HAN SOLO, I PRESUME?
It’s 6am. The air is thick with moist. Although it too early to be hot, I’m sweating like a swine. We have woken up earlier to see the sunrise over the granddaddy of all lost Maya cities. Perched on top of Temple VI, some forty meters above ground, we see nothing. A thick blanket of fog covers everything but a pair of beautiful wild Aracaris that pose for photo-op smack in the middle of what should have been a direct view on the Temple of the Jaguar. Looks like spotting sunrise is not in the cards today. The ancient mega-police of Tikal will take more patience to reveal.
The end of the road
We drove to Tikal through the endless, empty stretches of Peten. This area in northern Guatemala is the heart of the lost Maya civilization, and lost it is.
Covered in thick jungle and hosting but a few broken roads, much of this vast tract of land is yet to be discovered. But it wasn’t always like this. Some 1,500 years ago, the whole desolate region was home to prosperous giant city-states with a unique writing system and language. This all came to an abrupt and unknown end centuries before the first Spanish Conquistadors landed on Mexico’s Caribbean shores. And while some of their cities were rediscovered during the 19th and 20th centuries, the Mayan language and hyalographic writing system, are lost forever.
Today the grand cities that dominated Peten are being dug out of the rubble. Numbered in the dozens, they dot the impenetrable wildernesses of Mexico, Honduras, and Guatemala. None. However, is as big, nor as grand as Tikal. The place is huge on an almost unworldly scale. More than 3,000 excavated structures covering more than 16 square kilometers make Tikal the largest remaining Mesoamerican site – by far. Visiting there, I couldn’t help thinking of the mega-complex of Angkor Wat. Both are UNESCO World Heritage sites. But while the Cambodian site was constantly populated by local Buddhists, only to be “discovered” by western explorers in the 19th century, Tikal was truly lost, and remained unknown for more than a millennia. The fact it survived in the Yucatan’s tropical rainforests is a miracle in itself.
Where did all the visitors go?
Annoyed, but not dismayed, we dismount the massive stone structure and start touring around. As the fog slowly lifts, we notice something strange. We’re almost alone. True, the site is massive, but still, this is the largest, most impressive lost city this side of the globe. We did expect to meet a lot more visitors. Being to Angkor Wat, I know how 8,000 tourists a day feels like. Tikal, not less impressive, receives a scant 500. That’s five hundred tourists spread over 16 square kilometers. That’s nothing.
Guatemala is fascinating. More posts about it below:
* Banana Republic
* He’s not heavy, he’s my saint
* What color should you wear for a funeral?
It could be the remoteness of the place, Guatemala’s less than perfect infrastructure, or simply bad marketing. Whatever the reason may be, we’re having the place almost entirely to ourselves. Think about that for a minute next time you visit Vatican City or Times Square.
Déjà vu
We head to Temple V. The 1,300-year-old pyramid towers its surrounding. Climbing to the top of its 57-meter summit is a sweltering experience, but one that’s worth the effort. From the top of it, one can see the vastness of the city, and the endless jungles beyond.
Sitting on top of the elevated porch (and regaining my breath) I find myself feeling a strange Déjà vu. Have I been here before?
A quick browse through the files of my aging memory soon reveals a surprising answer. Star Wars! And not just any Star Wars movie. The 1977 original. It’s the final scene after the destruction of the Death Star that was shot from this exact location.
I’ve traveled halfway across the world to reunite with my childhood movie cult. Amazing!
With that revelation in mind, I dismount Temple V and head to the main royal plaza. The clearing is flanked by two immense pyramids – called simply “Temple I” & “Temple II” (no one can read Mayan writing and tell what their name truly was). Leading to these two towers are rows of palaces. The book says they are exquisite remains of Mesoamerican architecture. The trouble is that by the time we get there, we are too tired and too hot to pay attention. Our thoughts start to fog up as humidity and heat take reins.
With shirts wet and water tanks dry, we head out and away 60Km south to Flores, where cold beer and a hot meal await. Goodbye Emperor Montezuma, or whatever your name may be. We’d like our 21st century back if you don’t mind.
