride was supposed to be free too but of course it wasn’t. Through negotiating, once more, we found a way.

The next day, when it was time to say farewell, our new-found friends gave us a bag full of bread and pastries. Thanks to them, we had our first decent meal since we had gotten to that part of Guatemala. On that same night, in Flores, where ATMs where a thing, we happily ordered a full meal and thought about them with gratitude.

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