Via Byway, My Way.

Journal entry Sunday, March 19th:

Surreal.  Barreling down a dusty, bumpy and windy logging road to the small co-op community of Carmelita.  It is pitch black except for the high beam, then low beam, of the Toyota pick up I am riding.  In the back I cling to the back of the tail, my legs scrunched by the packs, food and legs of Markus, Kirk, Adoniz, Julio, and four others we have picked up along the way, including one infant that the mother cradles in her free arm.  We fly through the night, the wind in my hair and the ocassional logging truck passing the other direction, whipping a huge dust cloud in our face, our eyes, and our air we breathe.  The ceiling above is pierced with thousands of shining twinkles of the heavens.  It takes us almost 3 hours along that road, from the setting sun to the chill of the night.  This is the way to do it.  Just surreal.  Is this a dream?  Am I actually doing this?  I’m in the middle of nowhere and no one really knows where I am.  I hope I make it back to the hotel with the pool, the ice cream, and a clean, hot shower.

 

 

– TRIP BEGINNINGS –

I met Markus my second week in Xela, and we got to talking about our plans of traveling after our schooling was over.  He had mentioned a hike that he read about to El Mirador, a hard to reach land of Mayan ruins just below the Mexican border.  That planted the seed.  A few weeks later, I was online to read more about this jungle trek to El Mirador.  My Lonely Planet guidebook had a little blurb about it, but I needed more info.  And what I found I wrote down, and the next day handed it to Markus for him to look into.  That was all it took.  We knew that at some point, we would hike El Mirador.

A local touring outfit offered a trip to El Mirador with free transportation included.  Not a bad deal, everything was all planned out.  But the dates were fast approaching, and the tour did not allow for any time to do any extra touring up to Flores and Tikal, the site of major Mayan ruins.  We bypassed that offer.  More weeks pass, I finish my studies and decide to go on hikes around the area.  I plan on doing a 6 day trek, when Markus informs me that he is going to El Mirador with Kirk, and that I should join them next week.

Next week?  In mid-March?  I was actually thinking of ending my trip with El Mirador, in May.  But he had already made the arrangements.  And I did not know it at the time, but March is the ideal time to hike it, because it is still the dry season when the conditions are ideal and there aren’t as many mosquitoes to fight with.  It was on.

 

Friday, March 17th.

I meet up with Kirk and Markus at school at 1pm, 3pm bus ride to Guatemala City.  Kirk and I find a comedor and order two hamburgers.  Instead, we get chicken patties.  The bus ride is long.  2 screaming, wailing babies.  Heavy traffic.  Slow going, especially getting stuck behind big rig trucks, clamoring up the steep mountain roads.  In the middle of my seat, there is some piece of metal that jabs into the small of my back, just above my ass.  And my chair won’t recline fully back and lock into position, it keeps wanting to spring forward into the sitting position.  It is hot.  Humid.  Can I get some air?  Kirk doesn’t look so good.  He informs us that the food in the comedor is not sitting well in his stomach.  As a matter of fact, he says his system has processed it.  He wanted to wait until we got into the city and bus station, but he needs to go now.  He disappears towards the back, where the bathroom waits.  He returns a minute later.  “It is locked,” he says matter of factly.  “There’s a lock on it.”  No lie.  There was actually a padlock on the bathroom.  Kirk would have to wait this one out.  Markus is hungry.  The bus is packed, people standing in the aisle.  It sure is hot.  And dark.  The sun sets.  My personal seat light above me doesn’t work.  It is now 4 hours on this bus.  We want off. 

At 7:20 our bus pulls into the final stop….a gas station?  Yep, the big yellow sign of Shell.  Everyone deboards, our bags below are tossed out to the ground.  At least the gas station has a bathroom.  Kirk is one of the first off, and he tells us to grab his bag.  We get our stuff, walk over to the food market, and we see Kirk standing there helpless.  Seems that just as he was heading to the only bathroom, some guy (not even on the bus, just some random customer) decides that he wants to use the bathroom.  So Kirk has to wait.  And he’s not happy.

Markus is hungry, and orders a sandwich from the deli.  Similar to a Subway set up.  I feel like I won’t find any other quality food, so I order as well.  After Kirk finally gets to use the bathroom, he orders a sandwich to go.  We have to get to the Lineas Dorias bus line, and our map in the guidebook shows that we are only a few blocks away.  But this seems to be a very seedy and sketchy side of town.  We decide to take the cab.

We arrive to the station, and buy tickets for the 9pm departure.  It is supposed to be an overnight luxury ride.  It is, kind of.  The seats are comfy, we have seat pockets in front of us.  A TV monitor is in front, and soon is playing “The Legend of Zorro” (English with Spanish subtitles).  Blankets are distributed.  And we even get a meal!  I choose a Pepsi, Kirk and Marcus get the bottled water.  I open up my stryrofoam box and find…. a small roll cut in the middle, filled with a sad looking hamburger patty with ketchup.  And there is a small bag of chips and a napkin.  I decide to eat it sooner than later, just in case the meat decides to go bad in the middle of the night.  It isn’t even warm.

I watch the flick, Markus and Kirk go to sleep.  It is near 11:30 when I try to get some rest.  But I can’t.  Not happening.  At 3am, we stop for a Fruit Inspection?  What?  Yeah, you heard right.  Still don’t know what that is about.  I try to resume any type of rest that resembles sleep.  And at 5:30am, we pull into Santa Elena.  If we want to go to Flores, we have to get a free shuttle.  But we don’t…our guide is supposed to be waiting for us at the bus station.

We get off the bus, collect our bags.  Even at 5:30 in the morning, there is a flurry of activity.  The locals know when these buses full of tourists comes.  Immediately we are greeted with people offering rides, hotels and tours to Tikal, El Mirador, and other sights.  Markus is the best at Spanish, and our de facto leader, since he made all the arrangements.  Kirk and I are really just along for the ride.

Markus has a cell phone.  And manages to call the guide.  We wait around the station, and finally around 6am we meet our guide.  Adoniz.  His wife Brenda is with him.  Their eldest son drives the pick up.  Introductions all around, then Markus explains what we want.  We’d like to leave our bags with them, take a bus to Tikal, explore the Mayan ruins for the morning, and come back in the afternoon back to Santa Elena, where they can pick us up and we make our way to Carmelita.  All is good.  We pile into the pick up, and they take us to the shuttle bus.  Some guy tells us that fare is 80Q per person, round trip.  We fork over 240Q.  Later I find out that the real price is only 50Q per person.  Ripped off.

We take the shuttle, arrive around 8am to Tikal.  Have breakfast at a local comedor.  Never mind the hair in my pancakes, or the smashed, dead bug inside the honey bottle (they don’t have syrup, only honey), or the dead bug that flows out of the squeeze bottle in a droplet of honey onto my plate.  We are here to have fun, explore, and enjoy the ruins.  We spend the day touring Tikal.  Pics of Tikal will be in a future post.

Return on the shuttle bus back to Santa Elena.  We need money to pay the guides.  Flores seems more developed, so we ask to get dropped off there.  But no ATM.  We are hungry, so decide to splurge on the best restaurant there, La Luna (no relation to Xela´s Cafe La Luna). 

 

Steaks for Kirk and Markus, I get the cheaper burger and fries.

 

Afterwards, we make the obligatory Sarita stop for ice cream.  This is the first time in my life that I order a double scoop.  And thus begins my addiction for doublescoop ice creams.

 

We find a spot by the lake and try to lick and eat our ice cream quickly, as the hot sun melts the flavors onto our cone and onto our hands.

 

After our late lunch and dessert, we walk across the bridge and to Santa Elena, where we wait over an hour for our ride.  They take us to the ATMs, where we withdraw enough funds to cover the entire trip, and prepay all at once.  Then it is off to Carmelita…or so we think.

No, first we make a stop so Brenda can buy eggs.  Which takes 20 minutes.  We bake in the back of the pick up.  How could buying eggs take so long?  She finally returns, and we are on our way….but wait!  We make a stop so that the son can pick up a….truck tire?  A used truck tire for the pick up?  Yes, and he loads it until the back with us.  Now we can get on our way!  Think again.  We stop for gas.  And while they are filling, there is a little comotion, then concern.  Seems like there is a tank leak.  We are leaking gas.  Kirk is not cool with this.  But after further discovery, it seems like it is only a tube that has been severed…apparently gas theft is a problem, and someone stole gas a few nights before and damaged an intake tube.  Kirk assured us that it was not a major problem, and we were on our way.

The last 24 hours from Xela to the gas station didn’t seem to bode well for this little trip.  All the little things on the bus.  Getting ripped off.  The funny breakfast meal with the extras I didn’t ask for.  The waiting for the guides.  The extra stops.  Who were these guides, anyway?  What web site or link did I give Markus?  Markus made all the arrangements, and Kirk and I were just going with his judgement.  I don’t know about Markus, but Kirk and I had little seeds of doubt about how this whole experience would turn out.

The afternoon light is slowly fading away.  From the gas station, we truck it over to San Andreas, where our guides live and where we pick up all our gear and add Julio, the guy who takes care of the mules.

 

Kirk and Markus, riding in the back of the pick up to San Andreas, when we actually had room to spread out and stretch out our legs.

 

Packing up the pick up.  Eventually we would squeeze a total of 9 people back here, with all of our gear and all.  Adoniz is on the left, Julio on the right, securing our load with ropes.

 

 

Guard station to the National Park and forest.  Unfortunately, logging in some capacity is allowed by the government, so during our excursion to Carmelita, four or five of these trucks carrying those beautiful hardwood beahemoths would pass us in the opposite direction. 

 

We finally leave from San Andreas at around 6pm, and it is a short stop before we get to the gate.  We wait here for 15 minutes, don’t know why.  But whatever issues they have, it is resolved and we are on our way.  An hour and change later, it is completely dark as we pass by Cruises dos Agua, the very last pueblo with electricity.  Further on, we make a short 5 minute stop at San Miguel, a small village powered by generators.  We are stopped by the side of the road, right next to an evangelical church.  Through the open doors you can see the small congregation swaying back and forth, and then you hear the worst singing in the world belting out hymns that are way off tune and really quite embarrassing.  It is an amusing diversion before we climb back on the pick up truck, and continue on into the night.

Finally, 9pm we pull into Carmelita.  Again, no electricty.  We have our headlamps, and make our way into a small 2 room home.  It is the home of Adoniz’s uncle.  They quickly set up hammocks for us to sleep in, and prepare a simple and common meal of black beans, eggs, and tortillas to fill our stomachs before we go to bed.  At least we had some pineapple to go with the meal!

 

The home was completely dark except for our flashlights and headlamp.  I took this picture in the dark, and my flash flooded the room with light.

 

My hammock for the night.

 

The second room in the home, a small kitchen and table for eating.  Notice that container full of black beans.  There is the freshly cut pineapple, and in the background is the wood fired plancha used for grilling and cooking fresh tortillas.  The candle and my camera flash lights the small room.

 

We retire to our hammocks around 10:30.  We are tired and get pretty good sleep, ready for the adventures that we will soon begin early the next morning…

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Does that guy still anchor the desk at SNL?? It’s been too long since I last watched an episode, aside from those special theme clips they play every now and then. “The best of Chris Farley,” “Tribute to Phil Hartman,” “SNL’s Funniest Moments with People You’ve Never Heard from Again.”…

It’s been a very relaxing last few days hanging out in Isla Mujeres. Seems as if I’m retracing Mike’s steps from his visit to this part of the Yucatan…but instead of a moped, I ended up renting a mountain bike and spent most of the day leisurely cycling the island and finding little rocky bluffs and secluded shoreline to read my book, chapter by chapter, and then continue to another hidden or not-so-hidden spot and continue with my reading. I’m in the midst of a Dan Brown novel, “Angels & Demons”, and hopefully can get my hands on the next in line “The DaVinci Code” before i watch the movie. But finding English books down here has been a struggle; I have picked up another book or two along the way since Vallodolid to keep my occupied as I laze away in the sand on the beaches.

From my bike ride..

Rocky bluff.

Cool house resembling a seashell

Another vantage point, underneath a palapa and looking down at Garrafundo resort.

I can’t boast that I did any reading from this vantage point; but the guards to this hotel did at least allow me in to take a look around.

I spent most of the afternoon in the warm, shallow waters of the North Beach. Just sitting, wading, swimming, floating, thinking of nothing and of everything.

And what is hanging out at the beach without my obligatory sunset photo?

North Beach has many bar/restaurants, and they rent out every kind of relaxation apparatus imaginable–private cabana, palapa shade, lounge chairs, hammocks, regular chairs, even these mattresses.

 

I only spent one night in Cancun, but what a night it was!  I wasn’t entirely impressed with my choices of hostels, so I did what any backpacker would do…I splurged for one night, one night only at the Le Merida!

 

The pool alone justified the $280 per night cost of my room.  Pure bliss.

 

Another pool on the other side of the resort.

 

And just beyond, the endless expanse of the beach, where you sink your toes into the warm, soft sand and wait for the Carribbean the wash them over.

 

Okay, I know I fooled absolutely nobody with my claim of staying one night at the Le Merida.  Blow 11 days budget on one night just because of the pool?  I’m not even sure I would have been lucky enough to get a room for ‘only’ $280, it just so happened that another place quoted me $280 and that was enough to dash that dream.  But it was fun to imagine, even for just a few minutes, how the other half lives.  That is, until the guards identified my haggared appearance, unkept big head hair, and dirty shirt.  Definitely out of place, not where I belong.  I even tried to play cool and coy and asked if they had a restaurant that I could eat breakfast in.  Not that I would even think about spending the $25 (dollars, not pesos) on a plate of eggs, bacon and toast.  No, had I the financial means, I wouldn’t have even been able to eat there.  The answer, more often that not, was a resounding “No.”  Because apparently, most of the hotels were either “All Inclusive” properties only for their guest, or they were Members Only.  But that’s okay, because just you wait, one day, ONE DAY, I’ll own all these resort properties on this coastal strip.  Maybe I’ll start with these ones below…

Last year THE hurricane, I forget which one, came in and damaged many many hotels, some to the point where it was a complete loss.  This hotel, like the Ritz Carlton just beyond, still had not reopened.

 

Others were just about ready.

 

And still others, the verdict is still out.

 

The beaches though are still beautiful.  But for $280 or more a night, I’d recommend going to Isla Mujeres instead.  The island is small and people get around on bikes, mopeds, or golf carts.  The main part of town near North Beach is easily walked on foot, and at night, just off the main plaza, they close off the street to create a pedestrian only zone.  It is here where you will find the heart of the nightlife, dining under the stars and surrounded by conversation, laughter, music, and endless promotions for 2 for 1 drink Happy Hour.  It is like a mini French Quarter where everyone comes to enjoy the evening. 

Sure, Isla Mujeres is a little touristy, but there is a reason why people come here.  They come to shop, dine, drink, play, relax, swim, explore, rest, lounge, sun, shade, reenergize, read, write, contemplate, escape, and define just what a vacation means to them.  Time manages to slip away and I am lost, intoxicated with doing nothing but enjoying the moment.

Alas, it is time to say goodbye to Isla Mujeres.  Soon I will be on the ferry back to Cancun, where I will climb aboard a bus destined for Playa del Carmen, and hope to lather, rinse, repeat in the joy of the Carribbean, Yucatan style.

I’m currently relaxing on the beach of Isla Mujeres, reading, of course, and enjoying the laid-back vibe of this beautiful place. So here is an entry I wrote a long time ago and never had a chance to post, which is just a good excuse to get back to my reading. If I feel so inspired I should have a new entry for this Friday…

Cafe La Luna deserves it’s own post. Located just 2 blocks from school, this cozy and long established cafe restaurant is THE place to go for hot chocolate, coffee and pastries. You can study here, socialize, or listen to some really good live music. The second time I went here an acoustic guitarist played.

Cafe La Luna serves different variations of hot chocolate and coffee, along with pastries, sandwiches and other nibbles.  The hot chocolate is simply rich, smooth and unforgettable.  Seriously, it’s like drinking a hot, melted bar of chocolate. I don’t know what they put into the chocolate drinks and I still can’t read most of the menu, so I just experiment and order the specials of the day and pick and choose from different categories. I haven’t been disappointed yet.

Hours, unfortunately, are limited. They close up shop at 9pm, even on weekends. Therefore, when we need a late night hang out, we go downstairs to a separate entrance to their sister venture, Vino y Queso. It’s La Luna’s cheese and wine bar. If we get there before 9pm, we can still order off of the La Luna menu.  One Friday after our school program/dinner, 8 of us converged downstairs for food, desserts, wine and cheese. Total bill?  Under $40 US!  This included 2 different bottles of red wine and a platter of four cheeses cut into cubes. 2 of us, me and a girl from Sweden, also ordered the special dish of the day. And 4 of us, including me of course, ordered dessert. My share of all my food and drink came to 53 quetzals, or just over $7.

The wine bar / cellar, downstairs from La Luna (but owned by the same people).

There is a second adjacent room that has a larger table for bigger groups, but the lighting is very dim and my pictures didn’t quite come out.

Finally, real food! This is the special of the day, which was just great!

My dessert from a Friday, a moist and rich cake with fresh strawberries. Mitzy had the apple strudel with a scoop of vanilla ice cream…

This picture probably won’t come out, but it is all of us at the table.

It’s hotter than Orcish hell down here, but it’s better than rowing a slave galley.

This is really the first time I’ve had in a long time to post an update as to my whereabouts and what I’ve been up to…I’m hoping that this very very slow Internet connection that I’m dealing with won’t drive me too mad and up the wall!  For the past 10 days I’ve been mostly hiding out, hanging out, keeping a low profile…I need to somehow convince the US Embassy that I had no involvement with the CIA sting operation that I stumbled upon while taking a stroll through (unbeknownest to me) a major drug trafficking operation in the jungles of Monteguenox.  My hired guide was quick as lightening and we were able to get away, but the next day I found myself being questioned by Mexican authorities (I just played my “No hablo Español” gimmick–actually, it can’t be called a gimmick because I really don’t speak Spanish!–) at any rate, I then found myself in the company of our own US government officials trying to coax out of me things I didn’t see or hear.  And they let me go.  And I’ve been on the run ever since, keeping to my business, knowing that I am being followed and I know deep down inside that they will read this blog and hopefully know that I really have no idea what has transpired.

Paranoid?  Sure am. 

But not for the CIA conspiracy theory.  Guess I’ve been reading too much of late, which I’ll get to in a minute.  Nah, my paranoia stems from being attacked, attacked by invisible forces every sleepless night that now plague my waking hours.  I am in a fully heightened state of awareness that brinks on the paranoid, as my body burns, swells and throbs with the poisons of the hundreds of needles that prick the outlayer of my skin, leaving scarred marks for the rest of my life to remind me of my travels here in the Yucatan.

Mosquitos.  Ticks.  Fleas.  Bugs.  Insects.  Little unseen critters that attack me every single night!  I can’t see them.  But I hear them.  Buzzing and whirring, playing with my senses and freaking me out.  It’s like Edgar Allen Poe’s Tell- Tale Heart.  Am I going mad???  No, I have the proof.  All over my wrists and arms, and now my legs.  Little round protrusions on my skin, reddened, glowing, pulsating.  Yes I’m paranoid.  I’ve slept the last few nights fully clothed–socks, pants, long sleeved REI buttond-down trekker shirt, 99 cent gloves, a banana covering my neck, and a mosquito/insect net fully covering my head, which rests underneath my ballcap hat.  Did I mention that it is hotter than Orcish hell down here?  But ah, thinking of the luxuries of home make this current state a temporary one, one that will pass and one that I can laugh off at a later time. 

Obsession.  Not with some great food dish or drink I’ve discovered (good thing I haven’t found a Sarita ice cream shop down here).  Not with another extreme jungle hike or hardcore , must-do outdoor activity.  Nor obsession with a woman I met.  Nope.  The last 10 days I have been obsessed with devouring everything I can find written in English.  With reading.  In Merida, I came across a bookstore with paperback novels.  And left with 6 books.  Since then I’ve scored 4 more.  I’m now finishing my 7th book.  I’ve read Sci-Fi, Fantasy, international thrillers, fiction, an autobiography, travel memoirs, even a chick book.  I’m obsessed, what can I say?  But the setting is sooo perfect for just wasting the time away while lazing on a hammock, or propping my feet up by the sand while the water laps the sandy shore…

Before I forget, Happy May Day to you all!  It totally didn’t occur to me until, as I was walking to this super slow connection internet cafe, a police convoy stopped traffic in the street as a large parade of workers with signs swept by.  May Day, aka International Workers Day, unofficially recognized in the U.S., and as I recall a few years back, sometimes a spectacle when you get the more vocal demonstrators out there.

 

 

Oh, and also, if you haven’t had a chance to read some of the comments posted by my friend Mike, please take a look.  Because my so-called adventures pale in comparison to our beloved pall Dank, who seriously needs his own Blog, because his stories and experiences are not only unbelieveably true, they are Legendary.  This guy will be famous one day, and I think it is up to Mike and myself to see to it that his stories are published and known the world over.  Pure, utter entertainment, in the sense that this can’t be true, cannot be remotely possible, but Alas, it surely is.  I can’t wait to get home to hear the latest! 

This super slow connection is starting to get on my nerves, so I’ll try to make the rest of this update free of any further ramblings.  Below you will find how I’ve spent the last 10 days since my last post, when I was waiting for my 10pm bus to get me into Campeche at 3 in the morning.  Fortunately or unfortunately depending on how one looks at it, the bus was delayed and I didn’t get into Campeche until 5am.  I waited around until 7, then made the 45 minute hike to my hostel, and then fell in love with my surroundings…

 

– CAMPECHE –

The view from the balcony of Monkey Hostel, which overlooks the Parque Principal and the church.  Saturday and Sunday they block off the streets surrounding the square, and vendors come in selling pastries, food, gifts, etc. 

 

A similar view from the balcony in the evening.

 

Close to the square is this fountain that has cued music playing to the rise and fall of the waters.  And behind this, two clowns were entertaining kids and their parents with their balloon animals and tricks and jokes.

 

Another view of the church, Catedral de la Concepcion Inmaculada.

 

Campeche is a Unesco World Heritage site, located right on the Gulf of Mexico.  About an hour’s walk from the Parque Principal, is the Fuerte de San Miguel (colonial fortress), which houses a archaeological museum and has views of the city and the Gulf.

Another view from the Fort.  Campeche used to be a walled city, and some sections of the wall and bastions still exist today.  The best part was just hanging out in the Parque, or people watching from above on my balcony perch of the youth hostel.  This is also where I began my book reading obsession.

 

– MERIDA –

 

Another great colonial city, their Parque Principal is called Plaza Grande, about 3 times larger than the one in Campeche, with probably 10 times more people hanging out.  Surrounding by colonical buildings with park benches, trees and a serenade of hundreds of chirping birds, this place was just hopping, especially on the “Ciudad Domingo”, when the adjoining streets were all closed off and it was one big party of music, dancing, vendors, food and so many families and people.

 

The crowd gathers around this traditional Yucatan dancing troup and their live band.

 

Live music plays, the sounds drifting all the way to the Catedral de San Ildefonso on the other side of the park.

 

The Paseo de Montejo is a major car and walking boulevard that mimicks Paris’ Champs-Elysees.  This monument is one of many along the wide boulevard.

 

– PROGRESSO –

 

I took a day trip to Progresso, and spent my day reading my book in the shade of a palm tree.  Most of the palapas and beach side restaurants were filled with tourists off of a Carnival Cruise ship that was in port.

 

Another view of the beach.  Of course I was envious of those cruise ship passengers…couldn’t get my mind off of those lavish buffets!  Fortunately I had a small sandwich to keep my hunger pangs at bay.

 

– CELESTUN –

There is absolutely nothing to do in Celestun.  Except read and relax and enjoy the beach, which is exactly what I did.  I was practically the only person in my hostel, and my days would consist of getting up for a bowl of granola and yogurt, then walking across the street to the beach to a lounge chair and basically staying there all day.

 

When I needed to rest my eyes from all my reading, when I looked up, this is what I would see.

 

Of course I’d put my book down to enjoy the last light of the fading day, before returning to my hammock at the hostel and the artificial light of a lamp.

 

– RESERVA DE LA BIOSFERA RIA CELESTUN –

A speedboat tour of the wildlife sanctuary, primarily of a large flamingo colony.

 

Our boat.  It was me and a guy from Germany, two guys from Denmark, and our guide.

 

This is about as close as we could get to take pictures of the flamingos…if only I had a better zoom!  Still, it was pretty cool to capture the scene.

 

We continued our tour to a mangrove area, where the tree roots somehow seem to float above the water.

 

We moor our boat to the dock, then walk down this pathway to clear water swimming hole.

 

The swimming hole amongst the mangrove trees.

 

Afterwards, Steffen and I treated ourselves to a beautiful seafood meal a fabulous beachside restaurant.

 

– VALLADOLID –

For the last 4 days I have been hanging out in this small town, using it as a base for doing daytrips around the area.  It’s not quite as lovely as Campeche or Merida, but the hostel is exceptional and very comfortable for my low energy activities of doing nothing.

 

 The main plaza.  Just like in Campeche and Merida, this is the central place to people watch, take a stroll, or buy that ice cream from the bicycle vendor.  Last night was the day for Children, so the park was all dressed up for kids activities — games, music, an art area, etc.  What is truly hard for me to believe is how late people stay out.  On a Sunday night, at 11pm, the place was till packed with families and kids.  No school today or something??

 

– CHICHEN ITZA –

Mayan ruins, very well preserved.  The highlight is El Castillo, 25 meters high and actually the Mayan calendar formed in stone.  Hard to explain, just take my word for it.

 

El Castillo.  The pyramid is closed off, so no climbing atop those steps.  During the equinox, the lights and shadows of the sun reflect off the pyramid to create an effect of a creeping serpent.  They recreate this show every evening with artificial lights. 

 

Grupo De Las Mil Columnas.  These ruinds was pretty cool, as the columns contain carvings of warriors.  Another structure nearby “The Platform of Skulls”, is adorned with carved skulls and eagles tearing open the chests of men to eat their hearts.  Chichen Itza ruins are amazing because these people were so into serpents and warriors and human sacrifice, and there are hints and traces of this in almost every structure.

 

 

– CENOTE DZITNUP –

 

I rented a mountain bike and biked out to this cenote, which is an underground limestone cave filled with water.  When I arrived, it was just me and 6 other people to enjoy the cool, refreshing waters.  45 minutes later, and we had 30 more people join in.  I was still haunted from my swimming experience from Semuc Champey, so I didn’t stray too far into the outer reaches of the cave, prefering to dabble close to the rocks where I could actually stand. 

 

– COBA –

 All ruins have their own flavor and uniqueness, and this was certainly no different.  The site is large.  So large in fact, that it necessitates the use of renting a bicycle.  Sure, you can walk through the scorching heat with the mosquitoes, 1 km between each of the major sites, or you can rent a bike and pedal yourself.  Or you can go a step further, and hire someone to bike you around.  I elected to pedal myself.

Templo 10.

 

 

Nohoch Mul (Big Mound), this pyramid rises 42 meters and is the tallest Mayan structure on the Yucatan Peninsula.

 

Catching my breath at the top.  Below in the left hand corner you can see Templo 10.  The ruins of Coba are not fully unearthed like those in Chichen Itza, so you really get the sense of how the jungle can take over the ruins before they are discovered and restored.

 

On the bike, I could not even imagine trying to walk the great distances between each major group of ruins.

 

A map of Coba.

 

– ONWARD –

So now it is Monday late morning, and I think I shall be heading off to Cancun this afternoon.  I’ve heard a lot about how ugly it is, so I may just be there a day before heading off to the beaches north and south of there.  Or I could stay here for another day and do what I have been doing, which again, has been keeping a low profile and just reading.  It is hotter than Orcish hell down here, but at least it’s better than rowing a slave galley (ie see http://www.thraxas.com/ for more info).

 

One final look at my hostel’s garden with hammocks….maybe I should stay another day…