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“Make sure they can get me a horse,” Mum told me “I am not walking the whole way, and I am not doing it unless I’ve got a tent.” Well we were promised the horse, but for a tent she would have to settle for a polythene sheet roof attached to wooden poles. To my amazement - and, I think, hers - she did.

The prices quoted by the range of travel agencies in Flores varied considerably. We opted for the cheapest. As it turned out the calibre of our guide was the one thing about which we could not possibly have complained. The expedition cost us 150 dollars each (for a ‘group of at least four’), and included guide, mules to carry the equipment muleteer, food and our somewhat basic bedding.

So finally we found ourselves being driven, far too quickly, along the bumpy road to Carmelita, a beautiful but eye-openingly antediluvian village typical of Guatemala’s modern day indigenous communities, a ring of wooden huts surrounding a large clearing in the forest along with, reassuringly, three mules and a small, reluctant looking horse.We were introduced to Maynor, our guide, his cousin Edyy who was to be our muleteer, and mother’s nameless horse, and then led into one of the huts for a surprisingly excellent breakfast of eggs and beans to fortify us for the road ahead. Meanwhile the Guaternalans loaded up the horses.

There was one worrying moment when our feasting was interrupted because my rucksack was too big for the mules, and it briefly looked as though the emergency supply of gin would have to be jettisoned, creating a profound maternal panic.

Having availed ourselves of the hole-in-the-ground lavatory which would soon be remembered fondly as a hallmark of developed civilization, we set off down the soft clay path into the jungle. The first two hours took us along a well-trodden path, used by the villagers whose livelihood, now complemented by the handful of tourists employing guides for the El Mirador trek, centres on the chicle-gathering business, extracting sap from the trunks of chicle trees in the forest which then forms the basis of chewing gum.

By the time we reached a clearing and lunch was called we felt we thoroughly deserved it Lunch provided our first opportunity to meet spider monkeys, as they clambered around the tree tops above us.

There was less than two hours more walking to be done in the afternoon to the small archeological site of Tintal where we were to camp... The jungle fast became thicker and richer- we spotted woodpeckers and squirrels. The sounds of birdsong, frogs and insects intensified as the ground underfoot grew firmer with fallen trees and over ground roots

replacing mud as the chief challenge.

The guides set up our hammocks on arrival, which we, exhausted by the trek and the early start, fell into for an uneasy siesta, before being roused to beat the sunset in our climb up Tintal’s largest temple completely overgrown by the jungle. Only at the very top did the foliage clear and any significant amount of the stonework become visible. We were above the forest canopy looking down on the tree tops. Click here to go to page 3

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