-Rio Dulce-

-Rio Dulce - Livingston-

-December 22nd-

This place is breathtaking. It is the third time a feeling like this has come about on this Guatemala trip. The first was Lake Atitlan with the wonderful views of San Pedro Volcano, the second, Tikal's ancient ruins and now Rio Dulce.

Yesterday I decided I would kayak towards the next big place down river, Livingston. I looked at the map and read that it was 4 miles as the crow flies from the Round House. So I went for it.

The further down river I got the more majestic it became, the cliffs began to grow to around 100 metres. In some places you could see the bare white cliff, the rest was covered in thick lush vegetation. To add to the myriad of natural beauty on show, a number of water birds were doing there thing, huge pelicans would swoop down and on every occasion bar one they were successful in scooping up a fish or two. High percentage success rate to say the least.

The current worked with me on the way out to the gulf towards Livingston, when I took a breather and processed the beauty around me I stayed stationary or drifted in the desired direction. The water changed in the bay, amongst the fishing boats, abandoned and in working order it became choppy and the fish market smell lurked in the air.

Livingston was full of people of varying descents. Afro-Caribbean, Guatemaltecos, Mayan and foreigners like myself. It was a rustic place with plenty of soul. Kids played football in the streets, mechanics hammered away at ancient looking boat engines, people sold their street food; fried chicken, empanadas, sweet coconut meat and the fruit and veg essentials, of which I bought some rambutan.

After an hour and a half I reasoned it was time to head back to Casa Ronda if I were to make it by night fall. Imagine kayaking in the pitch black! Nope. I left at 2:15pm, 15 minutes before I could have caught a boat back for 40 Quetzal. I think my stubbornness got the better of me in deciding to kayak it. Immediately I realised it was taking a lot longer having to fight the current. I would stop to eat a rambutan and I would notice the stationary boats behind me approaching as if sailing towards me. It was okay fighting the current until the tiredness set in along with the aches and pains and blisters, shit was getting real.

I noticed two men approaching over my right shoulder in a two man rowing boat. I wondered what they were up to, they had a sheepish look about them and smiled each time they made eye contact with me. I followed them as I assumed the route they were taking was easier with the currents. The front man on the boat grabbed a huge leaf and tore half away. I continued for a mile or so they were ahead by 30 or 40 metres, I was now changing my technique every 20 seconds to offset the aches and pains. Eventually the two men stopped. I asked them why they were rowing the boat along the sides of the river and they confirmed to me it was the most energy efficient way. Cut a long story short, the men started rolling a joint using the green leaf pulled form the riverside. This explains why they were plotted up under the expanse of thick vegetation and gazed with such alertness at each passing boat.

I tried the medicine in hope it would numb the aches and pains whilst enhancing my energy levels, speeding up the impending last leg. It worked for about 30 mins until it wore off, back in the pain cave I crawled. Anyway, I pushed on and made it back at 5pm, 2 hours 45 minutes after leaving Kingston. I had never been so relieved to see a Hostel.

Back at the Hostel, Manuel, not Miguel, beg my pardon, turned on the log burning sauna and had prepared a banging dinner. Great end to a punishing yet rewarding day in Rio Dulce. In hindsight I would have returned on boat which would have taken 15 minutes!