I wake up, check my shoe for microscopic spiders and jump out of our doorless treehouse. I eat my breakfast of pancakes and flies all the while beating myself on the head to throw my attention elsewhere.
After breakfast we set of to the famous pools of Semuc Champey. We hike about three grouse grinds before we make it to the pools, but it is very rewarding… I drool in anticipation as we get closer and closer to the pools. I sigh a breath of relief as I finally stand in my bathing suit by the edge of the pool. I preform a macho Olympic dive and silently rejoice underwater. My underwater party is ruined as I crash face first into a rock and let out a silent scream of agony in a forest of bubbles. I surface, try to convert my grimace of pain into a comical grin and run away to tend to my face. My dad walks up to me, in the bushes, and tells me I look like an illiterate chicken with a bad case of acne.
We go back with our group to the hotel. I let out a strangled cry of disbelief when we take a route about forty times shorter the the “grouse grind” route we took earlier. It takes us five minuets to get back to the hotel. Everybody else looks normal and are talking about a salamander they saw on the way hear. Turns out I’m the only person that took the “mountain goat” path.
Back at the hotel I enjoy my lunch of schnitzels and entertain my self as people faint at the sight of my now un-proportional face. After lunch we set out to the watery caves of doom.
We arrive at a tiny hut, the reception, and our shoes are instantly whisked away by a very short, scuttling, chubby grandpa in a cowboy hat. He explains that he doesn’t want us to lose our shoes in the water. Ya right, he just wants my designer crocs.
I lose the battle over custody of my shoes and sulk of to the cave, two minutes behind the main group. I’m able to catch up to the group just as they are receiving miniature candles that will be our life line in a water filled cave. I walk down into the dark, church candle in hand. Suddenly I let out a childish shriek as I step into cool water, the owner of the place looks at me guiltily and says he tries his hardest to heat the water.
Five minuets later we arrive at a waterfall, I assume this is the end of the trip. But no, I am forced to climb the water fall, clinging to a fishing line. At the top of the waterfall I can barely breath as water pounds at my face, I gawp like a fish on dry land and I keep on hearing the guide at the top of the waterfall yelling at me that I’m a useless sack of potatoes and that I need to grab on to his hand. I never find his hand, but my dad saves the day by giving my a kick in the arse which propelles me way over the waterfall, I land with a painful thud.
Painfully rubbing my backside we continue along the caves. We finally arrive at the end of the caves where we are offered to jump of a four meter cliff into a one by one meter pool of water. I start climbing, my dad taunting me and telling me not to fall down, this doesn’t work as I topple backwards, headfirst into the water with a little yelp. I emerge out of the pool much wiser and wait as the guide gets ready to jump. He throws his flash light to me and cannon balls awfully close to the wall. Five minuets later the guide still hasn’t emerged and there have been no sign of bubbles. I assume him dead and start panicking like a headless chicken, that’s when an evil laugh, just barely audible, sounds behind me. I turn around and see our guide sitting in a hole, half of his body submerged in water. Turns out there was a hole from the main pool to a smaller pool and the guides pranks have been the subject of four heart attacks and nine hospitalizations.
At the hotel we spend three hours playing Jimmy Rummy with fellow cave-goers, betting our newly acquired pet salamanders and in one case a bright pink, neon scorpion. After five cokes I run of to the washroom where I fall asleep on the toilet seat.