Mexico - Yucatan, Quintana Roo, Campeche
Anna's entry:
We finally landed at the Manuel Crescencio Rejón International
Airport... It has been two years since we travelled internationally due
to the global shutdown, but it felt even longer. The first thing I
remember after stepping out of the airport was a so-familiar sensation -
tropical air hitting me on the face, and the scents and sounds that I
missed so much. We were actually supposed to be in a different "M.E."
part of the world at this time - Middle East. However, due to personal
circumstances (and geopolitical events), I had to re-route and re-plan
the entire trip, and brought us to a different "M.E." - Mexico that is.
It has been a while (about 18 years to be exact) since the last time
we visited Mexico. A lot has changed in those years... And,
yet - coming here this time was like reconnecting with an old friend. I
really needed this M.E. trip for ME - the recent (and not so recent)
devastating events finally had their impact on me. I think I started to
forget what it was like to have a good laugh, or just smile for no
apparent reason - just feeling happy and experiencing life as we know it... I realized that a
re-set was needed, and so I'd decided to make my first humble attempt to
return to our familiar world - world of travel, where every day we have a
chance to start again...
Merida
A
blaring Bon Jovi's Livin' on a Prayer song was our first introduction
to Merida as we boarded an old bus packed with locals from a highway stop near the airport. I found that particular song
quite symbolic to start the journey, under the circumstances.
About half an hour later, we got off the bus in the center of Merida
surrounded by traffic, noise, crowds, narrow lanes, market stalls,
sellers, buyers, and oh-so-familiar from so many prior travel
experiences - a sense of the initial conundrum and disorientation. And,
just like riding a bicycle or getting back in a saddle, it took only a
moment to regain the confidence and start moving in the right direction.
I had
pre-selected a place for us to stay at. It was about 1.5 kilometers
walking distance from the Merida's center. We walked along narrow lanes
surrounded by magnificent colonial buildings to reach our respite. A
lovely young Mexican-Spanish couple was running this adobe, and I chose
to stay in a private tiny simple bungalow in their garden surrounded by
orange trees. We had our own outside area and even a small pool. It
felt like a little oasis to escape the noise of the city and have a
peaceful breakfast every morning there. We also had access to the fully
equipped family's kitchen and a fridge - a big deal in the tropical
conditions. Every other day we would go to a huge local market and load
up on the ripest local fruits - the most delicious, sweet and candy-like
papayas,
mangoes and pineapples. We were a short
walking distance from a local cathedral and a plaza which every Tuesday
evening local residents would utilize for their dancing under the stars.
And, then there were all those dearly missed local treats - sweet and
creamy
horchatas and pina coladas, and my new personal favourite - queso de bollo helados (cheese
ice cream). We would eat all our meals at local eateries packed with
local families, and on occasion would pick up a couple of cheese-cake
slices desserts from a supermarket to go with my morning coffee. And, little by little, smiles began returning...
Merida
is known to be a vibrant cultural capital - every night there was a
performance or festivity taking place in the central plazas - right
under the night sky. There were so many free outdoor events happening
all the time, and the city was so safe to walk around and enjoy at any time of day or night. In
many ways, the architecture kept reminding me of various parts of the
city I grew up in - St. Petersburg, Russia. And, so was the city's
attitude - the outgoing nature to enjoy and embrace the celebrations and
culture. We attended tons of activities, both local and international -
dancing on a square to local bands, being mesmerized by passionate Flamenco performers, embracing heart-evoking Arabic singing, enjoying
incredible African acrobats, and witnessing a pok-a-tok - the ancient Maya ball game... This was also the first time that I finally
understood jazz - that night's performance left me absolutely speechless. And, my most memorable
connection - embracing, without holding any tears
back, a highly emotional
and beautiful performance by a Portuguese singer - right under the stars
and night sky, surrounded by historical cathedral walls with moonlight
falling on our shoulders... I had a flood of memories and associations
during her performance - it
was intense, but therapeutic at the same time...
Every day brought moments and associations that made me appreciate again the time and the journey... I began returning to my usual self. I began feeling things again. And, it was just the beginning...
Piste & Chichén Itzá - the REAL one
And then there was rain... They say that the Mayans used to sacrifice humans by throwing them into a cenote to appease the God of rain. A modern version of that must be packing a cenote with an unlimited number of tourists. And, there were or a LOT of them being
brought in by tour buses from all directions. In either case, it worked
- it has been raining non-stop here, in Piste-Chichén Itzá.
Originally,
I chose to stay in Piste to position us a walking distance to the
famous Chichén Itzá so we could get there right after sunrise and avoid
tourist crowds - after all, Chichén Itzá is considered to be one of the New Seven Wonders of the World
. However, after further and more detailed
research I concluded that Chichén Itzá was absolutely not worth it.
Temple of Kukulkan - the hype of the entire tourist circus just did not
seem that "wonder" to me. Sure, it is a very cleverly built and
designed structure with various implications related to astronomy, etc. -
however, having visited so many other grand sites such as Palenque,
Tikal, etc., the Kukulkan seemed just OK. Maybe it is all the hype and
non-stop tourist buses that really turned me off the place like this,
but I ABSOLUTELY REFUSED to join the circus.
Instead, I decided to dedicate our time here to exploring the cenotes
and enjoying the local life. It most definitely paid off. Not being
in a hurry, local people would stop and chat with us, many of them
proudly sharing stories about their Mayan background. We found several
local inexpensive eateries that treated us very well; the place where we
stayed also saw us to be different and not typical tourists which
resulted (I must admit) in preferential treatment - such as unexpected
extra treats "on a house". One afternoon, a hotel lady brought us two
varieties of local beers to try absolutely for free! And, other days,
the hotel employees were happy to include us in their routine, but
unusual activities - such as retrieving their pet parrots from the tall
trees and roofs and settling them in for the night - which was quite a
procedure. And, my personal favourite - a lovely humble Mayan gentleman
who would keep replenishing sweet bread for us in the morning that he
would pick up from a local store. He would commute by bicycle every
day, and one morning having arrived at our hotel, he immediately started
removing all the rain water accumulated on our little porch so we could
enjoy our coffee and sweet treats - a cozy morning routine that became a
small tradition. I also remember that parrots were absolutely
"pissed" that day... Due to the massive rain, the hotel staff were busy
and did not take the parrots out first thing in the morning of their
nightly home (i.e. cages) - poor parrots had to "endure" wet dripping
towels (served as their roof) for longer that they cared too, and they
behaved very feisty the rest of the day.
We
also would venture on a few walks around Piste village and stopping at
random places - to pick up a simple local desert or trying a (free)
delicious xtabentun sample, or pause and observe dilapidated
houses covered in vines, or just sit down in so-called "kissing chairs"
near old and brightly painted church walls and just watch the world go
by. Once, while having a bowl of soup at a family-run eatery by the
road side, a pack of stray dogs came by - one of the dogs decided that
my backpack would become his pillow, and he unceremoniously placed his
head on my lap and fell asleep while standing. In some strange way, it
all made sense. A pure wholesome simplicity of things - either that, or
the dog was waiting to leak my soup bowl, and I would prefer to think
it was the former. In either case, accepting Piste and its slow pace of
life, away from tourist crowds, was exactly what I enjoyed about it. For me, it is the real side of Chichén Itza and the gentle nature of its residents was the true wonder of the world...
Cenote Ik Kil and Tsukan Sentuario
Regarding the cenotes... The secret was to get there early. We actually had the ENTIRE cenote
to ourselves almost for an hour, and it was truly magical. I remember
floating in the water surrounded by reflections of massive colorful
stalagmites - they looked like hands and fingers of a giant frozen in
time for centuries... Above our heads there were domes opening to the
sky and hundreds if birds were circling over and over among long tree
roots descending from the sky... "WOW!" moment for sure. An hour
later, once the tourists came, the magic stopped. But, the hour before
then - that one I WILL remember.
We used public transport only - no tours, no taxis. One of the cenotes was a bit "complicado"
to return from - the highway was very narrow and there was no shoulder
to walk on, so we waited on the side of the road in hopes that a public
bus would be able to slow down a bit for us to hop on. We waited barely
five minutes as a construction-type truck stopped, and a gentleman
driver honked at us and invited us to hop in. We found out that this
gentleman was originally from Lebanon, and while driving us back to our
town, he shared a story with us about his previous life in Lebanon,
about his family and other personal details. And when the time came for
us to get off his truck, he categorically refused to accept any payment
whatsoever for a ride. How could such wonderful genuine personal
interactions can even compare with artificial hype of any tour packages,
or running around sites packed with loud tourists?!
For us, Chichén Itzá was about its people and their kind hearts, and to me - THIS is the REAL wonder of the world...
(note - thank you to my travel compatriots for sharing their cenotes photographs!)
Valladolid
Founded
by the Spanish in 1545, Valladolid is a very picturesque city.
However, walking along its pretty lanes and cobble streets, it is very
difficult to ignore the gruesome, bloody history that is hiding just a
layer behind the pretty colours of the classical buildings. Valladolid
was established to demonstrate the Spanish dominance over the Mayan
population. The indigenous people went through a hell of colonization,
inquisition, tortures, slavery and pain. It took almost four centuries
for the city to re-gain its full Independence back. Even now, as I was
walking along narrow classical lanes, occasionally I could see pieces of
old stones occasionally sticking out of the walls - those stones were
likely the remains belonging to the original Mayan settlements. Valladolid received the status of a "magical city" - the title is usually
given to cities that "offer visitors special experiences because of
their natural beauty, cultural richness and traditions". For me this
magical status has a different connotation. I think the true magic
about the city is its resilience and defiance, and most importantly -
the gentle, soft spoken nature of its residents and Mayan descendants
who, despite all odds, were able to preserve their true sense of
pride
and forgive the rest. There must have been dozens of times by now that
I would have a chat while stopping on a street, or at a local market,
or just sitting in a park enjoying some local dessert that people would
proudly share with me their Mayan background - they all seemed very
gentle-hearted and welcoming.
Valladolid - continues...
A
family-run hotel in the center of Valladolid where we stayed was no
exception. We had a simple,
but very comfortable room decorated in Mayan drawings and surrounded by a
garden with old exotic trees and plants lining up a narrow
walkway. The buildings were painted in bright colors and we had access not just to one, but two kitchens well supplied with anything you may
need. There were several stations of various coffees and teas,
chocolate cream, peanut butter, dolce de leche, honey, toast, fresh
fruits, etc. The hospitality was incredible - the hotel owners
instructed us to enjoy the treats any time we felt like having a snack,
24 hours a
day. And, I can tell you dolce de leche (being my weakness) on a fresh
toast, along with fruits and 3-in-1 espresso sure came in super handy
when we had to leave right after sunrise to catch a local colectivo to
reach cenotes.
We absolutely boycotted any boutique'ish restaurants or
Western-catered eateries, and instead formed relationships with local
eateries and food sellers. We had our own providers of papayas and
pineapples at a local market (and by the way, someone who loves local
fruits and has travelled a lot - I have to honestly say that the
pineapples we kept buying from a local market seller in Valladolid were
definitely the tastiest I have tried anywhere, the second closest would
be those in Bangkok, Thailand). We also had two local ladies that would
sell very tasty homemade tamales from their little baskets. Then, there
was a cart-on-wheels selling super tasty tacos right on the street near our place. And, on a
number of occasions, we deviated from Mexican food
- we formed a "gourmet relationship" with a Chinese family that had a
tiny stall in a food court, and cooked up really tasty and cheap Chinese
food.
There were so many
choices to enjoy the local way... Every time we would pass a
tourist-catered establishment I felt sorry for the Westerners - they had
no idea that
right under their nose there was so much more to be discovered, and they
chose to be completely oblivious to it, or too afraid to try something
different.
Xcan Che Cenote
There
was also one more place I wanted to explore outside the Valladolid
walls - the Xcan Che cenote located on the Mayan land near the Ek Balam
Ruins.
Valladolid is surrounded by dozens of
various cenotes. However, I'm very picky with sites that are known to
tourists. If possible, I usually try to select those that are more
isolated which would allow us to discover and appreciate a more
unspoiled nature and uniqueness of a place.
We
left for Xcan Che right at sunrise. We were the first ones to arrive in Ek
Balam, and headed straight to the path leading to the cenote. We were
given two rickety bikes to save us time walking along a crumbling rocky
path. The bicycles were making a lot of rambling noise which apparently
woke up and startled two dogs living on a local Mayan farm. They begin
chasing after Rob who was riding his bike faster and ahead of me. Both
dogs were going aggressively insane on each side of the bike - Rob kicking his legs left
and right trying to get rid of the dogs. In the matter of seconds I
lost sight of Rob and dogs, feeling horrified and wondering if NOW would become the start
of rabies injections... A few minutes later, in the distance, I saw both dogs returning back in my direction. I decided
to jump off the bike and walk slowly trying to make as little rumbling
noise as possible. It worked - the dogs had no interest in me or my
bike! We both got lucky - Rob was never bit and I never had any close contact
with those dogs at all.
Having had an
unexpected adventure with those stray dogs, we finally reached the
cenote. We were the very first people to enter its picturesque waters
and had the entire cenote just to ourselves for a very long time. We
were surrounded by the ancient walls and the sky above us, and long-long
roots of the trees hanging down from the edge of the cenote down to the
water. A waterfall was adding another exotic touch. It was peaceful
and calm. We spend several hours in the water - swimming, snorkeling,
floating, looking under and above us. It wasn't only the nature, it was
also a piece of history that we were encountering. After all, the sacred deep cenotes
are believed to have been used by the Mayans for their rituals and
ceremonies - there may have been a lot of that history we were floating
above...
Afterwards,
we took a long walk around the top of the cenote that from above looked like a
volcano crater filled with water. There were also a few
hammocks gently swinging in the breeze under the roof of Mayan palapas,
and we rested in them for a while. A few large iguanas were making
their rounds - a reminder of this exotic place. We took the same path
back, this time there were no crazy dogs, and the bike ride back was
peaceful. We returned our bikes back to the Mayan gentleman, and took a local colectivo back to Valladolid. Overall, Xcan Che was a bit of an adventure and a
good experience to remember.
(thank you to my travel compatriots for sharing their cenotes photographs)
Bacalar - town
Located in the southern
Quintana Roo, Bacalar is a sleepy and unassuming town positioned along
the shore of a stunning vast lagoon extending all
the way to the Belizean border. The local community is quite laid-back
and so far has not been ruined by tourism - though the change may be
coming in the near future...
I
selected a place to stay within a walking distance to the lagoon,
allowing us to enjoy both sunrises and sunsets from floating docks. We
had a small, but comfortable bungalow in el Centro built in the
back garden belonging to several local families. It was peaceful and
authentic, we had no tourists in our location, and every morning would
wake up to the sound of birds. We located several family-run eateries
and were enjoying local food and take-outs. One of these places was
called Pollos Chingones (which roughly can be translated into English as 'Fu**ing Chickens'), and we can say that the place really had a fu**ing
delicious way of preparing the food - fresh, hot, flavourful, in large
portions, with lots of side dishes and at budget prices. At another
local place with an opposite (and this time innocent) name of La Bendicion de Dios (meaning in English 'God's Blessing'), we enjoyed our lunches of panuchos, sopes, and (my fave) quesadillas served straight from the pan - fresh and hot with cheese melting inside that begged to be consumed along with a cold glass of horchata.
How could you go wrong with places like this? Every time we would pass
a restaurant packed with Western tourists consuming mediocre (and
over-priced) dishes,
I laughed
- how oblivious, rigid and afraid can they be not to make a slight
effort and try anything authentic?
Another
special thing about Bacalar settlement was an incredible amount of
beautiful wall murals. For such a small settlement, the creativity was
striking. Even tiny little haciendas
had some artistic expressions on their colouful walls. There was also
an old fortress right in the center with many resident iguanas, and one
of the locations from where to enjoy the sunrise over the lagoon. And,
at night, the central plaza would be all lit up with locals enjoying their night out.
Towards
the end of our stay, Rob and I also discovered a very peaceful part of
the lagoon with an elevated and super long board walk over the clearest
water. There were several steep ladders descending to the water with an
access for a very relaxing swim; and further down, the boardwalk took
us over the mangroves where, around sunset time, we were fortunate to
locate and watch for a while a large crocodile.
There were many other possibilities to explore the lagoon itself. The details of this exploration along with my impromptu adventure during the storm (which has become an unexpected highlight of this destination) follow below.
Laguna de Bacalar
(and my "lovely" storm adventure)
We spent eight days in Bacalar, and for such a short period of time had
our share of local adventures.
One of them was a trip (by public transport and a long hike) to the
south end of the lagoon, where we had a
chance to explore a very special phenomenon
- stromatolites. From what I understand, stromatolites are the oldest
fossils on Earth
dating back to more than 3 billion years ago. They were the dominant
life form on Earth for over 2 billion years and are thought to be
primarily responsible for the oxygenation of the atmosphere. What is
really cool is that some of those extremely rare specimens
referred to as "living
stromatolites"
can still be found in a few places on Earth, and of them happens to be
right here - Lagoon de Bacalar. We were fortunate to have an
opportunity to spend a
day exploring them (both above and underwater). What is not so
fortunate is
that for years those rare remaining living organisms have been abused
by people and their invasive practices causing these rare stromatolites
to almost completely be extinct.
Exploring the lagoon 'of seven colous' further and wider
was definitely on my list. There were so many beautiful and exotic
parts of the lagoon, including pirates' channel, deep cenotes with
mysterious names, small islands, harbours, etc. I decided to rent a
kayak and
explore the vast lagoon area on my own. I spent almost 7 hours
kayaking
with about 17 kilometers covered in total, and even had an unintentional
"pleasure" to be bombarded by FOUR consecutive storms that developed
all of a sudden. Perfectly clear blue sky and beautiful placid lagoon
transformed into dark clouds, strong winds, ferocious waves, almost zero
visibility, a lot of rain...
At some point, I began asking myself "when will the
tiger show up?" - referring to the Life of Pi book, of course.
Sometimes, the wind was so strong that I could not physically turn
my kayak in the direction I needed to go. And, that was how I ended up
sailing around massive fields of
stromatolites, which were off limits to the general public under normal
circumstances. I saw so many of them, and they were so beautiful - and I
was the only person there... I just wish the circumstances were a bit
more relaxing.
By the
way, during this storm I came across several tourist boats
on their way to the shore. NONE of the Western tourists inquired if I
was OK
or if I needed help. While I was trying to stay afloat in my rickety
kayak being pounded by the waves and wind, the Westerners were staring
at me from their boats - silently, with mouths half-opened,
self-absorbed, with ignorant facial expressions; they seemed more
preoccupied with their hats and dresses getting wet from the pouring
rain.
See why I don't
like Western tourists?
Did their attitude really surprise me? Just a little... I know that
Westerners couldn't care less about the local people or about the
negative impact on the local environment. I naively thought, under the
circumstances, they might feel at least some comradery with
another Westerner - me, but obviously, I was wrong. They seemed to have
turned even more into creepier and more zombie-like types. Oh, well...
At some point I accepted that kayaking may turn
into swimming if the repetitive storms would not lighten up... Luckily,
my kayak was a sturdy old piece of
sh.t, and that was EXACTLY what I needed. It was like a rickety "tank"
that kept on going regardless of being flooded from the inside and bombarded
by waves from the outside from all directions. Prior
experience handling stressful situations helped, plus
having travelled in Indonesia for a while sure left some memories of how
the locals would handle similar waves while in their tiny rickety
boats... Long story short - at the end, everything went
fine, I got back to my original launching point safely, and, of course,
some memorable
stories to share. Local people told me later on that this season had
been absolutely crazy in terms of unstable and unpredictable weather.
It is probably the new normal, I thought...
(the photographs of the lagoon below were taken before the storm, could not hold on to my camera device during the actual storm)
Playa del Carmen
Many
people associate Playa del Carmen with the ocean, beaches, expats, sex,
drugs, and misbehaving. It is a sort of Las Vegas of the Mayan Riviera.
But, I thought there had to be more to the city's soul, plus I've
always liked challenges in figuring out something REAL and beautiful
among the layers lost in stereotypes. As it turned out, I was right.
The REAL city was there, you just had to be real yourself.
For
starters, I had us stay in a place that was not a resort or hotel
catering to typical tourists, it was a self-sufficient lodging with an
independent traveller in mind. We were located in the real heart of the
city, even though it was close enough to the ocean strip. All we had to
do was just walk a few blocks away from the beach, and we found
ourselves
in a real neighborhood with local people living and enjoying their
daily life and activities.
We
never attended any flashy or boutique restaurants catered to Western
tourists (i.e. serving horribly overpriced and tasteless food).
Instead, every night we would join locals sitting in plastic chairs on
the street set up around a mobile taco stand dishing out tasty,
cheap tacos that we would dress up to our liking from multiple trays of
fresh ingredients and top up with freshly squeezed limes and four kinds
of salsas. And, we would keep ordering more until we got our feel - the
total bill for both of us never exceeded $5. We got to know the owner
as well who was there every night - he has been dishing out those tasty
tacos in that very spot for 30 years. A solid confirmation of local
popularity and quality.
Instead
of subjecting ourselves to obnoxious loud music venues frequented by
Westerners, we would join the locals in parks and squares dancing to the
live music played by various bands. On one such occasion I got invited
by a musician from the Dominican Republic to join him for a salsa dance,
which was fun.
However,
it was entertaining enough as well to stroll along the La Quinta Avenida
(pedestrian lane stretching out for several kilometers),
or as I called it "the central freak show" lane. Hawkers, hookers,
beggars,
sellers, lady-boys, girly bars, Westerners, locals, blaring music, free
alcohol samples, gaudy lights, etc. - it was entertaining to observe
this side of Playa as well - in small amounts, of course.
And,
as far as beaches go... The tourist-catered locations were insane (in a
bad way). We could never comprehend how one could enjoy "the beach"
laying completely sun burned among hundreds of bodies packed in close
proximity under blaring sounds of bad music and listening to screaming
kids or their obnoxious spoiled parents? Why would you ever leave home,
pay and subject yourself to tolerate such nonsense and pretend you like
it? None of it makes sense! I prefer to do my research and find
locations to enjoy exclusively for the nature, ocean, wildlife and
personal connection. Admittedly, those spots are hard to find and it
takes effort to reach, but believe me - it is worth it! Playa del
Carmen was no exception. There are most definitely such spots still remaining there,
and for that reason they are even called Wild Beach and Playa del Amor.
Sure, it took us many kilometers to walk there, but the memories and
stories will last for many years to come.
Cenote Azul
If there was a postcard for the Paradise, cenote
Azul would be one of the contenders. It is a truly beautiful and tranquil
place with crystal clear waters and submerged gold-tinted flat rocks,
surrounded by arching trees and intensely blue skies. That is only IF this magical location
remains free of people - just nature itself. The trick to avoid
people is to arrive early and have the entire place to yourself, which
is what we did. Just an hour later, various tour groups began
ascending, and the paradise was gone. Luckily, the area was vast and
consisted of five various cenotes. So, Rob and I were able to
find other peaceful spots to hide from tourists and their annoying
pointless discussions, and enjoy the nature at its best.
I
was able to swim with a turtle, and we also spent hours being eaten by
the numerous resident fish - literally. Well, specifically - the skin
surface of our feet, toes and lower parts of legs became a "cleaning
station" for the fish. If we were staying still, in the water, the fish would start gently nibbling on
the skin's dead cells - and they liked those snacks a lot. At times,
there were a couple of dozens of them enjoying little nips around our
toes or heels. The sensation was very tickling and overall very
relaxing. We have had a similar experience in another cenote
years ago around the Tulum area, so we were familiar with what to expect.
The sad part is that that kind of fish is frequently enslaved by being
placed in small tanks in tourist districts, and promoted as a "foot
massage". Every time I see that practice in a commercial setting, I feel
disgusted. It is only genuinely fun when it is on nature's terms,
and fish would come and go as they please, which was the case at cenote Azul. Other inhabitants around the cenote's
vast area were iguanas, and we spotted a bunch of them while taking a
hike around the area. We were able to locate a couple of other secluded
spots and enjoyed the peace as long as we could...
We returned back to Playa del Carmen the same way we came in - by a local inexpensive colectivo. It was almost sunset time. We stood along the highway, and within minutes a public colectivo picked us up to take us back to the city - no need for taxi, or vehicle hire, or tour. As almost always, we were the only "gringos"
among the local people - yet again, it never ceases to amaze me how
much tourists are missing out by not experiencing the country the local
way.
Cancun
Mention to somebody about Cancun, and all the stereotypical images start
appearing - packed beaches, resorts, tourists, taxis, spas, bars -
basically the most boring staff we so much try to avoid, and
successfully I must add. Cancun is so much more than that - if only one
tries to discover it. It is actually a really large normal city with
its own neighborhoods and culture where local people are living their
lives, doing their daily activities, having fun and couldn't care less
about the Western tourists and their often shallow (and frequently
ignorant) views that they bring with them.
We
had a comfortable place near the city center, a walking distance to
pretty much anything a person would need - a multitude of local
eateries, supermarkets, bus station, local transport, parks and squares
where local music and impromptu dancing would take place every night.
Our stay also coincided with the Carnival that lasted for five straight
days and nights. It was not a large-scale Carnival, and it was catered
more towards the local residents and families (no alcohol allowed), but
it certainly had a colorful touch. For my taste it was a little too
much "Rancherito" music, and I would have preferred more of a "Gasolina"
myself, but what can you do... The music and festivities would
continue all the way to 3 a.m., and at one point, not being able to
sleep, I decided it was better to go to the roof of our building and
dance (instead of being annoyed), but the rest of the time we had a
peaceful and enjoyable time. Tons of tasty local food, great bakery
items, excellent and cheap Chilean wine and local fruits - what could be
better for a good visit?
We also avoided beaches attached to resorts, and instead enjoyed several local
ones - peaceful, with beautiful calm waters and easy to get to by public
transport. We did some long walks as well, and even discovered a
crocodile on one of our nature hikes around the
Nichupte
lagoon.
Cancun
also has a large amount of creative artistic murals! You could spend
an entire day walking around neighborhoods and taking photographs of
beautifully orchestrated art creations along the buildings. And the
colours, variety and themes were absolutely fantastic! Nothing like
that around the tourists' hotel zone (which is pretty sterile in
comparison), and that is yet another perk of staying in the real Cancun
surrounded by local neighborhoods.
Merida (again)
We
have returned back to Merida - to continue our journey further West
towards Campeche, and also up North - towards the coast, along the Gulf
of Mexico. This time in Merida we would spend only a few days.
Merida's whimsical festival of music and culture had completed a few
weeks prior, and so did the "funsies" of the Carnaval... And, a
sense of reality made its way back to the city's dusty streets... The
temperature was soaring, pollution increasing, and the locals were
getting more irritable. We did not follow too far behind - this time
around, I also began feeling a sense of irritability. In my case, the real side
of Merida (mostly pollution and traffic) was starting to get to me...
What also did not help was our new accommodation - we stayed at the same
family-run place (which still remained super friendly and hospitable),
but our cute little bungalow in the back garden was not available, and
we had a more modern room with a balcony on the top floor of the hacienda.
There was nothing wrong with our room except for the intolerable stink -
the sewer gases were pouring from the bathroom drain non-stop, and no
plug or opened windows could fix the issue. When I would open our door
to the balcony to get some fresh air - a shot of pollution from the
traffic would burst in. We are used to this kind of thing from
extensive travels over the world, but sewer gas and pollution smog is
something hard to grow fond of... So, to minimize the factor of
irritability, I took it upon myself to discover new neighbourhoods in
Merida and other towns in the region.
That way, the excitement of new
adventures
would justify the
uncomfortable practical situation and make it more worthwhile putting up
with.
The plan worked, and we enjoyed a few new discoveries, one of which was a "yellow city of Izamal". The story follows below...
Izamal - the Yellow City
Having travelled in a "blue city" and
a "white city" in Morocco, it was time to expand the colour range...
Izamal, also known as a "yellow city", certainly got my attention as the
next contender.
We took a local colectivo
from Merida to reach Izamal. The ride was long, I had a front seat
with a polite Mexican gentleman next to me. Rob's seat was towards the
end of the van. At some point, I remember the driver passing to me a
huge amount of bills all tied up by a rubber band... Now, I am used to
the fact that drivers normally ask (and sometimes extort) money from
passengers, so you could understand my surprise when the driver
insisted I hold on to the large sum of "cash'iola". I made a joke "Regalito? Cumpleanos?"
("Little gift? Birthday?"). He laughed and began slowing his car
down... There was an official-looking guy in a uniform standing at a
random intersection along a highway - is the driver actually using me to bribe the guy up??? We are in Mexico - remember???
Sure, an innocent looking girl like myself, with a thick fold of money -
who would refuse such a chance? Within seconds, we pulled over, and
the driver motioned me to use the opened window and pass all the cash to
the guy in the uniform. I waved back and forth my arm, as if uncertain
whether to give or not to give the money - the guy in the uniform
laughed and grabbed the stash from me. And, he was the good guy -
apparently, ever so often, the drivers pass all the cash to an
appointed transport collector who would meet them along various
highways. Maybe not to risk losing all the money collected from
passengers over a long day, or maybe for some other logical reason.
In either case, a bit of a local experience.
Now,
back to the YELLOW part - the city that is. Izamal was truly yellow
and very pretty! Colonial arches, cobblestone alleys, classical
buildings, dressed up squares, historical monastery and cathedrals, and
even a series of Mayan ruins perched up on a hill overlooking the entire
city! I remember climbing up a long set of challenging stone steps
leading from one level to even a higher one. The ancient Mayan rocks
were crumbling and slippery, they were also very-very hot from the
sun... I had to take my shoes off and climb the steps barefooted - that
way I felt I could be more stable on my feet. The view from the top
was stellar! And, it felt peaceful and even mysterious. While sitting
at the edge of the former Mayan remarkable site elevated so high up, I
had so many images and associations from our prior travels going through
my mind... Tikal, Angkor, Isla del Sol, Nusa Penida, La Paz, Santiago,
Seoul... You couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude - to be
privileged to explore places like that while they still exist... It
felt so good to be traveling again!
Progreso
The
town of Progreso is located on the Gulf Of Mexico, in the region known
for the notorious K-T Event that happened sixty-five million years ago
caused by the impact of a massive asteroid. About 70% of all species
then living on Earth
disappeared within a very short period - the event that ended the age of
dinosaurs.
Progreso
town itself was one of my most favourite stops on this trip. It was a
mellow easy-going place with a long coastline, gorgeous sunsets,
plethora of wild pelicans and nearly empty beaches - the further west
one would walk. It also has the
world's longest pier extending 6.5 kilometers out into the ocean. That pier also informally divided Progreso into two parts -
the West side where the
beach tended to be more isolated and more pristine, while the East side
had more beach umbrellas (meaning "tourists'').
We
had a lovely place in the West part of town. It was a short walking
distance to the ocean, sunrises and sunsets, abandoned fishing boats,
pelicans, coastal walk and the quiet residential life. There were a few
Western tourists in our hotel, but they all were "long-termers", more
of an expat community. The place was quiet and peaceful, with colourful
Mexican decorations, refreshing pool and breezy terrace with hammocks
and chairs. We also were just a few blocks away from el centro,
grocery store and our favourite - a super-tasty Chinese restaurant. We
normally go "rogue" and eat only local authentic dishes, but there was
something about that Chinese place that locals loved and were queuing up
for their food every day (and night), so we gave it a try. And, OMG -
that place became my absolutely favourite! The food was GREAT, cheap,
fresh, in large portions and we simply could not resist it. We would do
our daily take-outs which we would enjoy on our terrace along with a
glass of horchata or tamarindo. There was only one
repercussion of that restaurant - I am YET to find any other Chinese
place even remotely close to the quality and flavour of their food -
yes, NOTHING compares...nothing COMPARES ...to Them!
When, towards the end of our trip,
we
returned back to Merida (from where we would fly back home), we
continued making daily trips to Progreso. There was something peaceful
and almost healing about that place - the simplicity and easy going
nature along with a coastal beauty, and sunsets, and swims in the ocean
(and of course, THE Chinese food). I wouldn't be surprised if one day
we would return there again...
Campeche
Campeche
is a kind of place where police officers are happy to invite you inside their vehicles
and pose
for impromptu photos, and local residents greet you spontaneously while
taking morning walks along the city's narrow lanes. Yes, Campeche is a
very mellow place with genuine character and a sleepy version of
Valladolid. It does have a pretty classical architecture, but in a
dilapidated sort of a way. Colourful crumbling buildings do have their
charm, and so does the local population.
We
stayed just outside the old walled city, near a busy local market.
Every morning I would go to the market and pick fresh ripe fruits -
mangoes, papayas, pineapples, mameys. Our room was simple, but so
cozy! There was something special about that place. We were surrounded
by real local residents going around their daily activities, and we
could watch a beautiful sunset above the roofs with a silhouette of a tree
growing straight from the top of one of the houses. In the mornings we
also observed on a number of occasions humming birds soaring right
above the rooftops. Every night we would walk via long lanes and
colourful houses to the ocean to enjoy gorgeous sunsets and pelicans,
and it really felt good traveling again. The sun and temperature were
ruthless during the afternoon though, so covering up was essential (I
must admit I forgo this rule often). Rob has noticed a creative application by
local workers of cardboard - they used it as an extension of their hats
to provide a larger shaded area, so Rob adopted their technology and went
rogue in that line of fashion.
Campeche
also had a strategic location for public transport to an off-the-beaten
track Edzna, a former Mayan empire. Having explored a vast majority of
ruins, we are very particular about what we visit, and Edzna really attracted
my attention. About Edzna is next...
Edzna
Modern Mayans are gentle and soft spoken, but it does
not mean they forgot their history and identity. The spirit of warriors
was evident in the magnificent acropolis of Edzna. Once upon a time,
back to the 400 A.D. it was one of the most powerful empires in the
Yucatan. The spirit was as grand as the architecture. Edzna still
remains an off-the-beaten track place and thus does not have any tourist
crowds typical of over-rated Chichen Itza. You could still be
privileged to stand on one of the Mayan pyramids as if the ruler
yourself and listen to the silence. Iguanas climbing up the ancient
rocks certainly add their touch of exoticism, and excruciating heat and
sun reflecting off the intimidating walls reminds you of the endurance
of the past inhabitants.
Due
to a more isolated location, it is yet to be "over-flooded" by
tourists. And, getting there was also a part of a local cultural
experience which many Westerners seem to be so afraid of... That
(almost) always serves a big plus - meaning the authenticity manages to
preserve, and so does that exotic feeling. After all, the adventure is
the pursuit of the exoticism, isn't it?
FINALE - my thoughts
For many years I have been wondering
what is it about travel that makes me feel so much better and so much
more alive? I struggled to find the answer that really felt right until
now. It wasn't just one answer, it was a multitude of dimensions that
created that feeling of well-being. While taking a long walk at sunrise
in Campeche Mexico, I think I may have finally figured it out...
When
you travel you can be anyone you want - an adventurer, discoverer,
ocean explorer, diver, naturalist, ambassador, foodie, or simply
disappear without any titles, expectations, or associations attached.
You could spend your days in silence, or chat your hours away with
complete strangers on the street. You could be watching sunsets or
dancing on the streets under the night sky. One day you could be
invited to a wedding by people you have never met, and the next day you
could find yourself on a set of a movie production. You could be judged
or revered, and somehow it just does not matter. Travel also allows
you to be as lonely as desired or try and find connections in unfamiliar
places. It is also possible that for somebody like me who does not
have anyone close left from the family of origin, it feels good to
belong to the entire world and no one at the same time. Travels blur
the borders and limits, it pauses you at the very moment when you feel
things and living every minute of it. Travel allows you to live out a
fantasy either for that very moment or as long as it feels right. It is
almost like a time capsule and only I decide when it starts and stops.
It is possible that it is the closest to the internal freedom that one
can come to.
I'm not sure if those are the right answers, but I'm willing to continue this journey to find out...
