I woke up at 7:30, I made a quick shower, prepared a backpack and walked to the south of the city. I crossed the main road between the Pan American hysterical screams and almost incomprehensible number of minibus drivers shouting their destinations trying to drown out the noise of traffic and that of clacsons taxi in search of customers.
Sitting comfortably enough, on a minibus with 12 seats, assigned Comitan, I admired the pristine landscape out the window. The high mountains covered by a dark green carpet of evergreen trees, is slowly transforming them into colorful hills of orange, ocher and pale green. The driver drove quickly but with caution and address the apparent curve of the road down safely. I have known Rudy, a Mexican boy, as were all the other passengers, about my age. He has thick eyebrows, flattened nose and his gentle smile is adorned with two small pits that form on the cheeks. He was very friendly and helpful in giving me information on how to reach the waterfalls Chiflon, where I was heading. After 'hours and 45 minutes of pleasant conversation with Rudy, who arrived in Comitan, about 80km south of San Cristobal de Las Casas, I went to another party collective that is after just three minutes after my arrival. He made some stops on the main road which crosses the city, completely filled, until he turned right immersed in the highlands of Chiapas. Half an hour more later, I ended curves, and with them also the mountains. On top of a hill, in front of me is proved to be an 'immense green plain, which was lost horizon.
The road was devoid of curves and mountains flanked the wall to my right.
I could not see the end and I felt a huge roller coaster with continuous ups and downs. Dropped crossing to the falls, I took a motorcycle taxi, or those in Antigua, Guatemala, more commonly called: Tuc-Tuc. He took me to the entrance of the park and from there I started my walk uphill along the river that runs along the entier. I made a few breaks, not so much for the effort, but to photograph the beautiful scenery that I had under my eyes. I came up on top, sweaty and eager to see the great waterfall about 80m high, dominated the landscape with overbearing authorities. It seemed to be the mother of those more experienced in small and modest way, that Creach at their feet beautiful natural pools of icy water. I wanted to tuffarmici within, Because to give up, I is enough to get the ankles and feet feel frozen.
I stayed there a couple of hours, sitting in the shade on a small wooden bench, under the imposing waterfall, refreshed by the breeze carried by the wind.
I am immersed in the pages of my book, mesmerized by the words and isolated from the noise of the huge mass of water falling from the sky. Only when people began to arrive to interrupt my silence, I sat on the way back.
Now I'm here, sitting on a stone bench around a table, on the river bank. The crystal clear emerald green water, descends slowly caressing the smooth rocks causing a rustle relaxing. The reflections of the sun they sparkle by covering with a cloak of brilliant. The brightly colored butterflies flying in the fresh air blending with the leaves, swinging, falling from the trees like snowflakes. Here, the anger, the strength and supremacy of the waterfall "mother" turns into a placid and gentle motion that patient flows to the bottom of white sand.
I try to relax, to enjoy fully this when surrounded by nature. Listening to the sounds of the forest and try to free my mind, but I can not! My thoughts are far from that enchanted place, slow flow, as the waters of the river, and me back in time. I try to defeat them, to swim against the tide to rise and the falls of love that I have filled my heart. I cling to every branch that protrudes from the shores of my soul, but I can not! Not yet. I can not forget, I can not think ....
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