Mexico - Part 2

Tulum

The next morning we grabbed the Ado bus to go to Tulum. We saw some missionaries in the bus terminal (we had seen them the day before on our way to Chichen Itza, too). Missionaries are pretty ubiquitous in Southern Mexico.

Tulum was about a 3-4 hour bus ride from Valladolid and is located down the coast from Cancun. In the last decade, Cancun has started creeping southward. Play del Carmen now has dozens of huge resorts. It looks like Tulum is the next logical Cancun colonization. It has the beautiful beaches, a few close ruins, and a fun little city. We had printed off a map that had at least a dozen hostels listed, all right along the beach. So, all we had to do was find our way to the beach and then we were planning on just staying in one of the hostels.

We grabbed a map of the town from the bus terminal and it didn’t look too far away. However, after asking around it was established that it was probably too far to walk. So we grabbed the colectivo. Most of the city of Tulum is a couple of miles from the beach. There is one road that leads to the beach and then you can turn right or left and there are hotels, hostels and cabanas all along the beach in either direction. The bus took us down the road and took a right. We weren’t quite familiar enough with the colectivo system at this point and neither of us had a good view out the window. So after a few miles we hopped off the colectivo.

Turns out we had wanted to go to the left and head northeast, not southwest. Undeterred we started walking along the road next to the beach. We passed dozens of small boutique hotels and hostels. It was a hot and sunny day and we were feeling parched. We didn’t really see any of the places that had been recommended online and eventually we were so tired that we decided to just get a place at the next cabana. The next place that we happened upon was rather informal. Even compared to the hostels we had already stayed in on this trip. But for $35/night we could stay in tiny private cabana with an incredible view of the sunrise and the ocean.

We put our bags down inside and within minutes, ants were swarming all over Mrs. Bluth’s bag. She had a few cookies in the side pockets of the backpack. We broomed them out of our tiny cabana and hung the backpacks up and hoped they wouldn’t find their way back to the treats.

It was after lunch and we were hungry. A taxista happened to be hanging out and gave us a cheap ride back to town. We ate some lunch at a taco stand that had about a dozen different types of tacos. They were a tiny bit touristy.

Next up on the itinerary were the ruins of Tulum. Located right on the coast is a very picturesque ruins site. We took the colectivo there and followed the flow of tourists towards the ruins. We passed a muchacho with a baby lion. Some of the tourists were taking pictures with the lionito. The muchacho said that it was sleepy from just eating, I think it was mildly drugged. No cat wants to be passed around to dozens of tourists, even if it just ate.

We wandered into the ruins of Tulum. Possibly because these ruins have been popular for years and possibly because they are located so close to the ocean, but they seemed pretty run down. Even for ruins, that is.

It was only a few acres worth of ruins and the biggest most impressive one was closed. Couldn’t even really get close enough to get a good picture. So much for being a picturesque site. We found another pair of Idahoans on vacation. There is just something that emanates from people from our same culture.

The Tulum ruins has its own little private beach. We didn’t get in but I made the mistake of getting my sandals wet. The exit to the ruins was only a mile and a half from our little cabana so we started hoofing it home. My wet sandals started chafing against my soft, weak feet. My feet were much too used to shoes and several days in sandals was starting to irritate them.

It was near supper time but there was no where to eat along the beach. All of the food was in main part of the city. So far we had been driven there but for some reason I thought we could walk it. It was a very, very long walk. I had to take my sandals off for most of the way and it got dark pretty quickly. Up ahead on the trail we could see a green light that we assumed was the city lights. It was only the halfway point.

3 miles later we arrived to the outskirts of town. Exhausted. We ate at the first restaurant we saw. Mariscos. The Mrs. isn't a big raw seafood fan, so she mostly watched me eat and had antojitos.

We were much too tired to trek home so we hailed a cab and arrived to a very dark cabana. No electricity but they were kind enough to leave us a candle. We laid our spare sheet over the bed (we very much did not trust these sheets) and dropped the mosquito net. We could hear the ocean rolling on to the shore about 50 feet away all night. I also had to get up and use the toilet twice during the night.

The sunset was pretty spectacular. We opened our little window and drank it all in. Because we had been keeping a pretty brisk schedule we decided to make it a beach day. I went to take a quick shower in our little communal washroom. It was pretty grody. I didn’t actually feel much cleaner. We laid out for a little whilem and enjoyed the Caribbean sun.

After a short morning of laying out, we noticed that whoever owned our little cabana had invited a handful of friends over. About lunch time we noticed that they were getting ready to leave and they looked to have a couple of extra seats in the back of their pickup. They graciously agreed to let us catch a ride. We were definitely avoiding that three mile walk.

They dropped us off somewhere in the touristy area near a grocery store. Tulum was just a little too big so we decided to rent bikes for a day. For only $5-6 per person we were able to rent bikes for 24 hours. We rode up and down the street just next to the main street. Why the street just next to the main street? Because that is where all the good food places are. If you’re on the main street, all of the food is touristy and expensive. Just off the main street, the food is cheap and delicious. We found some very inexpensive (and spicy) tacos for lunch. And we drank our horchata out of a bag.

The three mile bike ride back to the beach went much quicker than our walk the day before. The trail is very windy and we were passed by a couple dozen people coming the other way. Very well developed and a neat trail.

We decided to hang a right (where the colectivo had taken us the prior day) and explore the beaches that way. We would ride for a while, stop, lounge for an hour, and do it again.

As we left our cabana that morning we decided that we needed one night in a place nice enough to have a clean shower. So we asked around at a couple of hotels and found one in the city to stay at (the ones on the beach would have broken our already damaged budget). The hotel we checked into was beautiful and not just because it was the first set of clean sheets during out trip. It was just quaint and a vacation from our vacation. As soon as we checked in we took showers. It had only been 5 days since our last real shower with soap, hot water, and a real faucet (all of the previous showers only had one of the three).

All of that lounging and sun made me very hungry. So we rode that trail back to civilization (that trail was a recurring theme of Tulum) and again dragged the street next to the main street. We found a little diner (using the term “diner” loosely) called “El Aguacate”. We ordered too much food and talked to the owner for most of the evening. They had only opened the diner about a year earlier and the tourism was enabling them to do incredibly well. From there we wandered to the park to have some ice cream.

Because we didn’t have a three mile trek home that evening we had a little extra time at the hotel. So of course we took another shower. You don’t know what you're missing until it’s gone.

The next morning we had a fancy breakfast (after a third shower) at the hotel and headed to the bus terminal. This time we were headed to a tiny little town called Coba.

Coba

In order to get to Coba the bus (which is one of the large Greyhound style buses) takes a small detour and drives down one road, maybe half a mile, drops off the Coba bound people and drives back up the road. Turns out that half-mile stretch of road is the entire town. There was one hotel, a couple of convenience stores, a bicycle rental with about 8 bikes, a church, a butcher's shop, and a souvenir shop.

Because there was only one place to stay...we decided to stay there. It was inexpensive and far from the worst place that we stayed. But it wasn’t the luxury that we had encountered in the hotel from the night before.

We wandered down to the bike shop and rented two cruisers. The cruisers took us to the ruins of Coba just a half mile away. The ruins of Coba are a fairly recent development and are not super developed. In recent years they have become more and more popular despite being off the tourist-beaten path. The town of Coba seems to be preparing to bank on their ruins becoming popular. They have built a zip line to “soar over the Mayan jungle” and are attracting vendors and other touristy things.

Anyways, we parked the cruisers outside of the ruins and rented different bikes inside of the ruins. Silly rule. But the ruins were several acres and we had evolved past our walking days. The jungle was very think in these ruins and because they, like Ek Balam, were pretty new, we were allowed to climb on the ruins. We saw our first pyramid that wasn't square. It was a circular, kind of like a bee hive. (Well, like the beehive on the Deseret Book label, we've never seen a real beehive shaped like that).

The main pyramid was very steep and the steps were not very even. I think they were working under a deadline because most of the other pyramids in So Mex had very even steps. Someone had graciously hung an enormous chain down the middle so that we wouldn't lose our balance and roll down dozens of uneven steps. We reached the top and of course there was nothing but flat, Mayan jungle for miles. The natives must have really loved the feeling of being able to be above it all and looking out over all the land.

After we finished the ruins we commenced our greatest adventure of the trip. Only a few miles outside of city limits (and the reason we had rented bikes for this tiny town) were two more centores to visit. There was thick jungle and nothing else on the ride out. We reached the first cenote which was, of course crystal clear. The stairs from the surface descended into an island in the middle of the cavern. There was one other family of Chilangos swimming and I was able to swim around almost the entire island. The water was only about 11 feet deep.

We wanted to make sure we had time for the next cenote so we hopped on our bikes after a half hour or so. The guide at the last cenote told us that the water was 40 meters deep (!) and that there was platforms on the stairs that we could jump from. As we descended we were met by a lady who was exiting and announced that we had the place to ourselves.

The cenote did not disappoint. It was an enormous cavern. The view from above was incredible. The water was so clear (they even make you take a quick shower up above before you climb down) that you could see straight to the bottom and I couldn't tell where the water ended and the air began. We were looking directly into the Earth! There were just enough lights that we could see but still felt like we were underground, it was a slightly eerie vibe. Somehow they had built a cement pad in one section of the cavern and that was where the stairs descended into. For some reason, the cement pad was six inches underwater.

We explored for a few minutes before I decided to try jumping from the stairs. There were two heights; one at 5 meters and one at 10. As I peered down from the 5 meter platform, I was nervous because, again, the water is so clear that I could not tell where it was exactly. So with an undignified yell I threw myself into the void. Other people had started entering at this point and they cheered when I came back up for air. I felt like an Olympic diver, except I had basically landed in a feet first fetal position instead of a twirly, jackknife dive.

The second platform was a dangerous-feeling 33 feet but was a lot less scary after conquering the first jump. We swum around the pool for awhile but it was a little unnerving to look down and see the rocks below us but no matter how far down we reached we couldn't find the bottom. After just paddling around for a little while I heard a call from above “Mayan sunset, time to go!”

Indeed, it was darker outside of the cave than inside. The road back was darker still. Although Coba is infrastructuring their town, nobody has placed any street lights in the jungle between the cenotes and Coba. The moon wasn’t anywhere to be found and so we just chugged along in the complete dark and hoped we didn’t make the one possible wrong turn. 20 minutes later we emerged, unscathed, from the trail and headed to the hotel for some dinner. I asked the concierge (using the term “concierge” loosely here) where we could get some cochinita pibil for supper. He encouraged us to eat at the restaurant on top of the hotel. It was delicious, and like most nights, we fell asleep exhausted.

Back to Tulum

There was a rather obnoxious rooster somewhere on the same block as the hotel where we were staying. Apparently roosters sometimes awaken before sunrise, this one sure did.

We got up and were planning on taking the first bus back to Tulum (we had managed to do everything there was to do in Coba already). We took our bikes back to the bike rental store but they weren’t open yet. So we rode up and down this street and back towards the ruins for a little bit. Eventually the bike shop opened and we returned the bikes. We returned to the hotel to grab some fruit and treats for breakfast. Somehow we missed the first bus but the second wasn’t too far behind.

A couple hours later, still in the AM, we arrived back in Tulum. We rented another pair of bikes (yes our legs were aching from all of the bike riding) and rode out to get another cabana. Unfortunately Fidel had rented out all of his cabanas for the night. We had to work our way down the beach looking for room. We found a different cabana 50 meters into the jungle from the beach. After settling in we decided to take a walk down the beach. It started to rain on us just a little bit. Mostly we were just relaxing and getting some sun in.

I can’t really remember what else happened that day. Or what we ate. I think we rode back to town to eat. But I do not quite recall.

Church, Playa del Carmen, Cancun
The next morning we hopped on our bikes to go to church, bags and all. (Note: It is hard to keep track of days when on vacation. Every day feels like Friday or Saturday.) Five minutes into the ride the chain on my single-speed slipped off. We were planning an hour bike ride to get there and this set us back about ten minutes.

We found the little chapel on the far side of town and waddled into a sacrament with Mexicans, expats, resorters, and tourists. There were some great messages and we were able to check email-after the meeting of course. (Somebody at Church headquarters has standardized the Wireless access throughout the world and that person deserves a raise).

Next we returned our bikes back to the bike shop. And said goodbye to Tulum. We were less than 24 hours from heading home.

We caught a colectivo to Playa del Carmen. Playa is a very touristy city where we saw lots of gringos. We ate some chilaquiles and headed to, you guessed it, the beach. Sundays are an extra fun day at the beach because the Mexicans have work off and get to spend time on the beach. There were soccer matches going on and plenty of kids running around. As we wandered up and down the beach we ran into an enormous EDM festival. The sounds waves reverberated up and down the beach while guys and coeds danced all along the beach.

Later Mrs. Bluth got some pizza from a place with a long line, which is usually a good sign. But this time she didn’t like it. I opted for some fish tacos. They were quite different from Tijuana fish tacos but still fresh and good. We wandered around downtown Playa until quite late. There were plenty of bars with the NFL playoffs on and there were even tourists walking around with Patriots jerseys on.

We were getting tired but we had one last leg to our journey. From Playa del Carmen we needed to get to the Cancun airport. Our flight was an early morning flight and we didn’t want to pay to stay somewhere that we would just have to leave at 4am. Fortuantely the colectivos run 24 hours towards Cancun.

Around midnight we arrived to the entrance of the airport. I asked a gas station attendant how far it would be to walk to the actual terminals. He wasn’t sure and had never seen anyone do it but he said it was paved the whole way. So we took off on foot and headed towards the terminal. Over a couple hundred yards, a very kind hotel shuttle picked us up and drove us the rest of the way. He dropped us off at terminal B and we headed inside to find a corner to nap in.

Airports, like Mexican tour buses, love their air conditioning. I would not be surprised to find out that that the Cancun airport temperature is set to 62 degrees. I was wearing a sweatshirt and was wrapped up in the sheet we brought and could not maintain a comfortable temperature. Poor Mrs. Bluth was straight up shivering. Also, there were not enough chairs for everyone that had the same idea as us (to spend the night in the airport). Thus we were sprawled out on this extra firm and well-polished tiles that were also freezing. It was a cold night.

Around 4:30 am some nice looking gentleman came around announcing that they would be opening security soon and we could head in. At this point we realized we were in the wrong terminal. He steered us towards a taxi driver that offered to take us to terminal C. We hopped in and he drove us maybe half a mile. I asked what we owed him and he, seeing our tired, gringo faces, generously said he would accept $30.

$30 for half a mile? Not even in Chicago, not even in New York, and certainly not in Cancun (even if it was 4am at the airport). I not so calmly explained that we would rather be returned to where he picked us up at or he could accept all the rest of the pesos that I had in my pocket. Maybe $4 or so. He protested and I protested and finally we gruffly exchanged money and both left angry. Guess he should have turned the meter on.

We were the first people in line for security and breezed through. I checked lost and found for my iPhone. No luck. Then we waited another couple of hours for our plane to take off. Soon we were on our way back home. iPhone-less, tanned, exhausted, feet covered in blisters, and no worse for the wear after spending an adventure backpacking through the ruins of Southern Mexico. Hasta luego!

Mexico - Part 1

We would recommend backpacking to just about anyone. The two backpacking trips that we have made together have been horizon-expanding (and Verizon-expanding in this more recent trip), bonding, and more fun than Redboxing.

On January 10th the Mrs. and I left 30 degree Chicago for 80 degree Mexico. This is our blog post.

The Start:

We left on a Saturday afternoon. I had purchased a large hiking backpack (not too huge, 40L or so) and Mrs. was taking her old school backpack that was a good sized day-pack. Because we didn't want to be carrying around our Chicago-essential coats and layers, we didn't take any. I was wearing a long pair of khakis that would double as church pants and fancy restaurants pants (if we found or frequented any). I also wore my guayabera from the DR and a sweatshirt.

The Mrs. had a pair of leggings, for warmth, under a skirt (also being used for church) and a t-shirt and hoodie.

Luckily we live very close to the train that would take us directly to the airport. We didn't have to spend more than a few cold minutes on the train platform before we were in the warm train and on our way.

Our flight was delayed a couple hours and I started a book called The Lazarus Project and Mrs. busied herself with her cell phone. Waiting in airports is kind of cold.

Our flight took off a little after 8 pm and we landed in a dark but warm Cancun. It reminded me of the Strip in Las Vegas. We hadn't come for this so we immediately grabbed a colectivo to the bus terminal to get us away from the party scene. We were chatting up some Irish travelers that were looking for a hostel in Cancun when I went to pull out my cell phone to pass them the names of a few places we had considered boarding. Alas, my phone was missing. Probably left on the plane as we had only been on the ground for less than an hour.

Merida

Anyway, we purchased tickets for a 4-hour bus ride that would take us to Merida, the capital of the Yucatan. I promptly fell asleep (it's about 2am at this point, conveniently the same time zone as Chicago). One thing about Mexican bus systems: the air conditioning works really well. And the chauffeurs love to crank it. Mrs. Bluth fell asleep a couple hours later after tossing and turning in the seat next to me.

We arrived in Merida a few minutes before the sun. Stumbling out of the bus terminal, a little bleary eyed and disoriented, we asked how to get to the main plaza. I wasn't completely sure if there was a main plaza in Merida, but Mrs. Bluth had done some research and most Mexican cities have main plazas (you know, with a park, cathedral, and government buildings or museum).

Several taxi drivers offered us a ride, it was still dark out, but we were ready to try out our sandals. Mrs. Bluth has a trusty pair of Chacos that she has used for a lot of our outings and her previous internship in the DR. I was breaking in a pair of Tevas like I was river-rafting tour guide. So off we hoofed it in search of the main plaza.

Merida is a colonial city with beautiful, paved streets and short buildings. Everything is built all the way to the sidewalk and so the streets feel really narrow. We followed the path of the colectivos until we burst into an opening that contained a park and a cathedral. The sun was into the sky at this point and we had heard there was a church nearby (the Catholic mass would surely have been neat, but we also like visiting our foreign Mormon congregations when abroad) that was starting at 9.

I don't recall how we knew how to get there. We knew that it shared a plot with the Merida temple, so we just asked if anyone knew where was the giant iglesia Mormona. Most temples are built in very visible places and allegedly they cause recurring car crashes (Washington DC, San Diego). But because Merida has that colonial style going for it, where all of the buildings reach the sidewalks, the Merida temple was almost hidden inside of a city block. Instead of being able to see Moroni from blocks away, we didn't notice it until we were about a block away. And we had to walk around the whole city block to find the hidden entrance to the property.

We received a warm, over-the-pulpit welcome (visiting us from the state of Chicago!) and happened to be attending the same meeting as a General Authority who spoke.

We said hi to a lot of members and a gaggle of missionaries. We also met the assistants (both Americans but apparently only knew Spanish) and office missionaries.

We wandered the grounds for a few minutes and took some pictures. Temples are just so photogenic.

Then we wandered towards downtown. Apparently that first park and cathedral hadn't been the main plaza because we soon found the main plaza. And we had chosen the right week to come. We were right in the middle of Merida Fest!

There was also some running race, we couldn’t quite tell what distance. 5k? Marathon? Coca-Cola was a prominent sponsor.

They were closing off the streets to cars around the main plaza so that the citizens and visitors could ride their bikes around the plaza and other festivities could commence. One entire side of the park was being set up as little cafeterias, taco stands, and antojito stops. We sat and watched a clown (this would not be the only clown that we saw in on our trip, apparently clowns are quite popular in Southern Mexico), ate cochinita pibil, and explored a museum full of exhibits on Mexican and global architecture.

By noon the plaza was hopping. As we were snapping a couple pictures of the scene a man dodged our camera and started explaining to us why this was the best time to visit. Thus we learned about Merida Fest. He worked for the government and they had been preparing for a long time for this event. He was friendly and we asked him for a couple of recommendations on where we should stay that night. He disapproved of one hostel we had heard of (bedbugs) but recommended a B&B that was right there on the main plaza.

We decided to search out the hostel with good reviews online but our only directions were "North of Main Square". After an hour or so we ended up finding it only to find out that it was full. Plausibly because of the Festival and in spite of the bedbugs. We hustled back to the Main Plaza to inquire after a room in the B&B that had been recommended to us. All they had was a private room which, of course, worked great for us. Finally we were able to shed our backpacks (which had sat on the floor in church like two reverent children) and leave them in our room. Of course, we promptly fell asleep for a quick Sunday nap.

That evening we continued walking around the festival downtown. We found places to find Mayan-crafted hammocks. I thought all of the guayaberas looked nice, too. We found some tasty gorditas to dine on.

Because it was a festival to celebrate Merida they had invited the one and only Yuri Buenaventura to perform. We were in our seats an hour early but were still 2/3 of the way to the back after about 3 songs it started to rain lightly. And so we took to the middle of the street to salsa dance with all of the other young folks. The Mrs. has much better rhythm than I do. After another song it was really starting to come down and everyone scattered and sought cover. Because our hostel was right on the plaza we were able to go in and still could hear the music.

Even though we danced with the young people there, we are, in fact, old. I was definitely ready for bed before his set list was over. Even the rain didn’t shorten the concert.

Valladolid

We awoke fairly early and pretty well-rested. Having explored enough of Merida in the 24 hours we had been there we decided to take the bus to Valladolid. A few hours to the east of us. By late morning we were winding our way into a pretty small, colonial city.

Upon exiting the bus terminal we asked about a hostel that someone had recommended in Merida. As we were wandering towards the hostel we ran into a couple more missionaries. They weren’t quite helpful in finding the hostel. Mrs. Bluth noticed that they’re pants were rather well-used. They reminded me a lot of my mission pants

The hostel we wanted had a couple spots in the dormitory. Having lucked out and gotten a private room the night before, we decided to keep looking around in case somewhere else had a better accommodation.

Valladolid also had that narrow-street, colonial feel but was quite a bit smaller. We stumbled onto the main square with the cathedral. Eventually we headed down the street of the 5 Frailes. As we were walking past a building, Mrs. Bluth noticed it said “hostel”. We asked about prices and he showed us a dormitory room with 3 bunk beds that he would give us as a private room for only 20 bucks. We said we’d come back.

We wandered to another hostel but the beds had plastic sheets. No thanks. We took the bunk beds.

We dropped off the backpacks and asked how to get to Ek Balam. Turns out it is only a short colectivo ride away. All of the ruins in Mexico are cheaper if you are a Mexican citizen. Wish we had dual citizenship.

Ek Balam had this family of puppies living right in the entrance. The tourists thought they were adorable. We thought they were sad looking and mangy.

One thing we really liked about Ek Balam was that they still allow people to climb on the pyramids. (Not sure about the archaeological implications of that). There were a couple of smaller structures and a couple of rooms that we could walk into. Then we walked around the corner and saw the big chalupa. Somehow it had been hidden by the forest and other structures, but I’m not sure how we couldn’t see it from a mile away.

Ek Balam is a relatively new site. It was “discovered” in the 1700’s but they only began excavating it in the early 1990’s. It had a couple of terraces on the side of the main pyramid that contained some incredibly detailed murals and statues. The view from the top of the pyramid was pretty impressive. You could see for miles over the Mayan forest.

After taking pictures on and of the ruins, we caught the last coletivo back to civilization. Apparently a lot of tour buses go to some of the big Mayan Ruins (like Chicen Itza) for the day and on their way back they stop in Valladolid so that the tourists can see what a “typical Mexican town” looks like. In the main plaza of Valladolid we found a couple of tour buses and several gringos and Europeans walking around.

We wandered away from the tourists in search of some food. Eventually we found a whole in the wall place that was running out of food. Always a good sign. We ate a half dozen panuchos before heading back to the plaza. We walked around the plaza and people-watched for an hour before heading back to our hostel to turn in.

Our private room’s walls didn’t quite reach the ceiling and no one was trying to go to bed early. So, we spent our anniversary in separate beds tossing and turning while listening to the backpackers discuss the intricacies of hitch hiking through Thailand and Belize.

Happy Anniversary, Boo!

We awoke pretty early because we were headed to probably the most famous and touristy destination of our trip--Chichen Itza! Chichen Itza is an enormous ruins site that has one of the largest pyramids in Mexico.  There was an Ado bus that took us right to the site. We arrived shortly after it opened and before most of the tourists from the resorts and cruise lines had arrived.

The site was pretty incredible. Of particular interest to Mr. Bluth was the ball court. The effort that it must have taken to build this structures was monumental. So of course, a ball court must have been a priority (If you’ve seen this clip, you know what is the ball game).

The pictures probably show it best:

By the afternoon we were tuckered out and ready to head back to our hostel. We got back to Valladolid and decided to eat at a place called Casona. As we had eaten at different places throughout the trip, we had noticed that most had a “sopa de limon” on the menu. We decided to try it at this place and it might have been Mrs. Bluth’s favorite dish of the trip. Good call.

Replenished and re energized from our meal we rented a couple bikes (10 pesos an hour) and rode a couple of miles out to a pair of cenotes. Cenotes are sinkholes or pools in caverns located in the Yucatan peninsula. The peninsula basically has no rivers, instead most of the water seeps into the ground and travels in underground caves and streams. At places, they form very still, very clear pools. These sinkholes are crystal clear for a couple of reasons. No debris ever falls into the water because they are underground. Also, the water has been filtered through layers of rock.

These were two very impressive cenotes. The first was mostly dark, like the cave in “The Hobbit” where Gollum and Bilbo riddle each other. There were these little black fish that would swim right up to your feet and nibble on your dead skin cells. How refreshing! (Mrs. Bluth disagrees). Some of the stalactites were 20 feet long and reached into the water and we could swim around them.

We dallied in the first cenote for a little while before heading to the second. This second one had a window in the roof of the cavern that a tree had tried to grow down. It’s roots were hanging 20 feet down towards the water. Pretty neat.

We stayed until it was almost sunset and rode the couple miles back to Valladolid. That evening we went to a little puesto that served cochinita pibil. I think that it is pork that has been cooked in an underground oven. At the puesto, it came in three options. On a torta, taco, or polcan. I tried all three. A torta is a like a pulled pork sandwich (not BBQ flavor though). A taco is a taco. And a polcan is a little piece of dough that they fry and then cut it open and fill with cochinita. I loved all 3 of them.

We then spent the rest of the evening walking around Valladolid and ended up at the plaza again where we tried a “Mayan” crepe. I got cheese and Nutella. The fusion was flawless.

On our way back to the hostel, we purchased a pair of ear plugs so that I could better sleep through the musings of our hostel-mates.

Valladolid was incredible. Everything was relatively close, the city was beautiful, and the food was delicious.