Caracol Kings

Got up early to get breakfast at Annie's before our Caracol adventure. When we arrived, Trudi commented that something smelled nice, Annie quipped "That is because you are English and this is bacon". We had bacon in tortillas and a cup of tea.

David said that his rather sorry looking pickup truck was broken and so he had arranged alternative transport. Sure enough, at eight o'clock, a rather battered minivan arrived with "Caracol King" emblazoned across the top. David introduced us to David and we rattled off.

After an hour and a half of bone-shaking travel on sandy 'roads' (heaven only knows what happens to them when it rains) we arrived at a military checkpoint where there were policemen with guns and barracks for the British army. We stopped here awhile to allow all the vehicles (7 vans and two 4x4s) to congregate. Then we we led down another 'road' by a pickup with 4 armed men in it. We didn't demand too many details as to why that might be necessary, allowing ourselves to be told - it's for safety.

Meanwhile, the Caracol King minivan was becoming increasingly difficult for David to get into gear, after about 40 minutes, we go onto some paved road (wierd but true) and the police truck slowed in front of us on a steep hill, David had to change down and, with an almighty BANG, we were stopped. Everyone just passed us, no wanting to stop on the hill, I guess.

The police came back, as did one of the guides from another bus (who, we found out, owned Caracol King). After berating David for having the temerity to change gear on a hill, we were told to walk up the hill to the awaiting (much nicer) bus. Where we were sort-of welcomed by the tour group inside. They were from some wildlife society and I think were expecting to have no interlopers.