KIRAN GOES PLACES
Semuc Champey isn't just a pretty swimming spot, it's been a place of spiritual importance to the Maya for centuries, a natural portal where the river disappears into the earth and is reborn downstream, tied to myths of the underworld, fertility and the cycles of life. To get there, you stay in Lanquín, a remote town that's genuinely a day's drive from anywhere. Walking through it felt almost post-apocalyptic, a derelict church, music left playing, barely anyone around.
Getting to the park itself is an experience on its own. You jump on open air jeeps, a dozen people crammed on top and clinging to the back, holding onto metal bars while squished against strangers who are basically your friends by the time you arrive. You can do this as an organised day trip, but we went more freely, taking our own transport and being the first ones into the park while everyone else peeled off to the caves.
A dozen strangers clinging to the back of a jeep, an experience in its own right before you even reach the park.
Tickets were 50 quetzales per person, about $7, not bad at all. First stop was the viewpoint they call El Mirador, the angular vantage point behind most of the postcard photos of Semuc Champey. It's a slippery, muddy uphill walk, and we watched plenty of people slip and fall on the way up. But we got there early enough that it was still quiet, and the view at the top was genuinely worth every slippery step, cascading turquoise falls that actually looked exactly like the pictures.
The view from El Mirador, worth every slip on the way up.
Coming back down, a little vendor coconut hit the spot after that hike.
Much needed after a slippery hike up and down.
Because we'd got there early and independently, the pools themselves were still quiet when we reached them, expansive, flat, and a colour somewhere between blue and green that looks almost unreal. The water is so clear you can see straight through it. Above the pools you can see the actual source, waterfalls running down the cliffs into a series of natural pools that almost look man-made, each one flowing into the next.
The pools themselves, still quiet since we'd skipped the big tour groups.
What was nice was that it wasn't just tourists either, local Guatemalan families were having a dip too. There are little caves within the turquoise water, and mini jumps and slides connecting the different pool levels. Having other groups around actually helped, we followed people to find the best jumps and slides, going at our own pace but keeping half an eye on where everyone else was heading.
Following other groups to find the best jumps and slides.
After a morning of swimming we tuk-tukked back to Lanquín for lunch at Aragoncito Bistró, a secluded little spot with excellent veggie tacos and a lasagne that used carrot instead of actual lasagne sheets, lighter than you'd expect and genuinely good.
Next we headed to Zephyr Lodge, a place everyone we met seemed to know, some for good reasons, some for bad, famous for epic sunsets, parties, and tubing down the Cahabón River. We signed up, got back on a jeep upstream, and grabbed our tubes, which came with their own built in drink holders. The safety briefing was surprisingly serious about the currents.
Zephyr Lodge, known by everyone for its sunsets, parties, and tubing.
Tubing itself is properly peaceful, floating with a drink, river, forest and birdsong all around, bumping into random people and joining different little groups along the way. The water did get choppy enough to claim one of my drinks. We hit a few genuinely fast rapids, faster than any tubing I've done before, stopped at a riverside hostel for a break and a cheeky game of volleyball (which we won), then floated the rest of the way back through rapids and under bridges. Every so often the guide would shout "butts up" to warn us about rocks that could scrape, well, exactly what you'd think.
Butts up. This is the life.
It took a day to get to Lanquín and a day to get out, but it was full of natural beauty and some of the prettiest waterfall pools I've ever seen. It's remote enough that everyone there is just up for having fun and making the most of it, which is really what travel is all about. Next stop from here, Colombia, baby, it's salsa time.