Guatemala Blog #2 — Semuc Champey, The Caves, the Chaos & the Road to Guatemala City
From accidental Halloween costumes to jungle hikes and river hammocks — Semuc Champey was beautiful, messy, and unforgettable.
After a peaceful couple of days on Flores Island — lake views, dancing, monkey hunting, and missing Tikal twice — it was time to head to my next stop: Semuc Champey.
I’d seen the photos of the turquoise pools and the famous viewpoint, and that was enough to convince me. I honestly didn’t know much about the caves until I got there, but I was excited either way. It felt like the next big chapter of my Guatemala trip.
Early the next morning, I packed my big blue backpack, checked out, and expected an eight-hour shuttle ride to Lanquín.
Spoiler: it was not eight hours.
One last look at Flores before beginning the long, unpredictable journey to Lanquín.
Getting to Lanquín (Semuc Champey): Early Morning, Water Taxi & Backpacker Chaos
My hostel was across the water, so my day started with a water taxi to Flores Island.
From there, I walked to the so-called “bus station,” which was really just:
a strip of pavement
about 50 confused backpackers
zero actual buses
no signs, no staff, no schedule
The buses were maybe five minutes late, but everyone (including me) was already slightly stressed, scanning the road like, “Are we even in the right place?”
Eventually the shuttles pulled in, and the drivers started shouting names.
If your name was called, you got on.
If not, you waited.
My name came somewhere in the middle, and I was just relieved to stop guessing.
We left sometime after 7:15 a.m. and headed toward Cobán.
Settling in for the long ride to Lanquín — still blissfully unaware of how long this day was actually going to be.
Flores → Cobán → Lanquín
Nobody got off until Cobán, where I transferred (with one other backpacker) to a local bus.
A Guatemalan woman stayed with us and made sure we boarded the correct one — thank goodness, because nothing was labelled, and we absolutely would have gotten on the wrong bus.
The bus was packed. They even pulled down the tiny fold-out seats in the aisle so we could squeeze in. I ended up in a middle seat with no view — just quick flashes of jungle when the bus tilted enough.
The road from Cobán to Lanquín twisted through the mountains, and by the time we finally reached El Retiro, my hostel on the river, I was SO ready to get out.
Crammed into the local bus on the final stretch to Lanquín — the real start of the adventure.
Arriving at El Retiro
And honestly? It was beautiful.
Jungle everywhere.
Thatched-roof huts.
Wooden walkways.
Hammocks overlooking the river.
After checking in, I found my hut: simple wooden bunks with mosquito nets, thick blankets, and a basic but clean bathroom.
A little jungle village.
I wanted to book my Semuc Champey tour and my shuttle to Guatemala City, but the receptionist on duty didn’t speak much English and couldn’t do bookings. He told me to return when the English-speaking staff came in at 6 p.m.
So I wandered around, I dipped my toes in the river — instantly too cold — but the hammocks were perfect to wait in.
At 6 p.m. sharp, I booked everything without any issues and paid by credit card — which is when I learned there was a small fee for using cards in Guatemala. (Good to know.)
After dinner by the river, I went back to my hut to pack:
waterproof camera
quick-dry towel
water bottle
thin sweater
waterproof headlamp
Everything else went on charge.
Tomorrow was going to be a big day.
Too cold for the river, so I hid in the hammock while waiting for the English-speaking receptionist.
The Semuc Champey Adventure Begins
I’m not a breakfast person, so when my alarm went off, I got up, got dressed, brushed my teeth, shoved my hair into something presentable, grabbed my waterproof bag, and I was ready.
The truck was supposed to arrive earlier, but the driver was running late because of some truck issue. Nothing major — just meant I stood around waiting.
When it finally showed up sometime after 9 a.m., I climbed into the back of the truck, ready for the classic “tourist cattle truck” experience.
But a few minutes later, the driver needed to make room for a couple of locals he was picking up along the route. That’s when he waved me to move me into the cab instead.
Honestly?
Zero complaints from me.
A seat was way better than clinging to a metal bar while bouncing down a dirt road.
Started my tour hanging off the back like a true adventurer…
Then got upgraded to the front seat. Zero complaints.
Into the Caves — Water Shoes, Candles & Almost Dying
The truck dropped us off on the side of the road, and we walked 5–10 minutes toward K’an Ba Cave. Along the way, locals were selling water shoes.
I didn’t buy any because I wanted to save room in my backpack.
Looking back?
I should have bought the damn shoes.
Later, my feet were screaming in the pools.
At the cave entrance we learned:
Water shoes were mandatory.
So, I rented a pair immediately.
Before going inside, we put everything into lockers:
towels
dry clothes
phones
bags
(Any cave photos I took with my waterproof camera are now gone — the camera broke in Honduras. RIP.)
The only thing I kept was my waterproof headlamp, and honestly? Best decision.
There are parts of that cave that feel like pitch-black nothingness.
The guide handed out candles, then lit them one by one at the entrance.
After that, he dipped two fingers into soot and drew symbols on our faces — everyone got a different design. Mine looked pretty cool, and yes, I took a selfie.
Then we entered the cave.
Marked up and ready for the caves. Don’t let the selfie fool you—I was not prepared.
Inside the Cave — From Calm to Chaos
The beginning was calm: cold water around our ankles, candlelight dancing on the rock walls.
But the deeper we went, the higher the water climbed:
Ankles → knees → waist → chest…
Soon we were full-on treading water inside a cave, holding candles above our heads like confused synchronized swimmers.
Then the guide climbed a rock wall, stood high above us, and jumped into a black cavern pool.
He popped back up grinning:
“Who’s next?”
Me.
Obviously me.
I handed him my candle, climbed the wet rock, and jumped.
10/10 — I’d do it again.
That was as far into the cave as we went.
On the way back, the guide led us through different channels — squeezing between rocks and following water passages that definitely weren’t part of the way in.
Then we reached the ladder.
The Ladder From Hell
We climbed up the ladder earlier with no issue.
But climbing down a tall, rusty, slippery ladder with water pouring over it?
Different story.
My right foot slipped straight through a rung.
My other leg flew out.
My right thigh smashed the metal.
My left arm scraped the side.
I grabbed the ladder like my life depended on it — because it absolutely felt like it did.
My brain:
“Welp. This is it. This is how I die. Underground in Guatemala.”
Somehow I pulled myself back up, fixed my footing, and climbed down properly.
My candle?
Very, very dead.
Later, when Bryce saw the bruises, he laughed so hard I considered shoving him into a fountain in Antigua.
We ended the cave portion with a natural water slide — the guide held our candles as we launched ourselves down a rock chute into a pool.
I only lost my candle once the whole time.
Honestly? Pretty proud.
Tubing — The Calm After the Chaos
After the caves, the guide pointed to a giant pile of inner tubes.
We each grabbed one and walked 15–30 minutes along the jungle trail.
Those tubes were heavy and awkward, and the walk felt like forever.
But once we flopped into the river?
Heaven.
Slow current.
Jungle everywhere.
Finally, something relaxing.
As we floated, the guide pointed toward a riverside shack:
“All-you-can-eat BBQ.”
We didn’t need convincing — we were starving.
After tubing, we dropped the tubes off, walked back to the lockers, grabbed our belongings, returned the water shoes, and headed straight for the BBQ.
Simple food — grilled meat, rice, veggies, hot tortillas — but after the morning we’d had?
It tasted amazing.
The icy blue river we tubed down, followed by the much-needed all-you-can-eat BBQ lunch
Cacao Tasting — Sweet & Surprising
Walking toward Semuc Champey, our guide stopped beside a cacao tree, cracked open a fresh pod, and let us try the seeds.
I expected bitterness.
Wrong.
They were sweet, tropical, almost lychee-like.
When he asked if anyone wanted seconds, I muttered a quick “yes” before anyone else reacted.
No regrets.
The Mirador Hike — So Many Stairs
Before reaching the pools, the guide asked:
“Pools first? Or mirador hike first?”
Everyone wanted the viewpoint.
So I said:
“Fuck it, might as well.”
It was a lot of stairs — wooden, dirt, uneven, endless.
Halfway up I muttered:
“This view better be worth it.”
I reached the top dead last, but that worked in my favour — I got the viewpoint mostly to myself.
And the view?
Worth every painful step.
Bright turquoise pools winding through the jungle — straight out of a postcard.
The group took a few photos of me, then we headed down (much easier).
The final climb to the Semuc Champey viewpoint. Sweaty, muddy, and absolutely unforgettable.
Swimming in the Pools
Finally — the pools.
Sunlight.
Turquoise water.
Limestone terraces.
Absolute magic.
We had about an hour, and I swam everywhere.
I dropped my stuff in a random corner (no lockers here), slid into the water, and explored as many pools as we were allowed to enter.
Yes, I was the only person who did a full lap of them.
No regrets.
My only mistake?
Not buying water shoes.
The rocks were sharp and slippery and brutal on bare feet.
After our swim time ended, I waited for a change stall. They were all full, so I loudly said:
“¡Ándale, ándale!”
(Thank you, childhood cartoons.)
A man inside responded, hurried up, and let me in.
I apologized and said it was the only “fast” Spanish word I knew.
He laughed.
I changed into dry clothes and walked to the meeting point.
The pools were peaceful… the changerooms? Pure chaos. They were all full when I needed to rush, so instinct kicked in and I yelled “¡Ándale, ándale!”
The Ride Back — Rain, Broken Cars & Backpacker Debates
We were supposed to leave at 3:00 p.m.
We left closer to 4:00 p.m.
Was I annoyed?
A little.
I could’ve had more pool time.
On the way back, the locals with babies rode inside the cab, so all us tourists stood in the open truck bed. As we drove, the driver picked up locals along the road, so the back became a mix of travellers and Guatemalan families all clinging to the railings.
Then came the backpacker conversation:
Two travellers bragged they saved $5 by seeing Semuc on their own instead of booking a tour.
Meanwhile I was thinking:
After Covid, if we can’t support the local guides who rely on tourism, maybe rethink why you’re travelling.
The tour wasn’t expensive. And it was worth it.
Then traffic suddenly stopped — a car had broken down on the one-lane dirt road, blocking everything. Drivers and locals jumped in to help push it aside.
Once we passed it, the rain started.
Of course.
The driver pulled over, grabbed a huge tarp, and stretched it over the truck bed.
It kept some rain off us.
But the wind whipped underneath, and I was freezing.
Thank goodness for my thin sweater.
One by one, people were dropped off at jungle hostels. Eventually our guide tapped the truck bed, jumped off at his home, and I managed to tip him before he disappeared.
When we finally reached El Retiro, I was:
cold
muddy
tired
hungry
and proud of myself.
What a day.
Jungle traffic jam — a line of trucks, muddy roads, and nowhere to go but forward.
A Quiet Evening Back at the Hostel
Back at El Retiro, it felt like I’d lived five different lives:
Caves
Bruises
Underground pools
Cacao tasting
Hiking
Swimming
Being rained on in the back of a truck
I took the quickest cold shower of my life (they had no hot water), put on warm clothes, ate dinner by the river, packed my stuff, and went to bed early.
Tomorrow was another long travel day — Lanquín → Guatemala City.
And I couldn’t wait to see Bryce.
My well-earned (and absolutely freezing) post-Semuc shower. Jungle luxury at its finest.
The Shuttle to Guatemala City
The next morning, my shuttle arrived almost completely full — I’m pretty sure I was the last pickup.
We left Lanquín, winding out of the mountains, and the road eventually smoothed out as we approached the city.
Then suddenly…
We drove past the city.
Straight toward Antigua.
Cue panic.
I said, “Is this not going into Guatemala City?”
hoping someone would understand.
A couple travellers did and spoke to the driver.
He nodded, pulled over casually, and said:
“This is your stop.”
And that was that.
I was dropped at a random plaza on the outskirts of the capital.
The view from the shuttle — peaceful, calm, and absolutely nothing like what was waiting for me in the capital.
Waiting for My Uber Like It Was Life or Death
One of the travellers kindly ordered an Uber for me.
It was ten minutes away — which felt like an hour — so I walked straight into the nearest pizza shop and waited inside.
I didn’t have Uber.
I didn’t have data.
I had no backup plan if the driver cancelled.
So, I stayed put and stared out the window like my life depended on it.
When the Uber finally arrived, I felt pure relief.
I stared at this screen like my life depended on it… checking every single car that passed. When the right one finally showed up? Relief.
Tequila Sunrise Hostel — My Quiet Escape
The Uber dropped me off at Tequila Sunrise Hostel — quiet, clean, capsule-style beds, hot showers, great Wi-Fi.
Exactly what I needed.
I checked in, dumped my bags, and took a very long hot shower.
Afterward I went out to find food nearby (didn’t want to wander far after dark), grabbed something quick, and returned to the hostel.
Then came the fun part.
I asked the receptionist for a piece of paper and a pen.
He looked confused but handed them over.
I wanted to make a sign for Bryce, so he’d spot me at the airport.
I wrote:
“Mommy is waiting”
(with little cocktail doodles around it)
It made me laugh, and I knew Bryce would absolutely lose it.
After that, I crawled into my capsule, put on Netflix, and went to sleep.
Tomorrow was going to be fun —
Bryce was finally arriving in Guatemala.
Made the world’s classiest airport sign… because Bryce finally lands tomorrow and “Mommy” is READY.
