Releasing my inner Batman

Bats have always kind of creeped me out. They're not exactly cute and cuddly with their sharp teeth and beady black eyes that shine out of their fury little heads, not to mention their sharp claws which are more than capable of an eye gauge. I never liked evening trips to the Sydney Botanical Gardens, the fear of evil swooping bats far outweighed beautiful sunsets. Nope, bats have never been up there with horses and dolphins on my favourite animals list, and they certainly weren't up there on my things-to-see-in-Lanquin list. Still, somehow the little critters managed to wriggle their way onto our two day agenda.

So how did it get to this point? We'd decided that a two day stopover in Lanquin and Semuc Champey - quoted as being Guatemala's most beautiful destination - was in order on our way north to the famous Mayan ruins of Tikal. First, however, we were back on the road in a big way, for a gruelling day of travel which started on the 5am shuttle in Todos Santos. After a long 12 hours and with connections in the tiny town of Buenos Aires (not quite like the one in Argentina), Aguacatan, Sacopulos, Uspantan and Coban we fiiiinally reached Lanquin, well known for its caves. And, equally relieving to having survived the landslide prone road to Coban in one piece, was arriving at 'El Retiro'. Situated about half a kilometre from the centre of Lanquin, this place just had the chilled out vibe we were craving. Dotted with hammocks, it sits on the bank of a fast flowing river in the middle of a green valley, cows lazily grazing nearby. We were lucky enough to get the loft room of a dorm, so we paid the same price for what was essentially a private room, a short climb up a wooden ladder climb. You could definitely lose yourself in a place like this and that's just what we did. The next day consisted of a big sleep in, breakfast at the conveniently located restaurant 20 metres from our door, after which we spent the day lazing in hammocks reading our books, the lodge cat never far away. The only thing we had scheduled for that day was a visit to 'the bat cave' in the evening. Why would I opt to do this you ask, given my position on bats? Quite simply it was a mix of rave reviews from people we'd met the night before over a beer, and a little bit of coaxing from Bec. So I agreed to go, only after I was assured that no, the bats wouldn't touch me.

5pm came around quickly and it was then that we embarked on our journey, lined up like sardines in the back of a ute with Richard and Georgia, an English couple who'd also signed up for the tour, and of course, a tour guide. And within a few minutes of arriving, what was I doing but holding a bat. No the bats wouldn't touch me but there was the opportunity to touch a groggy bat, woken by the guide who retrieved it from a nearby crevice. Not one to shy away from a challenge I somewhat reluctantly held the bat for a few seconds before gladly passing it on. Later I'd find myself holding a scorpion spider which the guide found inside the dark depths of the cave, so it was bats and spiders in the same sitting, quite a big deal for me!

 A sleepy bat and getting acquainted with a Scorpion spider

Anyway, back to the cave. The point of the tour was to venture about a kilometre inside the well-lit cave to see the thousands of inhabiting bats getting their last hour of beauty sleep before undertaking their nightly activities. After this, we would head back the way we came just in time for sunset, at which point, the bats fly out of the cave in their thousands to do their bat thing. Apparently, we were told, this is quite a sight. The cave itself was beautiful and, while awfully slippery, we had the benefit of the guide's visions of certain rock formations - my personal favourite, a sombrero wearing skeleton... . We even had time to take a detour to another bat sleeping hole. This, I discovered as I scaled more than my height up a very narrow crescent (thankfully with a little guide help), was a detour not for the faint hearted, and looked more like a Spiderman manoeuvre to be honest.

At around 6:30pm we emerged from the cave, dusk quickly falling, and sat eagerly at its entrance, awaiting the arrival of the bats. Almost on cue as the first couple of bats flapped their little bat wings toward the diminishing light, we were all 'Wooooow's. With that, the guide quickly informed us: 'this is nothing'. And sure enough, it was nothing. Not more than five minutes later we were inundated with the sound of intense flapping and the sight of thousands of little red eyes flashing in time with our cameras. It was serious rush hour in this bat cave, very fascinating to experience and, to my great relief, I wasn't touched once (except by Richard who thought it amusing to simulate bat landings on my head).

 Bats in flight

The following morning we made our way to Semuc Champey. This time our journey in the back of the same ute would last a tumultuous 40 minutes, the space a tad more crowded with 15 people. We also made a quick pit stop in the local hospital so that poor Bec, whose hand and arm had inflated Michelin Man style after an unidentified insect bite, could get a shot of antihistamine. Once arrived, destination one was another cave, but this time not of the bat variety. On this expedition we were to explore the stalactites and stalagmites by candlelight, at points up to our necks in water! It took quite a bit of getting used to, particularly for me who is not a great fan of confined spaces. I only wish I'd been able to bring my camera with me as the sight of us wading in the dark, candles in hand, was quite unique. The climax of the excursion was definitely the fast-flowing waterfall at the end. After squeezing through an opening between two large rocks and with the aid of a rope, we tread cautiously through the dark (candle-less this time) under the gushing water and jumped into the pool below. It was definitely an adrenalin pumper.

After about 40 minutes inside the cave we eventually saw the light and were soon back on dry land, which wouldn't be for long. Metres from the cave's entrance was a homemade tree swing, the challenge being to swing out over the water, making sure to let go when the guide instructed (the alternative being to land on the rocks on your way back). I managed to let go slightly too late, flying two metres higher than necessary. The next challenge was to getting to shore without being swept away by the very strong current. Reassuring was that we had a holidaying lifeguard on the tour, always a plus in these situations. With this in mind, the activity that followed - 'tubing' down the river in an inflated tyre - was much more enjoyable than expected.

And then there was the big finale, Semuc Champey's main attraction: its natural pools. The bonus? A 25 minute steep uphill hike to a viewpoint, the 'Mirador'. Surprisingly undeterred by our last hiking expedition up the Santa Maria volcano in Xela (probably because this one had a time limit), we sweated our way up, sidestepping moss covered rocks and clambering up vertical stairs. And I wasn't being sarcastic when I said this was a bonus. While I enjoyed cooling off in the fresh water pools afterward, it really was something to get a bird's eye view of the pools' pyramid-like form, the turquoise spilling over in the midst of a lush blanket of jungle which was filled with noisy howler monkeys. Apparently, however, the pools aren't always this way. According to our guide, being the rainy season a down pour not weeks before had turned the dazzling turquoise to a murky brown. We were lucky.

 The view from the Mirador

So Lanquin and Semuc Champey had come back with the goods, Lanquin softening a once cold spot I had towards bats, Semuc Champey living up to its beautiful reputation. On top of that, we'd supported local business by arranging all our tours through 'El Retiro', whose employees span over 20 local families, all of whom delivered a fantastic and memorable experience. This place was definitely a Guatemalan highlight.