I spent the last few days traveling from Cancun down the ‘Mayan Riviera’ in Mexico towards my ultimate destination of Belize. Highlights of these few days:
- The most delicious fresh fish cerviche from a little restaurant in Tulum, frequented by the locals who know that the fishermen drop their fish there and the food is the best in the business. Sitting outside in the humid air, sipping a cold Sol, looking across the road to a big red truck covered in falling blossoms. It was pretty great.
- My best new friend Coco Loco. Until I drank all his brains and we fought and I removed his mouth in a fit of spite and anger. Then he was ‘taken away’ to a ‘better place’ by a ‘waiter’. He never got to know how I really felt about him.
- I wandered through the Tulum Ruins. Tulum was a Mayan walled city, which was the port for Coba (further inland). I was the first one there! Well, not the first person *ever* there. But the first person on that particular day. I’m that person they talk about in the guidebooks – the one who gets up at 5am to make it ‘before the tourists’. To be fair, it was pretty great to see the ruins without millions of other people traipsing around.
- I crossed the border into Belize by taking one of the old school buses filled with Belizeans who have hopped across the border for a day of shopping in Mexico. One lady was transporting a giant red truck-shaped pinata back across to Belize! When you need a giant red truck-shaped pinata, you need a giant red truck-shaped pinata, I guess. There were a number of these salubrious buses to choose from and competition for my $3 fare was hot. A number of bus-boys, whose chief job seemed to be to rustle up bus business, propositioned me and the other two travelers I’d found. This competition was not, in fact, due to our $3 fare but because of some sort of slippery dealing at the Mexican border, which seems to include the border official, the bus boy and maybe the driver all getting a cut of a “departure tax” (at the expense of the Mexican government and/or the gringo tourists). I did my best to cut through the scam at the border, with some well placed questions and an astonishingly convincing portrayal of ‘idiot non-Spanish speaking gringo tourist’ but ultimately I was no match for this slick operation so I paid my$20 USD, greased the oily hands of the Mexican border and was done with it. The best bit of this whole crazy bus adventure was when we left the terminal in Chetumal. The driver cranked some Latin crooner music to full volume and the bus boy hung out the door farewelling (or perhaps skiting to) his fellow bus boys with much waving and yelling. It was a little bit like he was a soldier going off to fight for his country.
- That was too much information for one bullet point.
- This is a picture of a road-side Mexican pineapple stand.
And now I am in Belize and there are thunderstorms! It’s the rainy season! I should have known! More to come! In the future!