Day 12 – Indiana Jo’s Jungle Adventure Part 2: the World of Locanda

No cars or Tones and I – marked safe from Dance Monkey one day – just a fantastic sleep, despite the thin mattress that let the rungs dig into me every time I rolled over. Must have been tired.

My expectations for the jungle shower were, like many of the Mayan doorways, not high. (I tell you – these are my people.) Dad would have enjoyed the standard operating procedure shower. All I got was a drizzle of hot water, more appropriate for a Jamie Oliver salad dressing and I resigned myself to a hokey pokey sponge bath (you put your right arm in and you shake it all about etc). Our host, Gabriel, later informed me via Manuel on the jungle translation grapevine that you had to let it run, then turn the cold on then the hot kicked in. Yes, the shower Illuminati conspiracy against me is worldwide. (As I write this, I am in Cuba wondering how to inform the owner of the guesthouse that I just broke their shower curtain rod.)

Breakfast was Mexican scrambled eggs (that means it had tomato in it), some beans and tortillas. Always tortillas. Mas coffee too. That means more. Gabriel was starting to get me despite the language barrier. Load me up with the hard black stuff, my man. Twice. He bid goodbye to us as he had to visit the bank and would be gone by the time our transport arrived at 2pm. This was not the simple pop around the corner to the ATM. There was no Banknorte dispensing tree. It was a 5 hour round trip for him.

Manuel was so taken with the chill factor of the cabanas that he decided to chuck in his plans and stay two more days. Gabriel was thrilled!

At 9am, we emerged from our rooms for our 4 hour walk in the Lacondan jungle. Do you walk in the jungle? Or is it automatically a trek by virtue of it simply being in the jungle? Or is a machete required for it to qualify as a trek? I had gone full Chuck Norris (is Chick Norris the female version?) sans weaponry. Camo singlet, cargo shorts, thick khaki socks. Our guide, Rosalita, dressed like she was headed to the 711 to replenish her snack stash. A loose fitting dress and flip flops??? WHS alert!!!! Exposed toes in the jungle???? And I thought I was tough braving tinea in the gym showers. Rosalita was badass.

Again, para habla no Espanol. I walked/trekked through a contextless bubble for a while. It was the dry season but the ground was muddy for about half the time, resembling the mushy brown frijoles I ate three times a day. Everything was green and lush with a dense canopy that prevented me donning my sunglasses, although we entered clearings frequently enough to blind me with light. The walk itself was very easy. Flat ground with consistent terrain for the most part. I felt very relaxed walking along in the green world of Locanda, having no idea what was going on for the most part. I took this two-day  side trip for the ruins but the jungle walk was a definitely a cool bonus that I really enjoyed more than I thought I would.

Manuel did impart some secondhand nuggets of Rosalita wisdom to me. Early on, she started saying something that made Manuel and the other couple instantly drop their gear and reach for the big spray as if their lives depended on it. Spray and roll on was being applied with breathtaking speed.  I figured it was another lesson on mosquitoes, zika and dengue – ho hum – heard that one before. No. Manuel told me there was a fly in season for the current month only. The fly injects a worm through its leg subcutaneously (that means under human skin – I just like the word). The worm then injects a poison into the human bloodstream that can make you very sick. She ordered us to apply BandAids to any new dots that might appear on our arms over the coming days because that starves the worm of oxygen and kills it. So if I end up looking like Norman Gunston, you will know why. I saw two flies on my hand that day that I immediately crushed – I don’t know if it was THOSE flies – I wasn’t going to wait to find out.

We saw a lot of cool stuff in the jungle. First, a mega tree. It was not on par with the Tula tree. Not even close. I think it was only a couple of hundred years old. But we all had to hug it because it gave us magic juju??? I will be happy if it doesn’t give me hives.

Rosalita explained about the Locandan community and their use of the jungle. Basically, they use it for everything. They live entirely self-sufficient lives (except for those flip flops, Rosalita, that’s bull), thanks to the jungle. She showed us plants for spices (smelt like pepper), cooking fish, washing dishes and making clothes and fabric. She even showed us the specific plant she used to make her bag! The Locandan jungle belongs to the people who are autonomous – the Mexican government has no influence here. That means they can’t log or touch the jungle which is great. The Locandan people have been taking care of the jungle forever and it’s still here; hopefully that can continue.

Apparently the people are mostly vegetarian, living off plants and eggs. They use animals for farming purposes and only eat meat once a year when the crops are particularly fertile and the animals are fat. I thought to myself that the vegetarian meals back at the cabanas now made sense.

Other cool stuff she showed us included a plant that produced the green dye for the original US greenback. Not anymore though. Surely that’s Panetone something now. Plus Trump would have logged the whole jungle if he had anything to do with it . Also we saw a tree that was not a tree! It was as big as a tree, it stood on the ground like a tree but it was really a parasite that fed off the neighbouring tree and took it over to become bigger than the original! So the opposite of Grease 2.

Rosalita led us to the not so world famous Laconda ruins which consisted of one structure on top of a hill. Another observation Edificio???? Manuel reported that this was all that remained of another Mayan city. It was probably a day’s walk from Bonampak which would have been a doddle for the Mayans who walked sacbes (white roads) for trade and other purposes. Could the actual people depicted in the Bonampak murals have sat on the edge of this very structure like I was right then? I had no way of dating the Lacondan building to know if it was contemporary with the murals (790 AD), but it was extremely cool to feel connected to the people in the murals in that particular moment. The vibe was very tranquil, looking out into the dense jungle. We sat there chilling and briefly forgetting about killer mutant flies.

Quote time. Willie Scott: “The entire place is crawling with living things!” Indiana Jones: “That’s why they call it the jungle, sweetheart.” Rosalita had a keen eye for wildlife spotting. (Almost as good as me with loose change on the ground.) This picture of a toucan is why I bring a camera with decent zoom on my adventures.

We also saw a bright green snake, a cool little lizard, big ants, and termites. Better yet, we ate the termites! They tasted minty! You would have to devour a whole mound to get any nutritional value because they are so tiny. Shame Mounds Bar is taken. That would be a great name for a minty termite protein bar if the Lacondans wanted to make some extra cash. I doubt it has nutritional value either.

Rosalita had one more surprise up her sleeve. Did we want to visit a cave? Yes please! She led us to a rushing river with muddy banks and waded straight in, beckoning us to follow. Oh Rosalita … the flip flops … it all becomes clear now … I removed my Kathmandu walking shoes and merino socks. Although I knew payback would be a blistery bitch with wet feet later, I gingerly waded into the river. The water only went up to ankle height at best but the current was strong and it was like walking on sharp rock edges in parts. Stupid baby soft Westerner tourist feet. One false move and it would be a faceplant transplant. Manuel helped me across, leading me to the softer rocks. We then clambered over a short, muddy vertical wall before crunching the jungle undergrowth barefoot. I briefly wondered whether my travel insurance would cover me if something hairy lurked under the leaves.

Finally, the cave! Well, we stood at the mouth of a small cave and saw bats. Bruce Wayne had clearly downsized. That was it. Back we went. Well, the others went for a swim in the deeper part of the river but I hadn’t brought my bathers so I dozed off on a bench waiting. I did, however, have the bright idea of using Wet Ones to remove the mud and my feet dried while I waited. Winning!

Rosalita returned us to the cabanas for lunch –  chicken breast. Hang on! Didn’t they only eat meat once a year? Was I eating the chief supplier of huevos for the household????? If so, it was a delicious honour. It will remain a mystery for the ages because I wasn’t going to ask and I wouldn’t have understood the answer anyway!

The remainder of the afternoon consisted of killing time before the transport picked me up. There were two shops in the vicinity – one was a house with a beer fridge and a huge pile of life jackets, the other had more products and a small monkey on the cashier’s lap. No signal or wifi. I looked at the garden and chilled on my porch with some downloaded podcasts. Some Chinese randoms turned up with a dubious printout of a booking, Yucatan license plates and asked if there were any ruins on the area. Well, we weren’t here for the beer fridge, lady!?!?! I struggled to conceive of any possible reason for driving aimlessly through the Lacondan jungle on dirt roads with bugger all English or Spanish if you had no idea that world class ruins were around the corner. To top it all off, the woman demanded an early dinner at 5pm and sported a steel rod in her leg. She could barely walk 10 feet without assistance. The Mayan ruins with sheer vertical steps would be a barrel of laughs for her. It was a very random incident in people watching.

Just as I was beginning to get worried, the transport turned up half an hour late. I said goodbye to Manuel before heading into town.

Francisco and I had planned a final dinner but, as I arrived back quite late and he had an urgent work thing to do, we had to abandon the idea. But he still met me to return my luggage, carry it to my room and see that I was all checked in at the Intrepid hotel where I would rejoin the tour group. All was not lost though. I would see Francisco at Palenque the next day in his element- as tour guide of the ruins!

So my evening consisted of a run to the Chedraui, a giant supermarket next door to the hotel. I grabbed my old faithful tuna – one can for the road and one pouch of pieces for dinner – and a diet lime mineral water before perusing the fascinating shelves of Mexican products. I found a Carlos V sugar free chocolate bar for later too. (As I write this offline on the road to the Bay of Pigs in Cuba, I am craving that simple tuna. I have put so much bad stuff down my little gob since then.)

Then it was back to the hotel to learn that Kobe Bryant died in a helicopter crash. It always seems that somebody famous dies on my trips. So there’s that box ticked then. Celebrities – mark yourselves safe from Jo’s trip from now. Sorry Kobe.

Tune in next time for my reunion with Francisco, King Pakal and the world famous Palenque ruins in the heart of the Chiapas jungle.