"...the sea's only gifts are harsh blows and, occasionally, the chance to feel strong. Now, I don't know much about the sea, but I do know that that's the way it is here. And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong, to measure yourself at least once, to find yourself at least once in the most ancient of human conditions, facing blind, deaf stone alone, with nothing to help you but your own hands and your own head..." —Primo Levi
To summarize: fuckin’ groovy! Yet, it didn’t exactly start that way.
They hadn’t “left” him behind. The dog was dead.
We made our way thru the park, leisurely taking everything in. We hadn’t paid, so we lacked the park's wristbands leading to occasionally tense moments--at least until it was clear that the employees didn’t give a shit so long as we weren’t blatant or causing trouble! We weren’t worth the bother and besides--a few pesos would distract them.
After a couple of hours, which included a James nipping Chris in impromptu race up the steps of a temple, the heat had zapped us. We’d seen Palenque, and our return jungle expedition revealed more hidden ruins including in-ground aqueducts doubling as bat caves and buildings long-ago reclaimed by jungle; buildings so large they were impossible to photograph effectively.
James decided we’d give Mauricio's “proper jungle” a shot, so Sunday's plan was to rise early (before the campground came to collect for our second night of camping) and get on the road toward Bonampak, near the Guatemala border. If Palenque wasn’t “proper jungle” I was eager to see what was! I envisioned a cross between Planet of the Apes, Apocolypto, and, if I was lucky, reenacting the Peace Corps scene from Airplane with added wild grinder monkeys.
What we got was almost as good: The Ant Farm...