Dec. 21, 2012- the day the world ends. Or ended. We weren’t sure, as we were at about 32,000 feet flying over the Gulf of Mexico, and couldn’t really observe much going on below. However, we were aware that we were headed for one of the hot-spots for that supposed ending- Chichen Itza, Quintana Roo, Mexico. Yeah, that Chichen Itza. The one with the snake descending the stairs of the pyramid during the Spring Equinox. The same place that would, likely, be mobbed by thousands of people on the fateful December 21st.
Of course when we’d planned this Christmas vacation we didn’t pay a lot of attention to the End of the World racket and media play. Our chosen dates were based on more prosaic concerns like joining 5 of our pals who were planning to vacation in Cancun, and on our work schedules.
Back in the summer, when our friends were planning this trip, they kept after us to join them. We dillied and dallied and by the time I got around to finding a relatively inexpensive Delta vacation package (air and all-inclusive resort stay for 7 nights), we ended up staying at a less-expensive, “kid-friendly” resort just up the beach in the Hotel Zone in Cancun rather than joining our pals at their rather more expensive digs.
Ever the conscientious shopper, I earmarked the money we thus “saved” for a rental car and day trips. My plan was to visit our pals at their resort and also schedule several day-trips OUT of Cancun (a destination I’ve always considered as Miami South, simply a place for air transfers) to visit Mayan ruins and other places I explored when I stayed in the Akumal/Tulum area in 1999.
Robin had never visited Mayan ruins or Mexico for that matter, and had been studying Spanish for a couple of years so, I thought What the Hell, Let’s Go, I’ll be tour guide and Robin can be Translator!
Well, as I was reminded, there’s a reason I’ve had this long-standing aversion to the All-Inclusive (AI) experience. Like cruise ships, to me the very idea of being “cooped up” with 2500 of my newest friends and people sharing their germs over buffet meals and SCREAMING, poorly-behaved KIDS and their I-don’t-believe-in-discipline-and-am-not-responsible PARENTS is, just, OMG, anathema. Hell. On. Earth.
True to the AI experience, resort “guests” were treated more like medium-security prisoners, and as a result we never saw our pals after we all got off the same arrival flight in Cancun. The resorts do not allow anyone to visit from another resort (without paying an $80.00+ fee, which I do understand, with food and drink being included but really, guys, there should be a way to ”tag” visitors who don’t want to eat or drink without paying for the privilege). The resort main reception phones aren’t answered, so you can’t leave a message for anyone at a hotel Reception desk. You can’t even leave an envelope or a message for a guest at Reception—there’s no cooperation to try to help anyone off the resort to communicate with any guest of the resort. In fact, the lack of cooperation is very emphatic and made quite clear.
Remember- this was 2012, before the advent of widely available WiFi at tourist destinations. We didn’t have the international plan from our telecom carrier, as we would routinely have for subsequent trips abroad.
At this time, it would have taken an international call placed from a one-off cell phone we would have needed to purchase simply to call one of the girls who had an international account with HER mobile carrier, and that was Way too complex cuz after all, hell, they were just like 4 kilometers from us! Believe me, both parties tried almost daily to connect with the other and next to pulling a James Bond-esque stunt, it simply wasn’t worth it to keep trying to find and visit our friends.
We were so happy to have the freedom afforded by our rental car “Sneezy”- aptly named due to the sneezing sound it would emit about every 30 seconds while the AC was running. We laughed about Sneezy, with Grumpy and Dopey, making the rounds of the Mayan Riviera! I swear, every trip we take that we rent a car, that car always has something weird and problematic about it. Stories about our rental cars would make up a blog in itself!
Thus, we were delighted to haul ass every day to get away from the seething mass of noisy people and the traffic of Cancun. A couple of different days, we headed down the coast some 2-3 hrs south to visit Tulum and Coba ruins and snorkel in cenotes and eat at some great restaurants on the beach.
Xmas eve was the day we chose to drive west some 3 hours through the jungle to visit Chichen Itza, avoiding the End of the World hoards of 3 days earlier. Turned out to be a smart move–we got there early in the morning, before the tourist busses arrived, and managed to see most of the sights that this awesome World Heritage site offers.
Our Chichen Itza photos here.
In the heat of mid-day, we drove a few klicks east to Ik’ Kil cenote, a spectacular cenote I had missed during my 1999 visit. The photos and video I took managed to capture a real sense of this place, which must be simply breathtaking when it isn’t mobbed with screaming kids.
In the early afternoon, on our way back to Cancun we wandered through the scenic, old Mexican town of Valladolid. We used our handy printed-out Google map to locate Taberna de los Frailes, a simply splendiferous restaurant I’d read about on Trip Advisor.
This place was everything reviewers had reported— a marvelous find lost in the maze of narrow, dusty alleys and back streets of the old town, next to a small park and nestled against the walls of a Spanish nunnery dating from the 1500s. The food was genuine Mayan fare, from scratch, inexpensive, fresh and totally yummy.
After our late lunch we drove slowly through narrow streets leading to the town square. It was late Xmas eve day, the sun was shining, the air was cool and dry, and the narrow and dusty streets were swarming with smiling, laughing crowds. People clutched all manner of bags and boxes and crossed the street willy-nilly, seemingly unaware of the traffic crawling past. All colors of the rainbow swirled in the rugs, serapes and clothing for sale hanging over the sidewalks and in shopfronts. An open truck pulled up to the curb next to us and people began to help the driver unload very large and colorful pinatas. The hurly-burly and energy were distracting, I was glad I was only able to roll the car along at a creep.
But we had to head on to Cancun, which after a two hour drive, we arrived in the city “centro”, once again caught up in the last-minute holiday shopping frenzy, this time in the main market area for the locals. This place was simply insane– traffic every which way, drivers doing pretty much as they pleased with dangerous aplomb and blowing horns frequently and with elan. I almost hit 2 pedestrians and we barely avoided being rear-ended. Even a cop who was directing traffic gave us a shrug after he stopped crosswalk traffic, gestured for me to move along and watched as a pedestrian ran right in front of me. That person just missed an ambulance ride on Xmas eve.
We made it back to the hotel zone, finally, nerves totally frayed but, for once, glad to be back in the room. Ah now for some rest. Well, not so much, with the boom-boom of the disco reverberating through the walls until 11pm. Earplugs were useless against this nightly onslaught. Another amenity of our lovely AI…
I was delighted to take Robin on an extended tour of the seaside ruins of Tulum and the extensive ruins of Coba nearby. I had spent a week in the area in 1999 (my blog post is here) , so I knew the area quite well, the roads, the best times to arrive at different destinations, and nearby restaurants, and cenotes to snorkel.
These places simply do not disappoint. They have many faces: mysterious, atmospheric, scenic, aromatic, spooky, exhilarating and quietly pensive. It’s well worth doing one’s homework to walk (or in the case of Coba, bike) the many ancient sacbeob (raised, paved roads) and paths that cut through the jungle or connect different buildings and sites.
Another day we caught the ferry over to Isla Mujeres, and rented a golf cart with a ridiculous governor on it that had us creeping around the island at a crawling pace. But we did find a quiet spot or two from the maddening Isla crowds.
Basically, we stayed the hell OUT of our medium-security resort (Oasis Palms Hotel), where the elevators were tiny, cramped, airless and slow (and only 1 worked for ½ of the total resort property!); the shower hosed down the entire bath area and was never repaired; we never got towels we asked for (we took them off carts instead), the reception/desk staff were uniformly rude and completely unhelpful (so we stopped talking to them), items were routinely stolen from the rooms (a young woman frantically reported a male hotel staffer using an electronic card to enter her room, uninvited, through her locked door while she was alone) — etc etc.
To be sure, Trip Advisor had provided ample warning, with simply dozens of “Run Now, Don’t Stay Here!” reviews, and they were right. The place was simply mobbed with tons (and I mean, tons) of Fat American Families knocking you down as you minced your way to the buffet to get a banana for breakfast or dodged running kids to get near enough to stab a bit of the mystery-chicken-thing at dinner. The noise from live music, drums and bass-back-beats clearly reverberated up the seven stories to our room from the plaza below, from 8-11pm every night, augmenting the nearby disco racket. Geez, and this was the BEST option Delta vacations offered, after the expensive digs! And let’s see…. No chairs at the pool or tiny beach cuz they were all grabbed by the people at the “Grand” sister property next door, whose guests had exclusive access to better rooms and food (for a price) but their pool was in shade all day so they took all the lounge chairs at the Kid-Friendly crap sister resort with the terrific pool.
I’m the only person I know who went to an AI resort, brought in my own bottle of rum and some cokes, drank 25% of the rum, left it behind with the too-sweet cokes for the maids, and only ordered soda water with lime from the (quiet, out-of-the-way bar) the few times we sat at it after a day trip!
So forget the resort experience: check out my page with Mexico Trip Pix , with helpful captions.
Trip Coda: We flew home after 7 days in Cancun, drove into the house from the airport Thu. night, tossed dirty clothes into the hamper, repacked our suitcases, woke up early Friday and drove 7 hours down to central FL to arrive at my niece’s wedding exactly on time, 30 mins before the music cued up. Missing this wedding truly would have been The End of the World!
Check out my lengthier, meatier blog entry from my 1999 trip to the Yucatan.