It was a long journey here, to the Mexican town of Palenque, which sits in the lower foothills of the Sierra Madre mountain range. I caught a 10 a.m. boat out of Caye Caulker back to Belize city and then a 12:30 p.m. bus up to the Mexican border town of Chetumel (all of my border crossings were rather uneventful; I suppose this is a good thing, but then again I am always looking for adventure...). Arriving to the Chetumel bus station around 4:30 that afternoon, I wasn't quite sure where I wanted my next destination to be or whether to go to the mountains or the beach, but I decided on heading inland to Chiapas. There I could check out the ruins of Palenque and roam the city of San Cristobal de las Casas, a place in which every traveler I had met along my way had raved about. But unfortunately, that meant sitting in the bus station until my midnight bus was scheduled to depart.
What does one do while waiting in a Mexican bus station for 7 1/2 hours? In truth, I can hardly recall what I did. It's similar to when you have a several-hour layover in an airport, and somehow just find ways to pass the time; but then, when it's all over, you can't even remember what you actually did to amuse yourself. There wasn't much town around the station, and it was almost dark so my options were limited. I do know I spent a lot of time snacking. I found that I have a weakness for the numerous little tiendas set up in bus stations, full of eye-catching snacks like salted peanuts with a hint of lime flavoring, or the chocolate sandwich cookies with chocolate filling. Believe me when I say that the most exciting thing that happened to me that day was when the woman behind the counter in one of these tiendas informed me that they were open all night long.
Across the taxi-lined street from the bus station was a row of food stands selling the usual tacos and tortas. I hauled all my stuff over and chose one of the nearest ones with a girl who looked about my age running the show. I ordered three tacos and a Coca Cola, and took a seat at one of the plastic tables as I watched people go in and out of the bus station doors across the street. Something that seemed to happen more often than not in both Mexico and Guatemala (but more often in Guatemala), was that vendors never had change for large bills (unless they were selling things at the tourist market, in which case they would be sure to have all the proper change). This situation forced you venture around the streets until you found someone who did have change, and then buy something from them in order to obtain smaller bills, and then head back to your original spot to pay the patiently waiting vendor. Well, this bus station taco stand was one of those times, so I went through the entire routine and came back to the woman at the taco stand with proper change. She was less than pleased about this but hey, she got her money.
I don't remember much about the bus ride since it took place between the hours of 12-8am. When I got to the Palenque bus station I just sat there for about ten minutes gathering myself and deciding what to do next. In order to pass the time a little, I found a little cafe that advertised having good coffee so that's where I started--a nice cappuccino and some bite-size Mexican pastries. Feeling re-energized, I asked the lady at the cafe where I could find some internet, thinking perhaps I could do a little research about where to stay around Palenque. I settled on most people's advice to not stay in town, but rather a place called El Panchan, which sits up the road closer to the ruins. It had started to rain at this point, and I was less than enthused about my current situation of trying to find a place to stay with all my bags in yet another unfamiliar place in the world. I had read that I just needed to catch a collectivo going toward the ruins and they'd drop you off in El Panchan, so that's what I did. But, not without making a stop in the grocery store to buy some snacks first :)
The sky was a dark gray and I was feeling exhausted from the past 24 hours. I was dropped off on the side of the road and headed down the gravel road off to the side toward this El Panchan place. I wasn't quite clear on what El Panchan was, but turns out it's a little collection of hostels/bungalows and a restaurant and internet cafe that sits somewhat secluded in the Mexican jungle--of sorts. A very endearing, peaceful and attractive place, but after being less than pleased with the price of a bed at the first few places I checked, I went back to the main road and crossed the street to another place called Jungle Palace to see what they could offer me. They offered my own personal bungalow for 100 pesos, or about US$7.50 at the time (the dollar was fairly strong, and getting stronger, against the peso during a lot of my time in Mexico). It took me all of about three seconds to let the man know I'd take it for the night. My room was just a big square space with a thatched roof, screened windows wrapping around the entire room, a bed, a desk and a stool. I couldn't shut my door all the way, nor could I lock it from the inside, but I could keep it shut by putting my backpack or the stool against it and that was good enough for me. The rain was just short of a down-pour at this point so I pulled all the curtains, ate some chocolate sandwich cookies and went to bed. I think it was still pretty early in the day, before noon sometime I think.
I woke up feeling rested--and to the brightly shining sun! I made the quick decision to gather myself and head to the ruins while the sun was out, knowing full well that the rains could--and probably would--be back anytime. But this was just as likely the next day so why not risk it now instead of waiting to take the same exact risk tomorrow? Jumping on the chance of visiting the ruins in the sunshine I started what turned out to be a 45-minute walk (much of it uphill) to the ruins from Jungle Palace. Walking along the road, and faithfully ignoring all of the collectivos beeping their horns at me thinking I'd like a ride, I had reached what I assumed to be the main entrance after about 20 minutes. The sun was hot, beating down on me, and I had definitely developed a nice collection of beads of sweat all over my body, not to mention soaked the back of my tank top. I walked up to the gate, only to find out the main entrance in which one needed to first stop to purchase a ticket into the park was up the road still. The man didn't tell me exactly how far--or maybe he did and I just didn't catch it. All I needed to know was which direction to go on the road. So I continued my walk, my bag getting heavier and heavier since I had filled it with a snack, lots of water, a few books, umbrella, rain coat and my camera. An over-the-shoulder bag like this was nice for some things--convenient to carry while also carrying a large backpack on your back when on the move between destinations--but very inconveniently painful and heavy when carrying just that for hours at a time.
After walking uphill for what seemed like forever and a thousand miles (and hearing what I believed to be the deep roaring of howler monkeys in the distance!) I made it to the entrance. This is how I got my exercise during those three and a half months--unexpected hikes like this one, in addition to roaming new towns and cities by foot for hours and hours. The ruins were, of course, spectacular. I was thankful to be on my own this time and without a group of twenty others, but the downfall is you don't learn as much about what you're looking at and you don't get to share the magic of where you are with anybody else (also one of the main reasons not to travel alone, in my opinion--though there are many reasons to travel alone, also). I was given a very vague map of the area that was meant to help me make my way around the ruins in an efficient manner that made some sense, and despite it's lack of clarity it turned out to be a big help. I followed the pathways around the park, climbed up countless numbers of steps to get as close to a bird's eye view of the surrounding area as possible, and ducked through little openings and doors into dark hallways and connecting rooms. There were few parts of the ruins that were roped off like there were in Tikal and Copan, at least to my memory (which is not usually that reliable). The Palenque ruins were different than both Tikal and Copan; the grandeur of Tikal's huge temples and the detail of the stone carving in Copan were both like nothing I've ever seen. Palenque offered some spectacular temples and, as you can see in the pictures below, a great visual of what the city may have been like when it was thriving. Sitting high atop the temples I would look out over the city and try to imagine life as it was--mostly to no avail, but it was still fun to contemplate my sense of wonder.
Just as I was finishing my walk through the ruins a few hours later the rains started. The dark clouds rolled in and out came my rain jacket and umbrella. I left the park at the same place I first stopped on my way there--the entrance that wasn't really an entrance. Since I knew the walk wouldn't take longer than about 20 minutes, I decided to get some more exercise and forge ahead on foot in the rain. Truthfully, it was rather refreshing. When I returned to my cabana, I took another short nap and then headed across the road back to El Panchan in search of dinner. I ate a big plate of pasta with pesto (an authentic Mexican dish for sure) and drank a glass of lemonade. After dinner I made a quick stop to use the internet and then I read until I went to sleep. It was about 7pm. No doubt about it, I had made the decision to leave Palenque the next morning. There wasn't really anything else for me to do in the area and my travel time was winding down.
Here are several pictures from the ruins:
These were some waterfalls at the end of my walk through the ruins; I can't imagine living in a place so magical...
These were my second pair of flip-flops on the trip (I went through three); I finally left them behing in Palenque after they had broken on me several times for the past weeks and I was forced to re-tape them with duct tape over and over again.
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