It was just a road. A creased line joining two points. Nothing. A twisting line. she was beautiful, different. A line. Nothing.
We leave San Cristóbal de las Casas. Bella City, of cobbled pedestrian streets, old houses that forget secrets, chrome churches and masses of tourists who camouflage the sadness of knowing that the Maya, old owners of everything, They are only sad rows of street vendors. Mothers load with children, small, who roam up to time with their roasted faces and big eyes, trying to win some pesos with which to deceive hunger.
We then head the Camino de Comitán road and when we spend this careful city we turn a narrower path, the so -called border road or 307, that was discovered a sweet chiapas, rural, calm. Blue mixed in many places up and down. Chiapas has a blue water like sky and a blue sky like water.
The people moved delicately, as with fear of awakening in their shadows
There are waterfalls everywhere. In the Lagunas de Montebello it seemed to us that the color of the liquid was so dense that we doubted if it was a turquoise and green asphalt. It seemed still grass that rocked with some strange wind blow. On the sides there were large trees or grass. The people moved delicately, as with fear of awakening in their shadows, and the houses, Many colors, They had pots in their windows that climb flowers.
Halfway we saw a standing man looking at the infinity from a balcony of earth and stone. We woke us curious and we put ourselves by his side with the doubt of whether our eyes would cover so much effort. On the other side were the mountains of Guatemala. It was not far, The man told us with a finger and seemed that he caressed those peaks. The problem is that under us there was a pronounced slope and a river by which water, again intense blue, fled from large rocks. The eye of water was called that place and the man, that he kept looking at everything memorizing him for the umpteenth time to remember when he forgets, said: “You can go down. Below the river is prettier. These are the most beautiful cataracts of Chiapas ". And we believed him, But when we looked down and up we did a calculation to the eye and decided that the night would fall before wetting a foot. We decided to continue.
Then we began to go down and climb some slope and to lose ourselves in lines in which there was nothing that were not absences, leaves and few feet. We pass some military control and turn six hours after starting everything on the left. "Are they going to the macaws? Be careful on that road, There are parts where the asphalt has collapsed ", A soldier told us as he pointed our names to explain that two passed by two that may not return.
We bathe in the waters of the jungle, next to a water jump
Little by little we were then contouring the Lacandona jungle, Our first stop. And there we find a bed, A restaurant and a boat. The last one helped us to get into the Lacantún River. The world then turned six months and returned to my Africa, a mis safaris. And we saw monkeys and crocodiles. And we didn't see the jaguar and tapir that we dream so much. And we bathe in the jungle waters, next to a water jump. And the world seemed especially kind to me. And at night we slept under the cry of the howlers, more powerful and close that I never listened to a lion in the jungle. I think I slept six hours that were equivalent to five years.
After, next morning, We follow that line, that now turned north. And we reach the Mayan ruins of Yaxchilán. On the other side of the Ribera del Río Usumacinta is Guatemala. "This is the most caudalous river in the world", The boatman told us. It is not, It is only Mexico and the longest in Central America, But the boatman had the right to think that the world ends there or, at least, I should do it. Because the ruins are accessed after an hour of boat in which large crocodiles are also observed. There, in the middle of a jungle that for years ate it all, an old and splendid Mayan city is visited from between the 350 the 810 dC. What is contemplated is the little proportion that has been managed to win the jungle, Most houses and palaces are still there, hidden for man and abode even of his old marcas.
An old and splendid Mayan city is visited from between the 350 the 810 dC
Then they play more ruins, those of Bonampak, where the walls still retain chrome paintings and where the Lacandonas Indians still retain their jungle, as owners, as owners of everything. And one can stay there for a hundred nights or follow the line and stop in that secret that is halfway the hidden valley hotel. A little later, left, There are some cataracts that costs to give their track for not corrupt: Roberto Barrios. Wild, Beautiful and with no one. You have to deviate 14 kilometers and a place as beautiful as the famous blue and tourist waterfalls is reached. There we also bathe alone, Under the shower of one of his water jumps, wishing to be able to live like this a thousand mornings and one morning.
Then the line reaches the end, Even palenque. And there, In the beautiful Water Hotel, of ten rooms, narrow pool with green viewpoint and exterior bathtubs where the iguanas enter, We spent some nights. And we saw his imposing ruins one morning that there was no one, And we ate at the newly created Bajlum restaurant, where after years of research they cook just like the Maya did a thousand two hundred years ago, And we had an uncontrollable desire, that I have not removed yet, to return to that line to start everything again.
