Our canoe slid into the inky mouth of the cave, which Mayans believed was a gateway to the underworld. It was easy to see why.

Beyond, lay cavernous (!) chambers, with enormous stalactites, stalagmites, and fanciful formations. Truly another world, and I imagined it lit only by the flickering torches of the ancients.

Mayan remains (even a skull perched high on a ledge) attested to the fact that this cave was used for ritual sacrifices many centuries ago, and archaeologists know that numerous unfortunates (including children) met their end here.

Our guide, Carlos, was an expert, imparting geological information, Mayan tales, and pointing out the many bat holes (easily recognizable by the guano surrounding them). In late afternoon, the bats were still hanging upside down in their bat-cave.

Carlos decided to show us the back recesses of the cave. To get there, we had to squeeze through a section where the ceiling formations hung very low. Sitting on the floor of the canoe, we lay back and scrunched as much as possible, so that we squeaked under the low ceiling without touching. (You have to avoid touching formations at all costs, since that stops their growth.) After a tight squeeze, the cave opened up again.

On our way back out, we were approaching the squeeze section again, and saw a bat hole no more than 2 feet off the water, with 3 little bats in it. From my spot at the front of the canoe, it was clear that my head was going to pass within a foot of them. My friend passed me a water bottle. “Here, just wave this at them, and they’ll fly away”. Better to fly away than right in my face!

Fortunately, about 2 seconds before we reached them, the bats took off and flew out of the cave. It’s definitely the closest view I’ve ever had.

Cave canoeing? Way cool!