The trip home
Up at 4am after a single hour of sleep. Still hear folks outside the window winding down from the night. Why did we even get a hotel room? Get dressed, pack our bags, and head out to find a cab. Walk along 5th avenue until we catch one waiting on a corner. We just beat an European couple to the taxi who look to be in a hurry, so Heather and I get bonus Amazing Race points. The taxi driver turns out to be the opposite of my other experiences with Mexican taxis - he drives the speed limit, his taxi is in impeccible shape, he observes all safety rules and regulations.
After about an hour, we arrive at the Cancun airport, pay our taxi 400 pesos (ouch is right), and get checked in. Since the line is moving slowly at the Continental check-in, we have plenty of time to notice all the sunburnt spring breakers.
Good flight to Houston, which arrives early enough for us to get on standby for an earlier flight to KC. Success on the earlier flight, and we arrive back in KC an hour and half ahead of schedule. Stepping back outside, we see 6 inches of snow and feel the bitterness of 30 degrees. Home sweet home.
Day 6
Yet again, very little sleep due to the wind. Anyone who has been in a storm in a tent can attest that it’s hard to sleep.
Dawn has arrived on our last day.
This morning I write in my journal and watch birds dive into the ocean for fish. After a short while, my 3 friends with machine guns wander by again. This time I wave, and they wave back, so I assume I won’t get shot.
No spontaneous activity today – we have a flight leaving in 24 hours (7am out of Cancun). We secured another free ride on the tour van back to Tulum at 9:30am. We’ll walk to the bus station and catch one to Playa Del Carmen, were we can stay for the last night.
Pack our bags, say goodbye to our little home, and head to the kitchen. We eat a slow breakfast until our van arrives at about 9am.
Load up along with the nice Italian/Brazilian couple we met yesterday. During the ride into town, we learn that they are traveling exactly as we are – by backpack, moving from small hotel to small hotel via public transportation. The one difference – they are doing it with a baby, and seemingly make it look easy. Much respect.
The van takes us directly to the bus station, where the next bus to Playa Del Carmen is an Autobus Segurndo, or 2nd class bus, but is leaving immediately.
We hop on, and it turns out to be only marginally less comfortable than the first class bus we’ve been taking. The trip takes about an hour to Playa, as the 2nd class bus makes many stops along the highway to pick up locals. We are the only tourists on this particular bus.
Back in Playa, we begin our hotel search. Hotel Kinbe is full. Hotel Posada D’Margo is full. Hotel Caribe y Sol is full. Finally, at Hotel Posada Freud right on 5th avenue, we find availability for one night. Since the room isn’t ready yet, we drop our bags off and see if we can arrange for transportation to the airport in the morning. A very helpful woman at a nearby shop lays out our options, but it seems that a taxi is the best bet that early in the morning. So a taxi it will be.
Head back the hotel, room is ready, and is quite nice. No A/C, though, and not much of a breeze, so the fan will be our friend.
We change into our swimsuits, stop at a mini-mart and pick up a 6-pack of Sol, and hit the beach. We order up some food, break out the beer, dig into our books, and enjoy a long afternoon.
Back to the hotel to change, and off for some souvenir shopping. We spend a couple of hours wandering through the small shops, bartering with the owners, which both Heather and I rather enjoy. Shop owners will make you feel like you are starving their family when you suggest a price. It’s a fun back and forth, and a good practice of the language.
We find a place to eat our supper, a nicer Mexican/Italian place with good food and strong margaritas. Making out way back to the hotel, we watch as an early-20s French man stops one of the mariachi bands on the street and asks to see their violin. He proceeds to play the most incredible bit of classical music from this seemingly very cheap violin. A crowd quickly gathers in a stunned silence to watch this young guy and his performance.
We finally get back to the hotel and call it a night, since we have to set the alarm for 4am. We quickly discover, though, that our hotel faces an outdoor restaurant with live music. Unless we want to shut some windows and create a giant oven, we’re forced to listen to the band, which we do from 9pm to 3:00am. What band plays for 6 hours? They must have gone through every classic rock song known to man. The lead singer didn’t even speak English, he only know the words phonetically. They finally pack it up at 3, and we fall asleep for a very quick night.
Day 5
Up even earlier than usual due to the early bed time. Grab the journal and sit outside on the beach to catch up.
I look up from my journal to see 3 armed patrolmen walking down the beach. National guard? Some sort of beach security? But why in such a remote place? There must be a dozen people on 5 miles of beach. I still don’t know.
One comment about the night – the wind was so consistently strong, that it felt like a storm the entire night. I woke up time after time thinking that the house was going to blow down before I remembered where I was.
Took a short swim before Heather got up, dressed, and went to the kitchen for breakfast. Enjoy watching a group of 3 Italian couples at the next table. One woman in particular sends her espresso back twice before she declares it satisfactory. Hopefully she’s good in bed to make up for that personality.
We decide that today’s agenda will be to walk south on the beach. We return to our tent, pack the backpack with a bit of food and water, and start walking. As we get further and further into seclusion, we see an enormous amount of trash on the upper banks of the beach, and strewn into the jungle. We find out later that the storm surge from Hurricane Wilma last fall basically deposited all the crap it picked up in Jamaica. A bit ugly, but very interesting.
After about 3 or 4 miles, we reach a beautiful stretch of beach lined with coconut palms. We spend an hour or two reading, swimming, and enjoying the total seclusion.
Packing back up, we turn back north and make our way to the tent. We’re tired from the trek, so we catch a short nap, then make our way down to the freshwater lagoon.
The lagoon is striking in it’s own way – several miles across, and what looks to be 2 or 3 feet deep the entire way.
Another couple with their baby (10 months, maybe?) are enjoying the late afternoon. We chat for quite a while – she is Brazilian, moved to Canada when she was 12, college in Switzerland where she met her Italian husband, and they now live in Mexico City. Conversely, she speaks 4 languages, and is probably a couple of years younger than Heather and I. They had the cutest little girl, Isabella.
Walk up to the kitchen overlook for a few drinks and sunset watching.
Move downstairs for a dinner of fresh fish and a few beers. The kitchen has a great painting of the Mayan way of life, and several real lizards are clinging to the wall it’s painted on.
Darkness has arrived, so we make our way to our tent, light some candles and retire to bed. I make a gallant effort not to dwell on the fact that tomorrow is our last day.
Day 4
Another early wake up for me. Head to Java Joes.
Take coffee down to the beach to sit and catch up the journal.
Watch a barracuda feed on a school of small fish. Head back to the hotel to get Heather and walk to a cafe to get breakfast. We agree to try for an earlier bus – 11am seems like a long time to wait, and an earlier start will give us more time to find lodging one we get into the wild. While Heather finishes breakfast, I run to the bus station and successful change our tickets to the 10:00am bus. We head back to the hotel to pack our stuff and say goodbye to our little hotel.
Arrive at the bus station early, so we grab some water and watch people come and go. Great place to see a variety of folks.
Board the bus on time and head south.
Dropping us off in the small community of Tulum, standing at the side of a dusty road, Heather and I are doing what we love to do best – exploring new places, not sure of what really to do next, but loving the feeling that we could do anything or go anywhere.
Tulum is a small town very near some dramatic Mayan ruins perched on a cliff overlooking the carribean. We need to find a route and accommodations into Sain Ka'an, so we begin to walk towards the center of town. After several blocks, we find an office that gives kayak tours of Sain Ka'an. When we explain what we're doing and where we're trying to go, they describe a great little placed called Cesiak, an eco-lodgy type of thing with thatched huts on the beach for $50 a night. Not only that, but if we want to wait around for another 2 hours, we can hook in with a passing tour bus for a free ride to the place. Since its 20km south on a bumpy road, this saves either a very long walk or an expensive taxi.
We drop our bags off at this office, and wander toward the ruins. We stop and watch a Mayan ritual in a park where they spin upside down along a pole – the picture will describe it well.
We then settle into a little place for a slowly paced lunch full of nachos and Sol.
Arrive back at the tour office, the van is waiting. The tour guide, an early twenty something straight out of Uconn, tells us that our lodge is 3rd on their stop to pick up folks for a sunset kayak tour, but there's plenty of room in the van for us to ride. He mentions that we'll be stopping at a cenote along the way, so we duck into the bathrooms and change into our swimsuits yet again. Our free ride is turning into a small adventure within itself.
The van heads east to a beach road, then quite a ways south. We stop to pick up a very nice French couple, a couple of stone cold lesbians and their daughter, and a quiet mid-40s couple from upstate New York. We finally arrive at the entrance to Sain Ka'an, and pull off onto a little road and stop.
Ambling along a jungle path through thick mangroves, we pass by a super cool, very large termite nest.
We finally reach the cenote, which is again spectacular. This one is quiet deep – 8 meters according to our tour guide. We all jump in and have a short swim. I don some snorkle goggles for a bit, and enjoy the scenery below.
We dry ourselves off, and continue our trek south. Another ½ hour later and we arrive at our destination, Cesiak. Thanking our tour guide for the free ride, we wander up the path to check in.
The place is outstanding. Our room is a canvas tent held inside a raised, thatched platform about a meter off the ground, and right on the beach. The ocean breeze flows right through the screen windows of the tent. No electricity, so it has a camping feel, and dependent on candle light at night. Bathrooms, showers, and the kitchen are centrally located and shared. On top of the central building is a nice lookout deck to view the pretty dramatic scenery – Carribean to the east, large freshwater lagoon to the west, and our little sliver of land doing the dividing north and south.
We empty our packs and walk along the beach. Not a single person as far as you can see. The beach is very natural looking – lots of seaweed washed up, coconuts in the sand. Heather reads for a bit while I play in the large waves.
After about an hour, we clean up and head to the kitchen for supper. Good Mayan food, although a bit pricey, but since its the only option, it is what it is.
We relocate to the upper deck to eat, and watch the sunset, which is striking. It's not often one is at a spot they can watch the sunrise over the ocean and the sunset over a lagoon, both from the same spot.
We head back to the tent, shower, and call it a night. It's probably 7pm. At this place, you operate with the sun. I appreciate that doing so is quite the point.
Day 3
Up early again. Definitely sunburnt in spots. Leaving Heather asleep in bed, I head to Java Joes to crab some coffee. Java Joes is owned by a couple of transplants from New Jersey, and is very popular because it's the only place in town open @ 6am. Everything else in town wakes up about 9am.
Sitting on a bench with my coffee, a local dude strikes up a conversation. He speaks English about as well as I speak Spanish, so it's a fun little challenge. He's on his day off, and him and his friends are going trolling for spring break girls (Note to self – no spring break trips for Josah). Excuse myself and head down to the beach to watch the sunrise and work on the journal.
Pass by 3 attractive spring breakers hanging with a couple of local guys, a pile of empty Dos Equis around them. Obviously have been up all night (Note to self – see previous note).
I think I'll propose to Heather renting a car and exploring cenotes today. Cenotes are unique to the Yucatan Peninsula – a geological phenomenon where the roof of an underground cave/river system collapses, with the resulting sinkhole filling with fresh water. They are usually pretty small, have quite clear water and lots of fish.
Head back, grab Heather, and get some breakfast at a place called Cafe Y Pan.
Back to hotel, pack a backpack, and head out to find snorkeling equipment and a rental car. Find both within a few blocks, although renting a car in Mexico always makes you feel like you're getting ripped off. There are 10 different types of insurance, and most travel guides recommend you take a majority of them. It ends up being half the cost of the rental.
We head south on highway 307 to Akumal Bay, which we're told has good snorkeling. Driving in Mexico is always interesting – one minute you're being passed by a vans going twice the speed limit, the other minute you're passing on the shoulder a smoking flatbed truck full of Mexicans that would be violating every safety regulation in the US.
Akumel Bay is Corona-commercial quality stuff.
However, it's very windy today, so we work our way to Yal Ku lagoon. This place turns out to be very cool, a protected lagoon full of fish and clear water. Snorkeling, we see giant rainbow fish about 4 feet in length, cool brain-like coral, and a few barracudas, which kind of creep one out.
We pack up and drive up the road, stopping at a great little seaside place for lunch. Total ambiance here with a rough-hewn table under a cabana, feet in the sand, and cold beer.
As we're eating, we watch the most amazing thing appear before out eyes – a tornado/water spout forming over the water out of a storm cloud. You can actually see the rotating water being pulled out of the ocean.
After lunch, we head back north and stop at Cenote Azul. It's actually pretty hard to describe, so I'll let the pictures do most of the talking. The cenote was at the end of a short jungle path, and absolutely incredible. Deep, amazingly clear green water filled with fish. Giant slabs of limestone, formerly the roof of the cave, at the bottom of the water.
But the best part – a 20 foot limestone cliff perched over the deep water on one side of the cenote, perfect for a nice long jump. I watch as a couple of other folks take the jump, find the path up to the top, and make the leap. What a freaking thrill. Swim and and do it again a few times. The fourth time, I finally talk Heather into jumping with me. We ask another guy who is there to use our digital camera to take a short video of our jump. Awesome.
Click for the video
After a couple of hours at the cenote, we head back to town, navigate the maze of one way streets, and drop the car and snorkeling equipment back off. While Heather is getting ready for dinner, I head to the nearby Internet Cafe. My friend Ryan has sent out the screenshot of Heather and I kissing on the webcam. My folks let us know that everything is good with the kids, and the weather is damn cold.
We find another small joint on 5th Ave for dinner, and watch people. We decide that tomorrow we will take the bus south to the next large town, Tulum, and then further south to a national park called Sian Ka'an. While we're waiting for our food, I walk down to the bus station and purchase 2 tickets to Tulum – 32 pesos apiece – leaving at 11am the next morning. Love the small little thrill of buying those tickets, not knowing what's at the end of the route.
While we eat, a family (father, brother, son?) sets up this large xylophone nearby and plays for ½ an hour or so. Very nice addition to the atmosphere. One more long walk to watch the people, then call it a night. Tomorrow we move on.
