Although the Guatemala border is a stone throw away, we weren’t quite ready to hop over yet. It’s sunset, and we are wearing our travelling frugal pants, so finding camp is proving to be difficult. Thankfully, our getting lost game has lead us into a tiny village where horses act as traffic guards and chickens double the population of humans. A young boy yells Hi! Instead of our usual Hola! So we stop and begin chatting about camp options. He directs us back a few kilometres, and on the drive we are teased with brief glimpses of the turquoise bath tub stretching through the valley. Our turn arrives and we toss our way down a narrow, steep cobblestone driveway. Travelling in the off-season once again proves worthy as our tires meet the edge of the river, and we have the oasis all to ourselves. An evening cooled off by a swim, and a classic tropical storm. We yell to the sky thank yous at the top of our lungs.

  We are camped at Las Brisas, and truly can’t figure out why we’ve never heard of this place. The slow riverside morning is accompanied by a game of “Is that sound a bug or a bird?” And we’re always surprised by our findings. Coffee with a view has turned into a lifestyle I’m sure we will be chasing for the rest of our lives, and once the bean water has tapped into each vein, it’s time to explore. Our bodies glide through the food colouring water and I can’t help but feel like a piece of cereal, maybe a blue fruit loop, floating in the now saturated milk. We hop out and roam barefoot through the surrounding jungle and find that the fallen leaves make for a comfy base for our foot pads. But don’t stand still for more than a minute because the ants that live below you will make sure you suffer for ruining their path.

  One of the most cleansing realities this trip has gifted us is the intentional time in nature. Our mornings are spent listening to the stories of birds and different worlds waking from their slumber. By the time early afternoon arrives our phones and laptop are still gathering dust from the day before. It feels incredibly healing having the option to be detached from the media, and loudness of the world.

  If you thought we could get sick of all these waterfalls, you are mistaken. Just across from our beautiful river camp is Las Nubes, who may not necessarily be talked about for its height. These cascades are unique in their chosen path, underground. We pay our ticket fee and walk out on a rock bed in search of falling water, when we realize the show is happening underneath us. In some spots you can see the water racing between the earth and then it disappears again. While the sun is still reaching for its highest point, we chase the pockets of the river and touch every corner of the park before hitting the highway again.

  And finale it was. Our next stop was the border of El Ceibo and Guatemala. With Mexico in our dusty rear view, we prepare to fall in love with another country. And after the Guatemalan border guard practically held our hands, we high fived and entered our third country of the Pan-American journey.

  So far we notice similarities to southern Mexico, with notable differences of less speed bumps and more Toyotas. Matthew can barely keep his hands on the wheel while trying to point out all of the cool old trucks passing by. It feels so good to be here. What we left behind in Mexico is a piece of our hearts we will soon be running back to retrieve. But for now, we are opening our chests to give a piece to Guatemala.

  Our planned first night is on Lake Peten Itza. As we arrive and make our way over the small bridge to the tiny island called Isla de Flores to check out what the tourists have been up to, the sky opens up and greets us in true Central American style. Water pours out of the sky at such a rate that we’re convinced the island is going to disappear into the lake. Yet, for some reason Matthew and I feel called to stand outside in the monsoon and accept the welcome gesture.

 . Everyone writes a different story of their travels. Whether it be an escape from a busy reality, a chance to really slow down. Or maybe it’s the rush that excites you, creating a new reality. Perhaps you travel to learn about history, or maybe you follow your nose to incredible food. A mountain top sunset may tickle your senses, or is it a perfect surf break? Whatever your reason to travel, make sure it’s for yourself.  Something we’ve learned on our journey thus far is to stay true to writing our story. Not necessarily the story we feel everyone else wants to see. YouTube is a beautiful form of expression, but if you’re doing it solely for income and for the viewers, the creative soul can get lost. At the end of the day, this is our time capsule, and we want to be sure of an exciting opening in the future.

  Our story involves choosing the road less travelled, which means asking locals for directions instead of always relying on our phones. Our story intentionally dives deep into culture and the roots of a world so unfamiliar to us. Although we may not stop at every historic site we come upon, that doesn’t mean we’re not asking questions. History is beautiful and it’s a shame we don’t learn more about it, but thankfully travelling overland has a natural way of forcing you to listen. Being immersed into cultural norms on a daily basis has taught us infinitely more than any classroom.

  We are intentional about how we spend our money on the road, but some experiences are too important to even look at the receipt. The Mayan ruins of Tikal is one of these experiences. After we’ve paid for our tickets and drive the final ten kilometres to our camp, a heavy feeling enters the cab. Like someone is welcoming us, and letting us know we’re safe. This isn’t our land, but we are welcome to come and learn. Signs letting us know jaguars may cross keep us company through the dark green hallway, and when we arrive we park under an impressive umbrella of a tree. We fall asleep early in preparation for an early start the next day.

  We’re two very quiet humans exiting the Chinook at five o’clock in the morning, even the guard yawns as he takes our tickets. Waking up with the sun in a jungle this full of life feels sacred. Like we’re a part of something. As the birds fly over us already at full running capacity, and sleepy coatimundis stumble across our path, we enjoy feeling like animals ourselves. We laugh as we talk of a cafe sitting in the middle of one of the temples, but coffee has been replaced with adrenaline and curiosity this morning. When we round the last corner into the grand plaza, we get that feeling every traveller longs for. The feeling of lost and found wrapped into one ancient box. The feeling of not knowing, but wanting to know everything. The feeling of being so small in such an incredibly large, magnificent world. It is important to feel small on earth, because that means there is still so much to explore.

  Thank you Tikal, for making us forget about coffee.