Sofia, a waitress in a restaurant in Guatemala City told us about El Mirador as one speaking the Dorado. Almost in whispers told us that was the greatest legacy of the Maya, that beyond Tikal, hidden in the Peten jungle, have its ruins, engulfed by weeds, a city larger than Chichén Itzá, Palenque oldest, most forgotten that all.
Before taking the dessert we had decided that if, would travel there.
Where roads just north of Guatemala adventure begins. We had to hire a full service including twelve mules, a guide named Alex Main, two support guides, three men in charge of setting up camp and a plump lady who ran a skinny cook chicken and rice rations. Jose Luis and Alfonso (my colleagues in issuing A World Apart) completed the group.
We had to get into some 50 kilometers in the Peten jungle. We used to get around the trunks crossed on the way, to dodge trees and hear the stories of Alex. Everyone went to his own. Alex talking, another guide cutting the trunks of the road and recording from his mule Alfonso passing of the hours that rainforest.
The sudden chill in the morning and the sound of monkeys lurking camp revealed us several times
The first night we took refuge in a camp called Tintal, near some Mayan pyramids unrecognizable. Just climbing a small hill just one understanding that has risen to the top of a sacred temple. That night we slept in the open, under mosquito nets and lit by fireflies huge. The sudden chill in the morning and the sound of monkeys lurking camp revealed us several times. With his back ground and a brief breakfast we journey. The forest began to thicken and vegetation became more rugged, slowly choking the road. José Luis, Walter and I had fun doing races, pulling the ropes to drop them who came back and hitting the mules stampede outside to cause the poor animal and its rider startle. Yes, was of questionable ethics and no sense but had to fight boredom and increased back pain with some entertainment.
After two days enduring the trotting mules appeared an almost illegible sign announcing that mysterious place of which I spoke in a restaurant in Sofia Guatemala City: The Lookout.
The first feeling is special about this Mayan city is that there is no one. Neither parking, not responsible, or security guards, or tour guides, or Japanese, not one clueless backpacker. Nobody. Surrounded by the quiet atmosphere rode a set of small temples with the unfortunate name of "The Dead", in grim reminder of an unhappy volunteer archaeologist who died of a snake bite. They were the first pyramids visible. The rest were hidden temples growing on moss, weeds and tree roots uncontrolled.
The first feeling is special about this Mayan city is that there is no one. Neither parking, not responsible, or security guards, or tour guides, or Japanese, not one clueless backpacker
We slept under a thatched shack sheet, involved in the nets on deck. The storm shut down the murmurs of the forest and the night we gave a concert of thunder that made us tremble.
Willing woke up early to visit the center of a city that reached 140.000 inhabitants long before it became the cornerstone in Tikal. It belongs to the Preclassic period, chronologically ambiguous definition that encompasses the 1.500 a.C. the 300 dC. Alex accelerated progress with the pride of an expert archaeologist.
It was time to approach the colossus maya: the pirámide of Danta, the highest of the Mayan world, most of America. After a hike started a new promotion for the jungle. There was nothing to imagine walking on a sacred temple. Then pronounced slope and clinging to ropes ascended by a wooden staircase. When you reach the last level suddenly discovered the tip of that iceberg stone. The last fifty feet were clean of weeds. The work of volunteers moved slowly but chisels have begun to clear one of the biggest mysteries of the Maya.
Seeing snakes stone masks decorating the top of the pyramid, one senses the formidable feat of engineering that has engulfed Petén jungle over the years. We were seeing only a small portion of the 79 meters of the giant full of hieroglyphs and deities in relief. We climbed from the scaffolding to the top of the Danta. From there it is easy to understand why the city is called El Mirador. The green horizon stretching in all directions. Actually was once a city connected by stone walkways with many other stocks they only know that they are there, somewhere under the trees. It is estimated that El Mirador has discovered a 1% of the total surface. Definitely the most daunting is to imagine the invisible part of the civilization that the forest has not wanted to return.
At that moment I could not help feeling an archaeologist against historical truth in its purest.
The loneliness of the place allowed us access noncustodial some valuable relics. Alfonso, Alex and I went down this time into another pyramid lit a small torch and lantern. In the tunnels lacked biggest cockroaches I have ever seen or snakes winding through the floor. That place certainly generated a suspense suitable for hiding treasure: a mask representing a huge bird head and kept the red pigments that was decorated with. The temperature of that claustrophobic passageway far exceeded the 40 º C, and could barely hold his breath for the thrill of being contemplating that original piece, with its original color in its original location. We were extremely respectful not to contact if you want the sculpture that will someday be in major art museums, but at that moment I could not help feeling an archaeologist against historical truth in its purest.
Toucans flew out with no idea of the special place that lived. Jose Luis was not sufficient to photograph contrails, monkeys, lizards and pyramids. I think everyone enjoyed the final analysis of our particular Golden.
