Visiting the caves of Barton’s Creek in San Ignacio, Belize.
April 28th, 2002
|In little boats we went up a river|
|And then we entered this cave …|
My time in San Igancio turned to be the day of my live I changed my opinion most often. About five times I turned from leaving today to staying another night and ended up in a second and cheaper hotel. Another thing I changed three times was the tour operated for visiting Barton’s Creek a cave seven miles deep into the mountain. We got there by pick up truck, the boats on top, a little up a river an then into the dark. We were four gringos and one guide, gliding through the most amazing stone formations some times 130 feet high, sometimes only one. We passed bats, Maya pottery, the skull of a child (that’s what the guide said, I couldn’t see it exactly). For thousands of years this had been a sacred Mayan place, an entrance to the underworld. With the boats we went about one hour into the cave, two miles deep, as far as you can go by boat. Twice we turned off the lights and now I know what pitch black means. Compared to this the sleeping rooms of my childhood have been bright as the day. It is like turning off your eyes. After seconds you loose your orientation though not moving and the sound becomes much more important.
|There were bats|
|And stones like shark teeth|
|Or modern art|
|And drops beautifully reflecting the flashlight|
© Volker Umpfenbach