The island of Flores lies in the southwestern corner of Lake Peten Itza... very tidy, very clean, beset with pleasing red tile roofs... a secluded haven. Restaurants and hotels overlook the water... something inviting... thatch roof boats move from shore to shore... an easy and idle paradise... low, lush hills flanking the edges. The island of Flores is so tranquil and unthreatening, it could be a resort. 500m down the causeway, over the water lies Santa Elena... another world... rushing with smoke and smells and traffic... a black, growling smog about it all.
We arrived in Flores from Belize... Katriona, the Dutchman and I. We found ourselves a hotel... The Toucan... so named for its resident of the same species... Kiko, the bright billed Toucan hopped from perch to restaurant to bar... clicking and cocking his head... inquisitive. He was a continual source of entertainment for the tourists... a permanent object of attention. Still, it was never enough for Kiko... he was a little son of a bitch like that... he'd come biting at your ankles, your arms, your neck... he'd empty out the ash tray in front of you, toss your lighter to the floor. Kiko reprimanded a lot... they'd come at him with a broom. We checked in, then ate, swam and idled. We had a couple of days like that... doing nothing... enjoying the views and the sunshine. Then we got ourselves together for an expedition to Tikal.
Tikal is a sizable archeological site and a city that played a significant political role during 'Classic' times. During the Early Classic, Tikal came to dominate the Maya world through trade and conquest and it possessed significant ties with Mexican Teotihuacan. After a three hundred year rise, Tikal's leadership began to decline. Several other centres rose to the fore (Tikal, though, remained a religious and economic focus... home to Mayas oldest unbroken dynasty. In fact, Tikal is today a shrine to many contemporary Maya). Tikal's fall from dominance may be connected to Teotihaucan's increasing inability to control the area. In any case, the late Classic era saw the rise of several smaller states including Palenque, Calakmul and Copan. Tikal too, regained some of its former glory through a programme of cultural revitalisation... it served as a primary centre for the central and nothern region in what is now Guatemala, that is the Peten. Never again though, did it wield power as during its height in the 'early classic'. Tikal is located in the Peten rainforest, 71km north of Flores.
The great plaza lay some way from the entrance. We followed a root strangled path... walls of wet, enveloping vegetation around us... curving slightly, the first glimpses of grey stone... and then we emerged. The great blackened structures rose tegal and imposing... twin pyramids of the Grand Plaza... climbing steeply to 40m... steps worn and erratic... meeting with temples above the canopy... immense and crumbling roof ornamentation. Complexes lay to the north and south... cut away platforms beset with stairs and buildings and pyramids... courtyards, rooms, passages... Spanish moss all around... swaythes... red, spidery plants bursting... all around, exotic birds sang. It took us a day to see the site... and then only partially. Tikal was as extensive as it was grand... manifold plazas, temples, acropoli... seperated by paths and steps... and each complex as intriguing as the last... we hiked from ruin to ruin through the shade of dense greenery. Temple IV stood the highest... 64m up... a scrabble on stairs and ladders... up through the folliage, and the forest stretched below... in the distance, crowning temples reached above branches.
Towards dusk, the Dutchman, Martyn and I hiked out to complexes M, P, H... a kilometre down the track... devoid of tourists. High up in the trees, a colony of spider monkeys was in transit... climbing out to the edge of branches, they leaped across... from tree to tree they moved... traversing the distance in that manner. When the monkeys had gone, we had a wander around. Approaching a low, dark pyramid, two black vultures swept out of nowhere... rushed past us... soared up the facade. They settled at the top of the steps... on a wall before the door to the temple... one on each side, guardians. We ascended slowly and stopped right in front of them... they didn't seem too disturbed. We watched them a while, intrigued... they were big and ugly. Then Martyn pointed out this long, black feather on the wall. It was very clean and beautiful and I wanted it. I told Martyn this, and the vulture snatched it up right away... tore it to pieces with its beak. It was curious. We both crept back down and the vultures took off... I took my chance to run back up and inspect the feather. The moment I picked it up, the guardians returned... they came gliding... dark and ominous... I dropped the feather and retreated.
That night we stayed at a camping near the site... hung hammocks under a shelter. Martyn and I played chess by the light of the shithouse... the only light around... then retired to our respective places in a long line of mosquito nets. The entire hammock area was like a giant, twisted web. Katriona and I shared a space... it wasn't too comfortable... neither of us could stretch much... it was very cramped. During the night, several noises woke us. The girl in the next hammock, she gave a little moan each time a new one encroached. First came the insane cricket... impossibly piercing... it screamed with two different tones... one in each ear! The noise was really maddening. Then came the howler monkeys... some afterdark opera of roars and groans... echoing deeply and from afar. The girl in the hammock whimpered. Finally, towards dawn, the birds set in. I got up then and lit a cigarette.