Mexico
Sunday 08/01
Tulum
Tulum, Mayan City of the Dawn, is a beautiful, but very crumbly ruin on a cliff overlooking the sea - the water is the most gorgeous shade of turquoise, unlike anything any of us has seen in our collectively extensive travels. We wander about the ruins for an hour or so; it is scorching hot and there is virtually no shade. We listen in on bits of guided tours.
From the centre of the ruin, there is a small crowded beach . The sand is pristine white and soft as velvet under my feet. A cool breeze blows off the water. We wade in, holding our day packs above our heads, and go out around a rocky outcrop to get to another beach, which is only accessible by water or by climbing down the side of a rocky cliff. There are fewer people here and we find a nice overhang which provides us with ample shade.
We plunge into the surf; the water is soupy warm and crystal clear: you can see your feet perfectly when the water is up to your chin. It's also very salty, and we can float on the surface with ease (except for Marie and Kelly, who both sink inexplicably) It is so glorious that I could stay in all afternoon, but I know I'm getting too much sun.
I reluctantly drag myself out and stretch on my towel in the shade. The breeze is cool, the sky is clear, the cliff above dotted with greenery. Everyone is relaxed and dreamy. A big iguana comes down the rocks, edging closer and closer to us, across the sand, clearly hoping for a morsel of Chris's chocolate roll.
Like me, Kelly and Andrea have navel piercings, which spark a lively discussion of body piercing, other body art, then initiation rituals in African and Asian tribes....
Photo: C. Gardner
Walking back along the highway, a dilapidated van stops ahead of us - it has no head or tail lights, no windows, no paint, and looks like it might be held together with chewing gum. In the front are two of the scariest-looking guys I've ever seen: long, matted hair, scraggley beards, pock-marked faces, missing teeth...
Two 20-ish Brit girls jump out of the back and run over to us, yelling: "We're going with our friends!"
The driver shouts, "Give us money for the Monster Truck!" to which they reply that they have none.
After the van peals away, they thank us profusely and explain that these guys approached them in a bar and asked of they wanted a ride to their cabana in a monster truck. Once they got in the truck, they realized they'd made a mistake. They are traveling by themselves through Mexico for 10 weeks. They'll be lucky if they make it home intact, making decisions like that.
Back at the hotel, cold showers and a nap, then we head down the highway to Charlie's, a funky Mexican restaurant with a "bar en el jardin." We sit at a big table surrounded by lush greenery, flowers and twinkling lights. Tortilla chips in Mexico are fabulous, bearing no resemblance to what we get at home - fresh and crispy, they taste almost like popcorn. The salsa we dip them in is strong enough to clean drains. Yow!
It is an election day, and they are not allowed to serve us beer, so they pour it into water glasses instead of giving us the bottles (?)
I have sabana mole: chicken breast filets stuffed with zucchini and cheese, smothered in mole, a sauce made of savoury chocolate and spices - DIVINE! I think I'm in love!
Photo: S. Piercey
Onward to Belize...