Tikal Temple IV

Where it sits. Temple IV stands at the western end of Tikal, in Petén Department in northern Guatemala, reached by the Maler and Tozzer causeways from the Great Plaza — a walk of about a kilometre through high forest. At roughly 65 to 70 metres from plaza level to the top of its roof comb, it is the tallest structure at Tikal and among the tallest pre-Columbian buildings in the Americas. Because the surrounding canopy tops out around 40 metres, the upper platform breaks clear of the trees, and the view east runs over an unbroken green sea from which only the roof combs of Temples I, II, III and the Mundo Perdido pyramid protrude. That single sightline is the reason the temple is on almost every visitor's itinerary and the reason a film crew came here in the 1970s.

The story behind it. The building is formally the Temple of the Two-Headed Serpent, raised around 741 AD for Yik'in Chan K'awiil, the twenty-seventh ruler in Tikal's dynastic count and the son of Jasaw Chan K'awiil I, who had broken Calakmul's dominance a generation earlier. Yik'in Chan K'awiil continued his father's campaigns, defeating El Perú and Naranjo, and the temple belongs to the building programme that celebrated those victories. Its volume is enormous — the substructure contains more material than any other single building at the site — and it was raised in a period when Tikal's population and reach were at their maximum, only decades before the collapse that emptied the city.

The lintels in Basel. The temple's carved sapodilla-wood lintels are among the finest surviving Maya wood sculptures, and they are not in Guatemala. In 1877 the Swiss collector Gustav Bernoulli had them removed and shipped out; they are held today by the Museum der Kulturen in Basel. Lintel 3 shows Yik'in Chan K'awiil seated on a palanquin beneath a great serpent, with the captured effigy of a patron deity taken from a defeated enemy — a war monument in wood, and one of the most detailed royal portraits to survive from the Classic Maya world. Their absence from the site is one of the standing grievances of Guatemalan archaeology.

On screen. In Star Wars (1977) the fourth moon of Yavin, where the Rebel Alliance hides its base, is introduced with a few seconds of live-action footage shot from this exact platform. The camera looks east over the canopy toward the roof combs of Temples I, II and III, birds cross the frame, and the Massassi outpost — the Rebel base itself — was composited into the trees, along with the Millennium Falcon descending. A very small second unit made the trip; every other Yavin 4 shot in the film, including the hangar and the medal ceremony, was staged on soundstages in England. The result is that a viewer watching the Rebel base appear is looking at genuine Petén rainforest photographed from an eighth-century Maya funerary temple, and that visitors who climb here at dawn are standing on the film's camera position. Guides point it out, and the association has done more for Tikal's international recognition than any archaeological publication.

What you actually see today. Access to the top is by a system of wooden staircases and platforms bolted to the rear and side of the structure — the original stone stairway is far too steep and eroded to use. The climb is long, humid and steep enough that people take it slowly, and it is entirely unsuitable for anyone with mobility or heart limitations. The upper platform is a stone terrace at the foot of the roof comb, with room for a few dozen people; park staff manage numbers on sunrise tours. The temple's own architecture is largely obscured by forest at close quarters, which is part of the experience — the building only resolves itself as a shape when seen from Temple I or from the air.

Getting there and timing. The temple is inside Tikal National Park; entry, a separate sunrise-tour supplement, and a guide are arranged at the gate. Most visitors base themselves in Flores, an hour away by road, or in one of the three hotels at the park entrance, which is the practical choice for anyone attempting the dawn climb, since the park opens early only for booked sunrise groups. In the dry season, from December to April, mist often lies in the canopy at first light and burns off within the hour — the effect that makes the classic photograph. In the wet season the same view can be lost entirely to cloud. Late afternoon is the alternative slot, with sunset over the forest to the west and howler monkeys starting up in the trees below.