Mexico, Part 7: Isla Mujeres

On the day of our final opportunity to make the snorkel trip to Cozumel, the bus from Scuba Cancun showed up early at the hotel. Of course, anyone who knows me and Claire would know that we were already waiting when the driver pulled up. Unfortunately, the skies were cloudy and the wind was aggressive...so the driver suggested that we wait until the honcho scuba goobers had issued an official proclamation regarding the day's activities. Well, it wasn't long before he got the call announcing that they were cancelling our excursion. Bummer. There would be no exotic snorkeling adventures today.

So what were we to do? Well, let's see--we're staying in a spectacular resort hotel strategically placed next to a long and gorgeous beach...and it was warm enough that a little rain wouldn't cause undue discomfort. How about a nice little walk along the shoreline? Splendid!



We probably walked a mile or so to the south of the hotel (the opposite direction from that shown in the photo above.) Once beyond the hotel property, the shoreline remained pretty rocky until we reached some small private beaches. Some of the properties appeared to be residential, and some were apparently lobster farms and associated restaurants -- though the dilapidated state of the buildings suggested that they were out of business. Or at least not prosperous. The Villa del Palmar is isolated from the standard resort hotel zone, so I'm guessing that adjacent businesses didn't get a lot of tourist traffic.

Claire was game to keep walking clear into town, but eventually I talked her into turning around before we were kidnapped by drug cartels or eaten by giant mutated crustaceans. (I was later informed that my cinema-based assumptions about radioactive ocean monsters were probably unfounded. Hmm.)

When we returned, the hotel area remained largely unpopulated. We could see the Isla Mujeres ferry pulling into the Punta Sam ferry dock, which was just north of the hotel. So we walked over there as well.



As we enjoyed the beauty of the semi-stormy weather, we discussed the idea of taking the ferry over to the small island that was visible some 5 kilometers away. Maybe tomorrow.



We spent the remainder of the day in the hot tub, swimming pool, restaurant, and then back in the hot tub. We also rented "Fantastic Four" on the room's giant TV while the rain came down. (Verdict on the movie: meh.) Despite the disappointment in missing the snorkel excursion, I'd still rate the day as a complete delight.

The following morning (our last full day in Mexico) was beautiful, so we packed our goggles, snorkels, and fins for a boat ride over to the island. The ferry was not expensive, but did feature the ubiquitous vendors selling carvings, shells, and sombreros.



It was hard to tell for sure, but the coloring in the water (along with the channel marker buoys the ferry followed) suggested that parts of the sea were not very deep at all. But the blue was incredible, and the view of the resort in the background was worth the cost of the trip all by itself. We spent most of the ride on the boat deck, soaking in the splendor of the sea.



Isla Mujers (literally "Women Island") is a narrow strip of land that's about four miles long. In addition to the opportunity to buy carvings, fish, and timeshares, there were a few million vendors renting golf carts and scooters for local transport. We declined, figuring that we could easily walk from the ferry port down to the main beach, and that would be enough. As I had observed in Coba, the standards we expect to be enforced in the US are not necessarily respected in Mexico: I saw a woman driving a scooter with 3 children (on her back and in her lap) while holding a cup of coffee in one hand. I hope that was really good coffee.

It took us about 20 minutes to walk down past the military naval base to the beach on the north end of the island. At that point, we could still see the ferries coming and going.



We took turns swimming in the crystal clear water, using our snorkels to looks at...well, at the sand underneath the water. I did see one tiny fish during my time with my face in the water, but otherwise it was just sand. Pretty sand, to be sure, but nothing else. The water was noticeably lacking that fresh chlorine scent I expect from my swimming venues, and the waves caused the depth to vary significantly even if I wasn't moving.



Did I mention that I'm not really a "beach" kind of a guy? I wonder how many people who grew up in Kansas do think the salty ocean is the place to be. Probably the same number that think seafood tastes better than a slab of sizzling beef, I'm guessing.

Anyway, after swimming for a while, we trekked down to the north tip of the island and started back up the east shore, which was completely different. Rather than the shining sands and gentle surf, that side of the island featured crashing waves smacking up against volcanic rock. It was starkly beautiful in its own way...but nobody was swimming over there. I noticed that the view back to the south looked exactly like one of the cheap paintings you find in Best Western motels, so I took a picture and applied the oil paint filter. I'm rather proud of the way it turned out. (Click to embiggen for full effect.)



We explored our way back along that side of the island and continued south past the ferry port, keeping a close eye on the time we needed to be back at the boat. We had neither the time nor the energy to make it all the way to the other end of the island, even though we had been told there were beautiful artifacts and snorkeling ponds down there. Some other time, perhaps. Regardless, we had accomplished a pretty fair day of walking -- and by the time the boat arrived we were ready to head back to the hotel.

The ferry boat for this crossing turned out to be the major transport of the day. Instead of the returning on the passenger- and automobile-carrying boat we had taken on the morning trip, we ended up watching them load the lower deck with semi trucks and heavy equipment (including a giant crane that stuck out over the tail end of the vessel.) While the blue water was every bit as gorgeous as it had been on our trip to the island, the overall aesthetic was somewhat diminished by the presence of a roof-less garbage trailer that stunk up the entire boat.



It makes sense. You'd have to get the trash off the island somehow. Isla Mujeres isn't a big enough chunk of dirt to have its own landfill, and I can't imagine that anyone would suggest dumping refuse into the sparkling waters of the resort neighborhood. I just hadn't anticipated that my particular journey as a ferry-boat passenger would coincide with the daily stench-barge schedule.

And that pretty much concludes the adventure. We returned to the hotel for another lovely dinner and our last restful night before returning home. I took a few more pictures: If you click on this, you can see Claire standing next to the hammock on our room's balcony. It truly was a lovely place.



The next morning, we boarded one more shuttle van to head back to the airport. We waved goodbye as we went through the security gate for the final time.



Well, OK, we didn't really wave goodbye. And I think we were actually pretty satisfied with the trip, and had few regrets upon our departure. I had looked at the weather report for Denver before we left and was a little distressed that the forecast was for a frigid 9°...and Claire let me stew about that for a while before she pointed out that the forecast had been in Celsius. Duh. We'd actually be plenty comfortable in our light jackets upon our arrival at DIA. Rookie mistake for a first-time international traveler, I guess.

So, that's my report. Thanks for sticking with me through the extra-long travelogue. In the coming weeks, we shall resume our inane coverage of TV, movies, training, politics, and all the other nonsense you usually expect to come spewing from my demented mind. I'm looking forward to it, and I hope you'll join me for the fun.

Have a great day!

Mexico, Part 6: Coba

Never fear, my friends...the string of blogs about fish and rocks and palm trees is nearing its end. Thanks for sticking with me through these reports; I have a few more photos to share that I hope you'll find interesting. Today's installment covers our visit to Coba, perhaps the most enjoyable of the Mayan cities we visited.

Pyramids, sports arenas, astronomical observatories, and what were probably the Mayan equivalent of office parks were spread throughout the jungle. Some structures had been restored, while others remained partially (or completely) covered by the encroaching vegetation.

Thatched roofs are common throughout the Yucatan. I have no idea if the original residents of Coba used leaves instead of shingles, but there are currently thatched roofs protecting certain artifacts within the park. Large carved monoliths still contain faded pictographs that give clues about the culture and history of the area. According to our tour guides, the stories support the legends about decapitory sports competitions and the admiration of feathered snakes and jaguars.

Documenting your culture in stone does seem like a dandy way to avoid losses from fire, mold, and Y2K. But all I could think about when looking at these rocks was Also Sprach Zarathustra and bone-whomping chimpanzees. Hmm. I probably wouldn't be a very objective archaeologist.



Anyway, the sports arena certainly did resemble the one at Chichen Itza, though at a smaller scale. Apparently the Mayans didn't standardize their playing field dimensions, like we do with football. I guess their hip-kicking, rock-circle-target, chop-off-yer-head arenas have more in common with our baseball parks. There would definitely be a home-field advantage against visiting teams.



Because we had a strict bus schedule and a large area to cover, Claire and I chose to rent bicycles so we could cover more ground. The rental bikes were all horrid rust-bucket contraptions that probably hadn't been lubricated since Coba was originally inhabited. But we still had fun riding around and having access to more of the ruins.





Though everything about Coba was impressive and fascinating, the highlight of the tour was the giant pyramid that they let us climb! The stairs were narrow and steep, and they had a gym rope draped across the stairs to serve as a makeshift banister.

Did Claire and I make the climb? Of course we did; why would you even ask such a question? It kinda reminded me of running stadium steps while training for the KU swim team...but these stairs were tiny and asymmetrical. It wasn't that hard to make the ascent, but you'd have to be pretty careful on the trip back down.



The top of the pyramid was the highest point in the entire region, and we could see for miles. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything to see other than the tops of the jungle vegetation. Still, it was very cool to be up there. (By the way, the strap around my waist is a camera-securing harness. Makes travel with the camera a LOT easier.)



Looking down the steps from the top was a little scary. One ill-chosen foot placement and you would roll a LONG way over pointy stones. Caution seemed prudent, but unlike what you'd expect in the US, there were no warning signs, elevators, safety personnel, or any indication of official concern. And yes, there were a couple of hardy athletes who were running up and down.



Most folks did take advantage of the rope. And yes, it IS as steep as it looks. Unfortunately, if our guides told us what they think the pyramids were used for, I managed to forget what they said. I suspect they served some purpose beyond giving people a happily large piece of limestone playground equipment.



Once back on solid ground, we hopped on our rickety bikes and boogied back to the bus. As night descended, we slept on the bus until they stopped to pass us off to a hotel shuttle that took us back to Villa del Palmar. Our tour of Mayan culture had come to a pleasant end. The only other off-site adventure we had planned was the next day's excursion for snorkeling at Cozumel. Would the weather cooperate, or would the intrepid explorers be forced to conjure up interesting activities while confined to the hotel beaches? Tune in tomorrow to find out. Have a great day!

Mexico, Part 5: Tulum and Cenote

Tulum (pronounced "Two LOOM") was an important coastal trade hub for the Mayans, with roads leading to many of the other population centers within their civilization. Apparently the obsidian trade was big back then. And even now, you can find all sorts of obsidian charms and knives and funky head carvings at the local gift shops. But thankfully, the ubiquitous vendor/panhandler types were not allowed inside this particular walled park. I loved the design of the city entrances:



Once inside the city borders, we were treated to a very appealing location, with plenty of grass and plants mixed in among the impressive stone structures. Tulum definitely has a city vibe, as opposed to Chichen Itza's monument atmosphere.



After listening to the tour guides repeating each phrase in both languages on the bus, I started to remember more and more of my college Spanish -- so I decided to try taking the tour en español. I understood about 80% of tour content (including the part where the guide asked Claire about my lack of Spanish skills.) It was fun!

The weather was warm, but not unbearable. As iguanas roamed throughout the ruins, our tour guide told us about how commerce throughout the region centered in Tulum, and about how the carvings on the buildings gave clues to the culture as well as the purpose of the structures.



I tried to imagine how magnificent the city was in its heyday. The guide left us on our own to explore until we were due back at the bus. We admired the city layout and lovely palm trees, and marveled at the amount of work it took to construct everything -- especially in the heat. I wasn't sure whether it would be cooler indoors, or if grass and shade were the most coveted locations.



But then we found the beach. Mystery solved! The workers and traders could zip down to the shoreline and cool off in the gorgeous blue waters.



Because we had done some extra exploring up in the city, we didn't have time to hit the surf ourselves, but plenty of other folks were having a great time there.



We knew we were scheduled to swim in another cenote around lunchtime, so we were content to merely enjoy the scenery until it was time to go. We jumped back into the bus for a short ride off into the jungle. We stopped at a secluded spot that contained just a few buildings among the thick vegetation, as well as a picturesque limestone pit for swimming.

But before we could swim, we were treated to authentic Mayan tortillas (meh) and an authentic Mayan blessing ceremony in which a fellow chanted in monotone while brushing us with leaves that had been dipped in some sort of eye-of-newt type smoking potion. He personally anointed each of the tourists, which seemed to be unnecessary overkill...especially since none of us were in particular need of exorcism.

After the ceremony, we headed over to a small hut for lunch. Claire and I had been salivating over the thought of dining on authentic Mayan/Mexican cuisine to get a feel for the real culture of the area, but were once again disappointed. Instead of unique tacos or burrito-chalupa-relleno concoctions, we were treated to spaghetti, hot dogs, and Diet Coke. Are you kidding me?

The good news is that the cenote was perfect! With crystal clear water forming a natural moat around a small island, the setting was so idyllic that we couldn't wait to get in the water.





Each swimmer was required to wear a flotation belt, so we just floated around and watched the fish swim around below us.







What a wonderful, relaxing break! Refreshed and restored after the swim, we got dressed and wandered back to the bus, ready to head off to Coba. We'll cover that part of the tour in tomorrow's post. As always, thanks for dropping by, and have a great day!