The Riviera Maya: Interesting, but not our cuppaLater in the afternoon we ventured out of our luxurious room at the holiday Inn in Chetumal. We walked down to towards the water, window shopping and looking for a good place for dinner. On almost every block of the wide boulevard a DJ had set up concert sized speakers and amplifiers and was blasting his favorite music at full volume. As we walked along the cacophonies competed with each other and we wondered just what kind of primitive tribal ritual we had stumbled upon. Nobody else seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary.At Jane's insistence (I am the Spanish speaker, sort of) I asked what was going on. That evening, it turned out, was the beginning of Chetumal's Carnival (think Rio de Janeiro's carnival or Mardi Gras in New Orleans) After a modest dinner we went back out on the street and watched entranced as the first hour of several hours of elaborate floats with music and dancers and COSTUMES! I did not have my camera with me (duh!) and did not get any pics. See this and this taken by others for examples.
On arriving in Chetumal I had been easily able to arrange for a rental car with drop-off privileges in Cancun. The next morning (Sunday January 27th) we drove north up the coast. We planned to stop in Tulum, where our friends have a vacation house. After lunch in town, we drove a few miles north to see their villa, which is incredibly beautiful. Then we backtracked to the Mayan ruins which sit on the highest land along the coast, on a beautiful limestone bluff overlooking the ocean. Unfortunately what has been done with the site is disappointing -- or maybe we had been spoiled by the other sites we had visited. Too many tourists and too little restriction on what they walk all over. Many visitors were wearing what we thought was scanty attire, until we realized that the site includes two classically beautiful beaches, and swimming is permitted.
From Tulum we continued north, along what is advertised as the "Mayan Riviera." We were not favorably impressed. The coastline boasts one huge vacation destination resort after another. Sort of Disney World meets unblemished pristine Caribbean coastline -- and devours it! This captures the flavor. From what we can tell, most of the business is package tours. Vacationers from the US and lots from Europe (the Euro is strong!) fly nonstop to Cancun, board giant tour buses, and drive directly into these gated resorts. there they spend a few days or a week, and leave without ever having seen a Mexican out of uniform.
We spent the night in Playa del Carmen, probably the town where this Riviera Maya thing began. Was it masochism or a desire to understand the why of the phenomenon? I found us a modest little hotel just a few blocks from the beach. Within three or four blocks of our hotel we found an instance of every (no exaggeration) chain restaurant and lots of designer outlets. The big box stores (up to and including Wal-Mart) were out on the main highway. Notwithstanding all this, the beach itself was one of the prettiest I have seen, or at least it probably was before every square inch of real estate was occupied by chaise lounges, umbrellas, covered mattresses (use your imagination) and wet bars. Mercifully I took no photos in 'Playa.' Interested readers can search Flickr or other sites.
Monday we set out for Chichen Itza. One more stop on the coast had been suggested, though, so we turned off the highway at the sign for Puerto Morelos. To our surprise we discovered a cute little fishing village with a small, low rent tourist component. Jane found the kind of string hammock Vey had recommended, which we bought for our porch at Idle Pine. Next we went into an internet place, so that I could write some of this, but all the computers were taken. Jane's noticed a cute little blond haired boy, who looked vaguely familiar. On closer inspection he turned out to be little Ozyen, whose mother Marie-Douce was using one of the computers. Their father and husband, respectively, is Dan Rippe, who works with me in the summer on Lake Fairlee! What a magnificent coincidence!
We got directions from Marie-Douce and drove across town to where Dan was at work building a house on stilts in the jungle for his family. After recovering from his surprise Dan showed us around, and introduced us to his neighbors and friends. My shock was demonstrably as great as his, as I completely forgot to take my camera out of its case while we were there. His house is built of local hardwoods. Strangely they don't seem to have any construction grade softwoods, like pine. Therefore even studs and furring are made from what in the US would be exotic and expensive. It will probably last a long time.
We left Dan's before noon, and headed inland. The map showed a solid line road another 20 Km. until it reached the next town and met a main road. With each mile the quality of the dirt road deteriorated. Jane noticed that the gas tank was only about a quarter full. I assured her that we would have more than enough gas. But with each passing mile as the potholes got bigger and deeper she became increasingly inconsolable. I was having to come to nearly a complete stop and guess which side of the muddy lake spanning the road might be shallower. At one point we passed another obviously tourist car coming the other direction and were given a little hope. After an hour and a half (to go about 15 miles) we emerged from the jungle into civilization and found gas and lunch.
After another hour we arrived in Valladolid, where I had booked us a room for two nights. Sometimes when booking hotels on the web I don't really know what I will be getting. This time I felt really good based on its web site. And I was even more impressed by the real thing when we arrived. This classic Colonial style hotel had what I call 'old-European' ambiance, great food, and a quiet unhurried atmosphere. It would be a great place from which to explore our last Mayan site, Chichen Itza.
But that will have to wait for a final chapter, as this one has dragged on quite long enough now. Until the next time . . . .
