Home Again

Yeah... Sorry to anybody that continued to check this blog every day in the hopes that I would report safely arriving home. I did in fact, but never made the time to write about it. However, most of you talk to me (at least occasionally) and know that I am alive and well. There isn't much left to tell actually. I spent two final days on La Isla Mujeres, the "Island of Women", which was a far cry better than Cancún. It had the Club-Med of hostels and beaches so beautiful I won´t even describe them. I went scuba-diving in crystal clear waters teaming with wildlife. I got a tan. Then it was off to the airport and back home. Let me just mention as a side note that the Cancún airport is the most expensive place in the world. If anyone feels some some sort of deprivation at having no more of my travles to read about, never fear, I´m already off on another adventure. Read all about my trip to South America at ericinsa.blospot.com - adiós!

Chichén Itzá/Cancún

Today I did two very different things: Went to Chichén Itzá and then to Cancún. The former are some Mayan ruins. The latter is, well, you all know what Cancún is, and what it is like. Great vacation destination but hardly epicenter of the backpacker scene. Actually Chichén Itzá was a little bit like Cancún. The entry fee is $10 dollars instead of the typical $5, even though it's not too big and you can't enter any of the ruins, which is exactly the opposite at every other site. Also, hordes of tourists are bussed in every day from Cancún. They even have a nightly "sound and light" show. So yeah, pretty touristy, but cool nonetheless. I was most impressed with the Kukulcán pyramid (shown in my pictures), which is actually the Mayan calendar in building form. The neat thing about it is that if you stand anywhere in the vicinity and clap, the building is so well designed and so aligned with the cosmos or something (they literally used it as a calendar, and on the equinoxes all sorts of neat things happen, like shadows in the shapes of snakes), the sound somehow echoes off the temple and makes a noise like a dolphin. Well, not really like a dolphin but that is what it made me think of any way; definitely doesn't sound like an echoed clap. I was really amazed, but the thing quickly lost its novelty when every tourist in the place started clapping, some of them performing whole song and dance routines in clap form on the spot. Perhaps it was good preparation for the real Cancún. Actually I only just arrived and am in the city section, where all the locals live, and have yet to check out the beaches and hotels. I leave tomorrow for the more laid-back Isla Mujeres, but really just being anywhere in the vicinity of Cancún has been enough of an experience for me.

A Hard Two Day's Night

It's been a rough couple of nights. From Palenque I took yet another night-bus, and knew it was going to be a long trip when I sat down and the woman next to me had a baby in her arms. No overhead light to read by, and only one of the earpieces in my headphones worked, and just barely at that (what do you expect though, I bought them here for $2.50, cheap even by Mexican standards!) - oh please let the movie be good, and in English (the last bus I was on showed the tweenie-bopper flick Ella Enchanted - a moving film about a girl cursed by a witch into obeying whatever is commanded of her, which of course she breaks by falling in love with a handsome prince, though much to the loathing of her stepsisters, and the prince's evil uncle - yes, this on a bus full of primarily adult men - who comes up with these choices? - but hey, it was in English, so of course I watched it). No such luck. But the woman next to me was very nice and amazingly the baby didn't cry once; in fact, on a night-bus full of babies, not a single one of them ever did - the Mexican people have a lot to teach us on the art of shutting up noisy babies. In the end I got quite a lot of sleep.
I arrived in Tulum, far away enough from Cancun to be peaceful, but close enough to get a steady influx of day-trippers. I figured I would save money by paying $5 bucks to sling my hammock between two palm trees and sleep on the beach. First though like a dope I tried to take an open hammock, figuring it belonged to the place, and got accosted by some beach bum... I mean a hippie, who politely explained that this hammock belonged to somebody else. Then I had to pay $5 more dollars for some rope to hang my hammock with, not knowing that there was rope laying all over the beach. Finally I got my hammock set up, and realized that not only was it very small (I bought the cheapest one available, for one person), but that I also had no blankets. The wind didn't stop blowing once, from sundown to sunrise, and even bundled in every article of clothing I had it was still a long night. I'll admit it, I really know nothing about hammocks apparently. The resident hippies were pretty cool and helpful though, ushering me into the ways of the hammock lifestyle. And the beach - oh, the beach! As far as the archetype of perfect beaches go (and I've seen many), this took the cake - solid-white sand and crystal-clear blue waters. I went to the nearby ruins of Tulum and got a lot of sun and swimming in. Nevertheless, the proposition of another night in that hammock didn't appeal to me, so I left paradise for the small town of Valladolid. Ever one for new experiences, I went swimming in a cenote, which is an underground lake of sorts. It was a bit eery, with bats swarming above and dark water beneath, but also amazing - tree roots and stalactites hung down over the water, and through the one gap in the cave's ceiling a shaft of sunlight flooded in, lighting the water in fluorescent shaders of blue. Best of all, I got a room in a hostel, so I'm sleeping well tonight (assuming none of my dorm-mates snore loudly).

Palenque

Today I went to the superb ruins of Palenque, right in the heart of the jungle. Here is the hot, humid weather I've been expecting. You think it would be nice after a cold mountain town like San Cristóbal, but no. It's not. So, trying to be smart, and not waking up early enough to tour the ruins before the sun hit its nasty, burning zenith, I went later on in the day. This still proved to be very grueling, especially since most of the ruins consisted of large, pyramid-like temples, often on top of hills. I've seen a lot of ruins by now, but they never fail to fascinate and delight me. Walking on the same stones worn smooth by thousands of years of human feet, seeing living remants of ancient culture in crumbling carvings, one feels a powerful, sometimes even unsettling, link connecting us all through the vast halls of time. Most of all though I feel in awe at a culture that could create such power and beauty, mighty enough to have lasted through the ages.

Time Flies... Like a Little Old Lady

It was sad to leave the beach, and even more sad was the fact that I faced a 12-hour bus ride to San Cristóbal de las Casas. Things got a lot better though when I met a lot of cool fellow travellers at the bus station. My seat for the night however was next to this peculiar old woman who kept vanishing and mysteriously reappearing. I didn't even notice she had left her place next to me and when I did it was at least a half an hour before she came back. Then she vanished again and after about an hour I thought she must of had some sort of emergency and confined herself to the onboard bathroom, but she wasn't there... Actually she had temporarily switched seats. However, we made a stop about an hour before San Cristóbal and she got off the bus, yet when I got to my destination, she showed up again from nowhere. A little odd at that point, but it got really strange the next day when I was walking through the lobby of my anonymous hostel and there she was again! I was wondering if I had a stalker at this point. I guess as far as stalkers go she'd be an ideal choice, because I can't imagine she could overpower me or anything, but it was a bit strange. Any way, the reason I'm devoting so much of this post to a little old lady is because I did very little during my two days in San Cristóbal. It's a great town high in the mountains and very cold, and I ate a lot of good food and did a lot of shopping. I hung out nearly the entire time with this really cool girl from Boston, Courtney, who despite her dreadlocks is really not a hippie. It was refreshing to have some company again, and despite doing very little (or perhaps because of it), time passed quickly. In fact, much the same could be said about this trip - sometimes I feel as if I just arrived, but I've been here a month already and am down to the final week! Well, I better go - I just noticed some little old lady entering the internet cafe...

Chocolate, Crickets, and Paradise

From Guanajato I had a long journey to get to where I am now. A few long journeys actually. I took a five-hour bus to Mexico City, where I had approximately forty minutes to cross the city to another bus station. Midway through the second of three Metro transfers, I faced a very long underground tunnel. Sweating profusely under my large pack (growing in weight daily), I got to the end, turned the corner, and almost screamed. Another hall, at least a quarter of a mile long. Why can't they just build the two stations next to one another? I'm no engineer, but wouldn't that be easier? Even after this tunnel there were a few more shorter ones, twisting and turning, and then about two-hundred steps, and, I kid you not, the escalator was broken. How I ever made it to my bus on time is beyond me.

After a half-sleepless night on the bus I arrive in Oaxaca, high in the mountains of southern Mexico. After finding a hostel and taking an immediate nap, I explored the city. It's a very artsy place. At night I listened to a free concert in the central square. There are two specialties produced here: Chocolate, and fried crickets. I loved the one and didn't try the other. Can you guess which one I didn't try? I ate dinner one night in the middle of a dirty indoor meat market, because they had a few tables set up and were grilling steaks. Something about the girl grilling the steaks struck me as funny, and so typical of Mexican girls. She was in her teens, and wearing clear plastic pumps, a full-length white lace-trimmed dress, large gold hoop earings, and covering all this glamorousness, a old dirty apron. And she's grilling steaks! Funny.

Something about all these cities was getting me down, so I decided to make the wisest choice possible, and head back to the beach. I took a bus halfway the first day, which winded through some incredible mountain scenery, and stayed in a crummy little town where I decided to splurge a bit on the room. It got me air conditioning, TV, and several cock-roaches. The next morning I took a pickup to Zipolite, finally arriving in paradise. There isn't much here beyond a few shops and bungalows and a perfect beach. It's rimmed by cliffs and the water is either a deep blue or crystal clear. The surf is rough but enjoyable. I'm staying in a resort up on the cliff on on end, called "Shambhala." It is one of the most creatively designed places I've ever seen, stretching up the cliffs in a series of walkways, steps, and rooms, decorated with Indian motifs and hand-crafted shells inlaid in the pavement in mystical patterns, and terminating high up on the summit of the hill in a meditation area. Yep, lots of hippies. My room is actually a hammock, which I paid $4 bucks for. It is on the edge of the cliff and overlooks the beach and ocean. I realized that it's not so fun sleeping a hammock though. But it was worth it when I went to bed under the stars and to the sound of crickets and crashing waves, and even more so when I woke up this morning to the sun rising over the water.

What Lies Beneath

I am in yet another colonial mining town, Guanajato. You know though, I never get tired of these places. Besides their obvious beauty and history and quaint charms, there is always something lurking below the surface. Something you just don't see every day! In Guanajato for instance, there literally is something lurking below the surface: Tunnels. Yes, that's right, tunnels. Lots and lots of tunnels. The town is built in such a narrow, steep ravine, that to allow the smooth flow of traffic, they just dug a bunch of tunnels under the city. They wind and stretch in serpentine coils through the hills, popping out every so often into the upper streets. Riding through the town in a cab is quite fun, because you'll be zooming along the nice ol' cobblestone roads, past cathedrals and what not, and suddenly your driver will take a sharp turn down a one-way road leading STRAIGHT UNDERGROUND. You crash down into gaping darkness and then you're tearing every which way through narrow, dimly lit tunnels, twisting and turning, and again suddenly you take a steep turn up a hidden incline and emerge back out next to some historic builing in another part of town. And so on. I didn't feel like paying for a taxi, or explaining that I just wanted to drive around through all the tunnels (stupid American tourist...), so I decided just to walk a few of them. It was fun, until I got lost. It's really hard to tell direction underground. I thought I'd be coming up by my hostel but instead I emerged clear on the other side of town! Guanajato also has other skeletons in the closet, or mummies in the closet I should say. Yes, it is the home of the infamous "Mummy Museum." From the little Spanish I could understand, their cemetery got full, so they dug up a bunch of corpses and decided to make a little profit off the whole thing by displaying them in a museum. The dry climate here acts as a natural preserver, so you have all sorts of corpses (yes, corpses, not mummies like in the horror films) in various stages of decay. And I do mean all sorts of corpses - men, women, children. I'm sure that's descriptive enough, but for those of you as morbidly interested as I was (and hey, we all are, because this museum is pretty darn popular), I've included a few of my favorite photos. Yes, Guanajato, charming little town!