| |
Copyright |
|
 |
 |
|
| |
| |
|
©2005 Jason Cross
All Rights Reserved
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
| |
|
As anyone who knows me can tell you, I am NOT a morning person. I laugh in the face of morning before slapping my snooze bar and leaping back into bed, and under many circumstances I will somehow manage to sleep for 10 to 12 hours given the chance (though I pay for the overabundance of sleep with a wooziness and headache the following day in most cases). For some reason, though, this wasn't a problem in Cozumel, as I managed to wake myself up around 7:30 or 8:00 am each day without the aid of an alarm. On our last day, I woke up at 6:30 much to my own disappointment, as who would want to get up at 6:30 on vacation of their own choosing? Ok, who under 40 that is?
So I got up and finished my packing, putting my fragile purchases in bags wrapped in dirty clothes to protect them from the oh-so-delicate baggage handlers. We then got dressed and went to breakfast at El Museo, a restaurant on the second-story balcony of the Cozumel museum overlooking the ocean. There I got a ham, cheese and pineapple omelet, a tropical taste combination quickly rising up in the ranks of my opinion, much like the "Hawaiiowan" sausage and pineapple pizza. We were going to look around the museum itself, but the workers shooed us out as we didn't have tickets which turned out to be $5 each despite only having a handful of exhibits (though I suppose that exaggerated pricing is traditional Cozumelian and thus fits in their museum).
I had a number of things that I wanted to buy prior to our catching the last ferry that could possibly get us to mainland in time to reach our flight, the first of which was a bottle of tequila. A few blocks from our villa was a liquor store which was recommended by a sheet of local recommended stores left by the villa management company – a reputable source if I have heard one! Going up to the counter, Shawn and I asked the worker what tequila he'd recommend. Grabbing a large amber bottle off of the shelf, he proudly declared that this, indeed, was the very type of tequila that he himself drank every weekend, for the price of only $45 US.
While I'm sure that tequila would have been quite good, I have never had tequila. None, even through this trip, my third time in Mexico. So I don't think I would have appreciated the $45 tequila anyway (and besides, I was several hundred dollars into spending money for this trip already and still had other stuff to buy). So I ended up buying a bottle of Jose Cuervo Especial – that's right, I went to Mexico and bought a bottle of tequila I could probably pick up at an Iowan liquor store. I also bought a small bottle of Gusano Rojo (translation: greasy royal) which had a large, presumably and hopefully dead, worm floating in it as a souvenir.
With breakfast over and our Cozumel time running out, we had to meet with Pedro to settle up our rental agreement and villa inspection (hoping he didn't catch on to our secret use of the laundry facilities), pay for and return the rental cars, get our stuff rounded up and to the pier for the ferry to Playa Del Carmen. We found the rental car agency, oddly enough in the same building as Fat Tuesdays (a fairly well known bar chain). Ahh, daiquiris and rental cars, always a good combination. We then took all of our bags to the pier where I guarded them with a watchful eye while Keith went to get the second load. Finally, I took off upon Keith's return to do a bit of last minute shopping around downtown before leaving.
The best way to get money in Cozumel is through the friendly local ATM, where the Wells Fargo Debit/Check Card will pay in pesos rather than dollars. At the time we were there, one peso equaled roughly 10 cents, so the quick and dirty math was to divide prices by 10 to approximate in dollars. Wanting to find a carved turtle of a design seen the day before at a ridiculously high price, I quickly went through ten or so shops in the area of town where bargaining was more likely. I finally found one with the exact design on its back I was seeking, negotiated the cost down by about 30%, and headed back to the pier.
By this time, it was about 10:55 and the boat was to leave at 11 am. Misty, Keith and the kids were already onboard and Mom and Shawn were waiting for me. Then, right as we got to the boat, they stopped letting people on. The next boat didn't leave until 1 pm, which meant we wouldn't be to the airport until 3 pm *at best*, and our flight left at 3:30. So we were a bit worried. I was about to try slipping the ticket taker 200 pesos to let us on, but lucky for us, it turned out that they had just temporarily stopped boarding to let an injured man strapped to a stretcher onboard.
Our last trip across the water from Cozumel also had the distinction as being the most unpleasant. For starters, there was this awful stench throughout the cabin, like a mixture of sulfur and other unnamed badness. Riding for 45 minutes in this reek would have been bad enough, but it was accompanied by five foot waves buffeting the boat back and forth, making many of the passengers very seasick, young Sebastian among them and Misty very nearly. Situations like that make me very happy that I have never been prone to motion sickness.
Upon reaching Playa, we disembarked as quickly as possible, happy to be off of the boat and that little bit further into our return trip. I found it somewhat odd that the man on the stretcher, who was laid at the front of the cabin, was not removed first, so everyone on the boat ended up having to walk by or past him. Perhaps we should consider it another example to file in the "Mexico life moving at a slower pace" file.
Around docks, bus stops and the like, there are often guys riding these inverse-tricycle looking contraptions, designed with two wheels in the front on opposite sides of a large storage area for the purpose of transporting bags for tourists for a modest fee. We hired two of these to take our bags to the bus station, where we had determined would be a good place to keep an eye on our stuff as some of us wasted some spare time in the city prior to renting a taxi to the airport. Shawn was excited about the prospect of being at the bus station again, as a newsstand there sold these little lunchmeat sandwiches he had discovered on our trip to Tulum and found scrumptious. Something about the idea of a lunchmeat sandwich from a bus stop would make me wary enough; something about the idea of one from a Mexican bus stop made me all the more so.
Instead, I opted for that oh-so-Mexican of restaurants, McDonalds, as Misty and Keith were taking the kids there. I had originally intended to get lunch at the oh-so-Mexican Dominos pizza next door, but they were out of lunch-size pizzas. They were out of small pizzas, even. In fact, according to the guy behind the counter, all they had left were large pizzas, so McDonalds it was. There I got an "hamburguesa con queso" rather than the "McPollo, Jr.", the "McBurrito", "McNifica", or even the mysterious-sounding "nueva McPechuga!" It's telling of the McDonalds process that from one country to another, their food can taste the exact same, and no, I don't want to think of the implications of that.
I made one last pass at Mexican shopping in Playa, which cemented the idea that I had already bought everything I wanted on the trip. Besides, jamming something extra into one of my suitcases would have been difficult at this point, and I really didn't feel a compelling need for a Tokemon t-shirt or a ceramic plate of my own. So for a final tally of what I purchased on this trip:
• A Papa Hogs t-shirt to commemorate my dive
• An iguana carved out of onyx
• A turtle carved out of black coral
• A cat carved out of black stone for someone else
• A bottle of Jose Cuervo Especial
• A small bottle of Gusano Rojo complete with a dead worm of some sort
• A couple shot glasses for the above-mentioned tequila
These, along with a bag of assorted pieces of brain coral and shells found on the beaches and about 220 pictures (love the digital camera) made quite a few souvenirs from my week-long trip.
After finding a union-approved taxi to take us to the Cancun airport, going through ticketing and check-in went very quickly. Passing through security did as well, except for one exception – my three year old nephew, Nate. Mom had given the boys these little suitcases embroidered with their name and a dinosaur for Christmas to take as carry-on bags, and for some reason Nate's bag set off whatever it is that makes security have to thoroughly check a bag. Digging through his little books and toys, they didn't find a bomb or narcotics, though Nate did take the opportunity to sneak a sucker out of his bag while they looked.
Misty and Keith's flight left ten minutes before ours, so it was at the airport that we went our separate ways. The Cancun airport is interesting in that in some places it is very nice, like where they have shopping and restaurants near the terminal, yet in others it is very run-down, specifically where you wait for the plane, with incomplete ceilings and rows of hard plastic chairs.
There were two things about the flight back that I really enjoyed. One was the view upon takeoff where we circled over the reef at a relatively low altitude and then right along the main strip of Cancun resorts. The second was that ATA had real American Diet Coke, not that false "Coke Light" stuff.
For some reason, several of the people on our flight from Chicago to Cancun were also on our return trip, including this woman who on both flights managed to sit right in front of me and lay her seat back as far as possible, making it impossible for me to use my laptop as well as glaring at me every time I moved around even a little. Also on our flight was what appeared to be some sort of commune of hippy twenty-somethings returning from an extended stay in Mexico with a fortyish-looking guy, perhaps their leader or guru or keeper of the stash. I was curious to see if customs would grab them, but they appeared to make it through unfettered.
Having a couple of hours to spare in Chicago again, I immediately pulled out my cell phone to check my voicemail after a week of having this feeling of something missing at my hip. After a week gone I had two messages, one of which was left mere minutes after boarding the plane in Chicago originally to leave for Cancun, much to my amusement. Cell phone radiation once more returning to my system, we grabbed dinner at Harry Cary's and then boarded our flight to Des Moines along with a whopping five other passengers. Around midnight, we returned to good ol' bitter cold Iowa.
Much was the same as how we left it. My cat was alive. My pipes had frozen but Dad had thawed them before I got back. No insurrections had occurred at work among our users. I had hundreds of email messages but 80% were spam. Taking a week off away from the day-to-day to visit a wholly exotic, beautiful and relaxing area was well worth it – a vacation for the mind, body and spirit.
Cozumel Con Queso Table of Contents:
Introduction
Day 1: The Journey to Our Mysterious Southern Neighbor
Day 2: The Ocean: Our Big, Wet and Salty Friend
Day 3: Under the Sea, or On Top of It Anyway
Day 4: To the Briny Deep
Day 5: Break On Through to the Other Side
Day 6: Ancient Cultures on the Mainland
Day 7: The Sun Beach
Day 8: The Return of the Wearied Travelers
Tons of Photos |
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
For our last full day in latin paradise, we wanted to hit a "real" beach (aka fully commercial like you envision from watching TV or movies). On our excursion around the island, we had discovered Playa Sol, which offered a full range of food, drink, and activities along with the customary Mexican vendors. So on Sunday morning Mom and Shawn got up early (or at least early for me, normal time for them) and left for the beach at 8 am to insure we'd have a place to sit.
We hadn't realized that the cruise ships usually don't come in on Sunday. In fact, only one ship was at the island all day. And Sunday is also the day most of the locals took off work. When the rest of us arrived at Playa Sol around 10, the parking lot was empty save for the Tracker they had rented and one other car. Luckily, despite the vendors being closed (except for a range of about 20 minutes when the "Party Boat" pulled up to the beach) and only a few people being there, Playa Sol was open.
Playa Sol is designed as a destination beach, where you pay to get in and then stay all day. It cost $8 to get in which included use of kayaks, paddle boats, their pool (yes, a pool at the beach), and even entrance to a small zoo they had on site. For $30 you could also get free drinks; for $38 a buffet as well. Since we didn't plan on having six mixed drinks each, we opted for the standard entry pass.
Right after arriving at the beach and eating some breakfast, we came across this area where you could pay to jump on a trampoline while attached to bungee cords, letting you jump much higher and do flips in mid-air. The kids were really excited by this, and since the beach was pretty much empty and other business was not imminent, the owner, this young Brit with a thick accent, offered to let the boys jump for $10 total rather than each. Sebbie went first, enjoying the jumping but not liking the flips. Nate went next, easily hanging from the bungees due to his small size, flipping a number of times once he caught onto the motion. Of course, since he had been shown up by his younger brother, Sebbie went again, this time doing a number of flips himself – more than Nate had, as he eagerly pointed out. Then, of course, Nate wanted to go one more time, running inside the trampoline area trying to keep out of reach of us. Keith paid the Brit a little extra for giving them so much time jumping, so he told us that if we came back a little later he would let Nate jump again for free. Unfortunately, the slow business drove him away before we could take him up on the offer.
Along the beach were rows and rows of plastic sitting and lounge chairs. For $4 you could also rent an umbrella, which we did as I had so far been successful at not getting fried due to equal parts being careful and wearing lots of SPF 45 brought by Misty and Keith. As we sat on the beach made of finely ground coral and seashells, Francisco, our waiter, would come by so we could get drinks and food. I spent the morning walking along the beach looking for interesting shells and bits of coral, feeling the roll of the ocean, and just sitting in the shade, listening to the sounds of the beach and feeling the cool ocean air.
Shawn brought his snorkel gear, and he unluckily got stung by a jellyfish while out near the edge of the swimming area. Keith spent quite a bit of time swimming with the boys, while Misty did more wading though she did swim some as well. The boys really liked the ocean as well as hoarding shells and making futile attempts at sandcastles that would be inevitably washed up by the waves. Mom laid in her lawn chair reading. It was a very relaxing morning for everyone.
After spending some time on the beach, we decided to check out the Playa Sol zoo. The zoo was small, but it featured animals found around the area, with quite a few very large iguanas, some spider monkeys (luckily opting NOT to throw their feces this day), some South American crocodiles (Crikey!), and a Froot-Loopless toucan along with a couple other miscellaneous animals. What was really funny was that in and around the zoo were also these ceramic statues of more traditional zoo animals like lions, tigers and an elephant. Look, a puma! Wait, nope, it's a statue…
Playa Sol eventually wore its welcome out, as there's only so much laying on the beach one can do (even when it's a destination for the Party Boat – a two-tiered boat of "party people" that goes to various beaches, lets people off for a half hour or so before they get back on and party on to their next stop, their blood alcohol levels rising steadily throughout the day). Misty and Keith suggested we all go to Chen Rio, a beach on the east side of the island that they had visited the day before.
Driving to Chen Rio gave us a good opportunity to revisit the less developed though more beautiful side of the island. We weren't exactly sure where Chen Rio was, and Misty and Keith had gone the opposite direction with the kids as they needed to stop in town to get some more gas. Not having a map or even a t-shirt with a map on it handy, we stopped at a small bar to ask if they knew where Chen Rio was. The place was run-down, possibly lacking electricity, kind of like a Caribbean biker bar without the bikers. Upon my asking, the guy working there - a large Hispanic man with a grizzled beard and a pot belly barely covered by a dirty shirt looking pissed off as I was clearly not stopping at his bar for anything that would lead to money exchanging hands – told me that Chen Rio was the next beach down.
Sure enough, Chen Rio was the next stop, probably a mile or so down the road. One thing we noticed was that much of this side of the island was occupied by local Cozumelians enjoying the beaches on their day off. Chen Rio was especially busy with many families both at the tables along the beach as well as spread out with picnic setups, soccer balls, and snorkel gear.
Chen Rio has a good selection of grilled seafood, and their big thing is to push the seafood combination – a plate with shrimp, lobster tail, and more. On their first visit, Misty and Keith just wanted chips and guacamole, and the server told them that they were only available if they bought the seafood combination plate, though he later caved and brought them what they asked. Keith had been thinking the combination looked good for the past couple days though, so we ordered half of one on this visit, enjoying the tender shrimp and lobster.
Along the eastern shores, you can find many things washed up on the shore by the waves such as bleached conch shells and pieces of brain coral. I had found a few decent sized coral pieces on the prior trip to this side, and this time Shawn wanted to find one. We had stopped at a couple of the beaches, braving the sharp rocks in our search, but had been fruitless this time. Then, at Chen Rio, we happened to find a piece abandoned at the foot of our table. A little after sitting, a woman came by looking around, but since she didn't ask and we couldn't tell for sure, we'll just assume it wasn't her piece…
On the way back to San Miguel, we stopped back at the "Mexican Target" as Shawn wanted to pick up some sunglasses (he had lost his somewhere at Tulum, a modern gift to the Mayan gods). On our last stop there I had spotted an onyx-carved iguana for sale, but the guy running the shop had quoted the ridiculous price of $40. Now that fate, or chance, perhaps even destiny, had returned me to the iguana, I decided to go through the process of negotiating with the guy on price. I always enjoy the challenge of negotiation, whether it's for lowering my credit card interest rate, working a deal for the company, or buying something from a poor Mexican local. After some back and forth, feigned walk-aways, and "I'll be honest with you, Senor, if you'll be honest with me"s, I ended up getting the iguana for $23, a reasonable sum.
Sunday nights in Cozumel bring a weekly festival to the town center, complete with local music and dancing – no doubt to celebrate not having the cruise ship people in town. Wanting to take this reverie in, we traveled downtown after stopping at the villa to clean up. Looking for a nice scenic place to eat our last dinner in Cozumel, we ended up at a place called Acapulco thanks to the persistent calling out of a short man named Jose, along with the promise of a good second-story view of the town center from their balcony and also the added promise of free margaritas for everyone. Jose seemed desperate for the business which, like good Americans abroad, we gladly exploited for our personal gain – though he was tipped well for his great service.
Following a tasty dinner of, surprise surprise, fajitas, we went around the town center, listening to the music, looking in some of the shops which had opened up for the evening populace, and seeking out a churro (translation: fried batter sugar stick) stand where they sold five churros for only $1.50 – what a deal! We then stopped at the square to watch the dancers, which consisted of local salsa dancers smoothly moving to the music and Caucasian dancers spastically twitching to the beat, giving the locals something to laugh at on their day off.
Suddenly, the skies opened up and began pouring rain, causing everyone to run for it, many of whom ended up crowding the platform right along with the band, while others filled the edges and entryways of the local stores. We decided to take the cue and head for our cars to return to the villa. Of course, right as we got back the rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun, but we were ready to go to bed in anticipation of a day of taking in the last of the island and the return home.
Cozumel Con Queso Table of Contents:
Introduction
Day 1: The Journey to Our Mysterious Southern Neighbor
Day 2: The Ocean: Our Big, Wet and Salty Friend
Day 3: Under the Sea, or On Top of It Anyway
Day 4: To the Briny Deep
Day 5: Break On Through to the Other Side
Day 6: Ancient Cultures on the Mainland
Day 7: The Sun Beach
Day 8: The Return of the Wearied Travelers
Tons of Photos |
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
Between Saturday and Sunday, we wanted to both visit the Mayan ruins of Tulum and spend some time at a good beach – something larger and more traditional than those visited so far at Playa Azul and Chankanaab. The fact that Saturday was looking overcast led towards doing the old buildings sooner rather than later; the realization that Tulum was closed on Sunday made a difference as well.
Given the short attention spans of the young when candy is not actively involved, Misty, Keith and the kids decided to stay back in Cozumel and go around the island in their VW Bug. Before leaving for the day, we all got breakfast at the very un-Mexican-sounding Jeannie’s Waffle House. Located on the patio outside of Acuario’s, Jeannie’s had good, well, waffles and a nice atmosphere being right next to the water, complete with a big outdoor tank of live spiny lobsters used for the seafood restaurant.
The kids loved watching the lobsters, as they could literally have reached right down and touched the bug-eyed devils. Unlike the typical image of a lobster we gringos have, the spiny lobster has no large front claws and huge straight antennae. Being a bio geek and doing a little reading, I found that these are actually much more common than the Maine lobster we normally think of, showing the power of the Maine lobster marketers on the brain-cycles of the American population – or perhaps the raw hard-shelled power of the almighty Red Lobster seafood restaurant.
Tulum is a 500 year old set of Mayan ruins located along the coast of the "Mayan Riviera" south of Playa Del Carmen. We took the ferry from Cozumel to Playa Del Carmen, where on the trip we were entertained by a video of both safety instructions ("In the event that the decision is made to abandon ship, floatation devices are found at the front of the cabin.") and commercials for stores in Playa along with Dos Equis beer (which played very similarly to those commercials for Girls Gone Wild). To get the full Mayan experience, we then took the ancient mode of transport known as the public transit bus. The bus ride took about an hour, owed partly to distance and partly to the fact that the bus had stops at many of the resorts south of Playa Del Carmen and at random intervals in the middle of nowhere that somehow inexplicably had locals waiting for a bus despite no indication of how or why they were at this empty point along the road.
Archeological Note: Tulum was a relatively late Mayan settlement, built in the 1500s and 1600s, which is considerably later than the ruins found elsewhere dating back as far as 2000 BC. By this time, the Spanish had already come to the new world, creating disruptions throughout the area, which is reflected in that Tulum has a stone wall structured around its perimeter as a measure of defense. With more than 50 buildings, Tulum served mainly as a place for several temples and for government offices. Its name was originally Zama, meaning dawn, due to its location on the far eastern side of the Yucatan.
Walking among the ruins of Tulum was like something out of a dream. The area is in a tropical setting right out of the movies, with slightly hilling wide-open space leading up to cliffs of jagged rock interspersed with beaches of white sand along the rolling surf of the Caribbean. Interspersed with tall palm trees and bright green jungle foliage lies many ancient structures of deteriorating gray stone, ranging in size from small structures mere feet across to large imposing temples decorated with Mayan sculptures still partially intact despite years of erosion from the wind, sun and sea. People, us included, walk among the buildings in an almost hushed silence, taking in the sound and the sight and the feel of the entire area.
Tulum lies about 1/2 mile off of the highway, with little else in the immediate area save for a ran-down hotel and restaurant, a Subway (the sandwiches, not the underground train), and a few local merchants with the ever-present Mexican blankets for sale ("Only $2 each. No, that one you're looking at is $5, the little prickly one over there is $2.") We were going to take the bus back to Playa, but a taxi driver approached us offering to take us back in his van for only 20 pesos each (approximately $2). We assumed this would be even quicker than the bus, though the taxi also managed to stop several times along the way to pick people up and drop others off.
Returning to Playa Del Carmen, we stopped at Senor Frogs for some chips, salsa and drinks and to look around a bit before heading back over to Cozumel. Unlike Cozumel, the waterfront along Playa is almost entirely beach, with chairs, restaurants, stands and vendors along it. From what I saw in my limited time there, the town came across as somewhat more active than San Miguel in Cozumel, with shops selling the same things found at every store in a hundred mile radius though with possibly even more marijuana-themed t-shirts ("Tokemon" stands out as one, with Pokemon characters high on weed). Playa seems more like a destination for people staying in resorts on the mainland and in Cancun, while Cozumel comes across as more for cruise ship visitors than those from the mainland area.
Getting back to Cozumel around supper-time, we decided to have dinners at Palmera's, who by this point should have given us some sort of frequent-eater discount. I tried their fajitas which while not great were certainly not bad either. A strolling guitarist wandered the restaurant looking for people to pay him to play a song, suggesting Mexican folk classics like La Bamba and Tequila. Meanwhile, Misty and Keith's clan ate at Hard Rock Café, where the kids bought eight Hard Rock buttons for only $.30 each as they were being sold at a steep discount because they were for Hard Rock's anniversary which took place in 2001.
Midway through our trip, we really wanted to do some laundry. I had packed enough clothes to last the eight days (too much clothes, actually, not knowing exactly what we'd be doing), but had found that specific pieces of clothing worked better given the warm weather combined with the touristy atmosphere and repeated beach-going. There was a little laundromat a block from our villa where they'd wash, dry and fold clothes for around thirty-five cents each. They did good work, but looking around the villa, Shawn found that he could use a butter knife to unlock a door in their bathroom to find…a washer and drier! So there we were, illicitly using the owners' washer and drier, only doing so at night and even going so far as to hide our lint (putting it in a bag hidden in the trash) so the maid wouldn't find out. Shh – don't tell anyone. It's our little secret.
Cozumel Con Queso Table of Contents:
Introduction
Day 1: The Journey to Our Mysterious Southern Neighbor
Day 2: The Ocean: Our Big, Wet and Salty Friend
Day 3: Under the Sea, or On Top of It Anyway
Day 4: To the Briny Deep
Day 5: Break On Through to the Other Side
Day 6: Ancient Cultures on the Mainland
Day 7: The Sun Beach
Day 8: The Return of the Wearied Travelers
Tons of Photos |
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
Like much of the Yucatan, Cozumel is mostly jungle where uninhabited. Mom had heard about a Jungle Jeep Tour from a friend who had visited the island on a cruise ship some time before, so after a breakfast at, yet again, Palmera’s, the three of us went looking for a taxi driver who knew where to catch the fabled tour. The first driver looked at us like we were crazy, though that’s not altogether uncommon I imagine, but the second knew what we were asking about. Unfortunately, he told us that the tours were available only to people from the cruise ships, as they were prebooked during passage.
Not to be detoured from seeing Cozumel Au Natural, we called up Pedro and rented a Geo Tracker to cruise around the island in. It arrived at our villa complete with no rear-side windows or interior floor coverings, but it did have 4-wheel drive which proved to be handy after parking on sand and spinning a bit.
Cozumel is about 9 miles across from west to east and about 29 miles long from north to south. San Miguel sits near center of the length of the island on the western coast, with a “highway” (aka a slightly wider road) traversing from San Miguel across the island to the eastern coast and then along the southern half of the island around the southern tip and back north to San Miguel. The western side is fairly calm as the water is that between the island and the Mexican coast. In between the coasts is mainly thick jungle, with the occasional home, shack, shanty and Mexican blanket stand.
The eastern coast faces the open Caribbean with beaches composed of extremely sharp rock eaten away by the water forming tide pools. The ocean is much more active on the eastern side, with strong waves which, when combined with the rocky beaches, makes it the less tourist-friendly area of the island as the idea of being buffeted by waves along a jagged line of rock doesn’t come across as kid-friendly to most. There is the occasional beach, roadside sales stand, and bar on the eastern side (often found together in a sort of economic symbiosis), but it is definitely the more natural side of the island. It’s also the most beautiful, with long stretches of road with thick tropical foliage on one side and stunning blue ocean lined with cresting waves on the other.
As we took the road across the center of the island from San Miguel to the eastern side, we stopped at the Mayan ruins of San Gervasio. Cozumel was inhabited by Mayans from 200 AD until the Spanish conquest, and the site of San Gervasio was known as the sanctuary of the goddess X’chel. Modern day San Gervasio is inhabited by tourists, workers watching the tourists to make sure they don’t climb on the ruins for the photo op, and lots and lots of iguanas. The ruins at San Gervasio are the largest set of Mayan ruins on Cozumel, though compared to the ruins at Tulum or Chichen Itzen, they are a fairly small set, mainly composed of a small pyramid, some stone houses, and a few eroded tombs and temples. Despite their size, the age of the buildings coupled with the peaceful setting makes San Gervasio a worthwhile stop. Plus, you know, all the iguanas.
After San Gervasio, we continued along the center highway to the eastern side, where we found a beach with some shops, one of which had a Target sign, though somehow I doubt its authenticity unless Target Corp is working on breaking into the Yucatan market through a series of roadside stands selling blankets, handcarved figures and hash pipes. Just like at most locations in the US, this so-called Target had another store right across the road calling itself the “Mexican K-Mart.”
Taking the road south along the eastern side of the island, we stopped at a few empty beaches so I could get some pictures of the surf hitting the rocks as well as look for pieces of brain coral, sponge, and other things deposited on the shore by the sea. As these beaches were composed mainly of jagged rock shores, not slipping was important as I really didn’t want to be in the medical care of the Mexican doctors, who, while I’m sure are perfectly capable, don’t elicit the same comfort level that their American counterparts do as judged by their surroundings.
To give a further example of what I mean, on our way out of San Miguel that morning we passed by a local fire station, and Shawn, as a volunteer firefighter, wanted to stop by to say hello and see what a Mexican fire station is like. The personnel were all very friendly, shaking hands and posing for pictures. Midway through our visit, the guy who looked to be in charge mentioned off hand to us that there was a house fire going on. Right at that moment. Yet here they were, sitting there, posing for photos with some Norte Americano tourists. Yeah, I didn’t really want my life put into their hands.
That afternoon after a lunch at Palmera’s, we decided to do some shopping downtown. The job of a street merchant is half retailer and half attention-getter. While not actively making a sale, they sit in front of their stores on a lawn chair using various time-honored street vendor tactics to pull people in the door. “Check it out! Almost free!” is a phrase heard often, as is “Everything one dollar” which is followed by “off” once you walk in the door. “Rolex – almost real!”
While there must be several hundred small merchants in San Miguel, 98% of them carry the exact same merchandise. T-shirts ranging from the standard to the bawdy; carved sculptures; ceramics; Mayan statue replicas; pewter and silver wares; earrings, necklaces and assorted other jewelry; Mexican rugs; and of course, hash pipes by the dozen. The biggest differences from one store to the next are location, the people running the shop, and pricing. Along and near the main street along the ocean, things tend to cost more and prices are less negotiable, mainly due to the stream of cruise people always flowing by. If you don’t buy it, someone probably will, so why negotiate? If you go a little further in, the story changes, with prices dropping to merely overpriced rather than rabidly overpriced and with a little work and the right vendor, you can even get the cost down to almost reasonable. For those of you inspired to go to Cozumel by this little travelogue, I recommend going down to the town center by Palmera’s, heading one block east along the north side of the town square, and then taking the north-south street.
In negotiating the price of a painted ceramic plate, I believe that Mom made an enemy out of one shop owner. The woman was asking for $45 for the plate and Mom had bought a similar one in Puerto Vallarta two years prior for $15 along the beach. The lady asked Mom how much she wanted to spend, and Mom said $20 tops. The lady replied with a defiant no way, so Mom and I started to walk off. “Ok, $35.” Nope. “All right, all right, $30.” We continued to walk off. She ran up to us several stores down. “$25 – final offer.” Sorry, but $20 is all we want to spend, besides who wants to carry a big plate around? Finally, as we were leaving the group of stores, she comes up and says, “$22. My cost is $30, so I’d actually be losing $8.” Oh what a kind shop owner, losing money for us poor travelers. But at this point Mom really didn’t want to go any higher than $20, more for the point of it than anything else I’d venture to say, so we passed.
A couple days later we were by the same area and the woman looked at Mom and said “I remember you…”
For dinner that night I suggested a seafood place called Acuario’s. As we read the menu outside, a server came outside practically begging us to come in, offering to even cook enchiladas for Mom (which she was really in the mood for) and finally even offering us 10% off if we came in right then. It turns out that this particular evening most of the cruise ships had earlier departure from the island, so the restaurant was mostly empty with only us and two other parties. Acuario’s is full of large aquariums which contain freshwater fish ironically enough as Cozumel is on a salt water reef after all. Maybe to those living on a reef, freshwater fish seem as exotic as a reef tank does to us Iowans. Despite the type of aquariums, they managed to keep Sebbie and Nate occupied throughout most of the meal as they watched a large black “shark” catfish swim back and forth. After the meal, we were all entertained by the preparation of bananas flambé that Misty ordered.
While in Mexico, there were three things that Sebastian wanted to get. The first was a conch shell, as he had seen a cart vendor selling them outside of Palmera's each morning. The second was a shell necklace, though he ended up getting one with a shark's tooth instead. The third was a pinky ring. I'm not sure where he got the idea for a pinky ring, maybe he thought it would make him look tough like an old Italian or that it would help get his preschool bling-bling going. We ended up finding a ring for him after dinner at Acuario's, complete with a small scorpion on it for a design. Following in his big brother's footsteps, Nate got one too, but the small ring was still way too big to fit on any of his little fingers! Maybe when he gets older, he, too, will be livin' large.
Cozumel Con Queso Table of Contents:
Introduction
Day 1: The Journey to Our Mysterious Southern Neighbor
Day 2: The Ocean: Our Big, Wet and Salty Friend
Day 3: Under the Sea, or On Top of It Anyway
Day 4: To the Briny Deep
Day 5: Break On Through to the Other Side
Day 6: Ancient Cultures on the Mainland
Day 7: The Sun Beach
Day 8: The Return of the Wearied Travelers
Tons of Photos |
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
Thursday we split up, with Shawn, Keith and myself going to scuba while Mom, Misty and the kids renting a VW Bug and going off on their own. In Mexico, Volkswagen found a haven for their bugs and microvans, and Cozumel is no exception. Bugs, Jeeps and Geo Trackers roam the narrow streets, often full of tourists zipping to and fro among the taxis and mopeds.
Wanting something different, or maybe drawn by the allure of a two dollar breakfast in a sea of ten dollar meals, we went to La Casa Mission for breakfast. Once seated, we were surprised to find that their breakfast menu basically consisted of their lunch/dinner menu (enchiladas, quesadillas, and the like) along with eggs. Bacon? Nada. Potatos? Sorry. Orange juice? Only soda. I ordered a ham and cheese omelet which came with a salsa-type sauce on the side which I found to be a good combination.
I am not usually a big drinker of orange juice, but in Mexico it is hard to pass up as it is fresh squeezed (or else packaged in some magic way to taste exactly like fresh squeezed, though given the packaging I’ve seen to date, I’m guessing the former is more likely). Another drink oddity is the presence of Coca Cola Light rather than Diet Coke. It is packaged as having no calories, but it tastes suspiciously like regular Coke. In fact we did a blind non-scientific taste test of regular Coke versus Coke Light and they could not be differentiated between. Somewhere at Coca-Cola corporate headquarters, someone in charge of the Mexican market is maniacally laughing over their marketing coup. "Those fools – they are buying two different products of the same drink! Mwahaha!"
Anyway…so Shawn and Keith and I went to Papa Hogs for our scuba (translation: self contained underwater breathing apparatus) excursion. Papa Hogs is a relatively small dive shop in Cozumel that came highly recommended by a friend of Shawn’s. It is run by a guy named Mike, a Canadian expatriate who moved to Cozumel for the scenery and presumably the diving who has this look of grizzled perpetual relaxation about him. I suspect the name Papa Hogs comes from his two Harley Davidson motorcycles, but maybe he had an overweight father. I didn’t ask.
Keith and I took a “resort course” while Shawn dove a shipwreck. Having never dived before with the exception of using Shawn’s gear in their old pool, I expected some sort of multi-hour training course before hitting the open sea. Not in Mexico, buddy! Training consisted of Oscar, presumably a certified trainer who was admittedly very good at keeping us out of watery death’s clutches, sitting us on some lawn chairs and giving us some basic instructions for about fifteen to twenty minutes. This is your regulator, this is the air control. Tell me when you have 1000 psi of air. Keep breathing. Then we hit the water.
Diving from the water’s edge is tricky as the waves keep hitting you as you try to stand with the weight of your tank, get your fins on, not hit the boat docked nearby, and keep breathing (with the latter getting my top priority). Once in the water, we practiced breathing with the regulator, changing our buoyancy by taking deeper and shallower breaths, clearing our mask while underwater, and taking the regulator out and back into our mouths all while under the water. You see, if you’re down deep enough and were to have your mask or regulator come out, you *have* to be able to put them back on while under, as surfacing too fast will result in some unpleasantness called the bends where your blood basically boils in your veins.
After five or ten minutes of mastering these skills (with the possible exception of the buoyancy issue which I still have trouble with), we swam out for a ways near the shoreline reef, going down to about 30 feet. When diving, pressure is very noticeable, as it causes quite a bit of pain while you figure out the best way to adjust your inner ear pressure (options include holding your nose and breathing out, wiggling your jaw, and puncturing your ear drum with a sea urchin, though the latter is not recommended for beginners or those who like to hear). After that priorities include breathing, keeping your mask on, and keeping the level of air in your lungs right for buoyancy to keep you at the right level, and then looking around at the undersea flora and fauna.
Have you ever been to an aquarium center or one of those pet stores specializing in high-end saltwater setups? Diving is kind of like that, though with more water, regulating of breathing, and possibility of death, along with the coolness factor of what you see multiplied by several hundred.
Now being experienced pros, Keith and I joined back with Shawn after our initial dive for a dive out on Paradise Reef, this time requiring a boat ride to get to our dive destination rather than just walking into the water. To get from the boat to the water, you put on your gear, mask fins and all, and roll backwards off of the boats edge into the water, just like in the movies. This is surprisingly less disorienting than you’d think, as the tank breaks your fall into the water, the inflated gear keeps you afloat until you release the air, and you’re really focused more on the task of keeping alive (re: breathing) than any disorientation.
Paradise Reef goes 45 feet deep, which means a fair amount of pressure, so keeping equalized was of high importance to me, though I had an easier time of it on this second dive despite the greater depth. Maintaining buoyancy was also high on the list, with too much buoyancy carrying to the surface (meaning the threat of the pain of re-equalization when coming down again) and too little buoyancy keeping you at the very bottom of the reef and possibly on top of some sort of stinging creature.
On this dive we saw a large eel, several fish, and lots of coral. Much to Oscar the Instructor’s frustration, Shawn kept trying to get Keith and me to go over and look at this or that along the reef away from the rest of the group. After about 30 minutes under the water, we surfaced (slowly, remember the blood boiling thing) and crawled back onto the boat, our second excursion in the sea complete.
Once back on the surface and out of the water, breathing is no longer the issue, but that doesn’t mean that all is always well. The increased pressure combined with the greater amount of oxygen taken in by breathing too deeply through the regulator ended up giving me a massive headache. This, along with my ears not repressurizing completely even a couple days later, made for a sort of “diving hangover” feeling. Was it worth it? You bet.
For dinner we ate at La Veranda, a nicely decorated Caribbean restaurant a ways off of the main drag. Most of us ended up switching with someone else as what we ordered and received was not quite what was expected, though for the most part somebody had something that someone else was happy with. Getting our check was another matter.
Things tend to move at a different pace down in Mexico, especially in the restaurants. In the States, servers can seem almost anxious to get you up and out the door once your meal is done, so getting the check is rarely an ordeal. Turn over the table, get a new one in, increase the amount of likely tips in a given amount of time – that’s the game we Americans are used to. In Mexico, patience is the key to keeping from going crazy at a restaurant. The first half of the dining experience is quick; from being seated to ordering to food arriving, all happen within fifteen minutes or so. It’s settling up that takes the most time. Often times we would be sitting there, food eaten, plates even taken away, all the while waiting for the server to come back with the check. “La cuenta por favor.” Inevitably the check would arrive given enough time, but there would be times where the restaurant might have only a handful of other patrons that the check would still take 20 minutes or more to get. La Veranda gave us free Kahlua and Cream shots as we waited for the check, which you would think would actually have been more difficult to prepare than just getting the check itself.
In the Yucatan, finding lizards running around is not uncommon. Geckos crawl along the walls outside at night and iguanas sun themselves on the stone fences during the day. On Thursday evening, I made several tries at catching a gecko to show the kids up close, even going so far as to use a ladder to reach the higher ones. I managed to get one to jump onto Shawn, but it quickly jumped off and scurried out of reach into the prickly vegetation.
Cozumel Con Queso Table of Contents:
Introduction
Day 1: The Journey to Our Mysterious Southern Neighbor
Day 2: The Ocean: Our Big, Wet and Salty Friend
Day 3: Under the Sea, or On Top of It Anyway
Day 4: To the Briny Deep
Day 5: Break On Through to the Other Side
Day 6: Ancient Cultures on the Mainland
Day 7: The Sun Beach
Day 8: The Return of the Wearied Travelers
Tons of Photos |
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
Walking along the main street in San Miguel is an exercise in avoidance. You avoid the sellers standing at the door of each shop and the timeshare salespeople asking if you are looking for something to do. You avoid running into all of the other walker-bys, many from the cruise ships. You avoid being hit by the small cars and scooters racing along the streets at uneven intervals. On occasion you avoid perhaps a dog or a bad smell from the sewer or fish market.
The Cozumelian retail economy depends on three important types of merchandise: trinkets, t-shirts, and jewelry. Walking down the main street along the ocean, you’d think that Cozumel is a major midpoint for mines of silver, emeralds, diamonds and tanzanite. And they’re all “at 20% off”!
No one can say that my family doesn’t stick with something when they like it, so for our second breakfast on the isle of Cozumel, we ate again at Palmera’s, though this time we were not joined by any neighborhood dogs. Feeling tropical, I ordered the “Caribbean Omelet” – an omelet with ham and pineapple.
When Mom and Shawn had last been to Cozumel (shh, don’t tell anybody, but they *were* the cruise ship people at one time), they had gone on a helmet dive and wanted to do so again, so the lot of us took a Suburban taxi to Chankanaab Park. It should be noted that spelling in Cozumel seems to be very much up to the speller, as official signs and maps for Chankanaab have spelled it both as I have as well as without the double-a. Of course, this is also the island where a store sold “sweathers” for $20 and “ice creame” for $3.
The beach at Chankanaab consists mainly of a manmade sand lagoon, which was perfect for Nate and Sebbie to swim in without Misty worrying about a wave pulling them out to sea. Near the beach is a pen when visitors can swim with dolphins for $75 or watch a sea lion show for $5 each. Mom, Shawn, Misty and I opted to bypass the water mammal adventures in lieu of the helmet dive.
Let me take a moment to explain what a helmet dive is exactly. You know how in the old cartoons, they would show divers as people in big metal suits with a round helmet attached to an air hose? Where someone would either inevitably either step on the hose, cutting off the air, or else turn the air up too high causing the suit to inflate before hilarity ensued? A helmet dive is kind of like that, except without the full suit and updated for our modern times.
A group of seven of us went one by one down a ladder into the water, and as we got down to about chest-deep, they put a 70-pound helmet (which felt lighter underwater due to buoyancy) on our shoulders, attached to a floating air pump. Being under the water with the helmet was somewhat akin to being inside a bubble, as air pressure kept the air in the helmet which was open on the bottom with water up to chin level. Before going down they warn you not to bend over as the air would come out, so you walk along the bottom holding onto a rope to keep steady as the currents push you back and forth.
About 20 feet along the rope, they have you let go and take each others hands forming a human chain of people who look like they’re training for a space mission but wearing their swimsuits. We walked along the bottom near a reef, where divers would get things like a coral shrimp and a sea cucumber to pass around the group. As undersea biology doesn’t appeal to everybody, the helmet dive crew quickly move on to performing an undersea magic show, making a live cowry disappear and reappear as a cowry shell with a bit of aquatic slight of hand. They then lead a dance routine, having the people already desperately clinging to their sense of balance do the hokey-pokey and the chicken dance.
Following the helmet dive, we experienced a Mexican miracle…we were offered something for free (tips not included). Mario, a short young man who worked for the helmet dive place, offered to take us out snorkeling, which Shawn, Keith and I took him up on, along with a man known only to us as Senor Steve. Wearing our mask, snorkel and fins, we swam out above the reef for about 30 minutes, seeing a small barracuda, a large parrot fish, and many many types of fish whose names I don’t know despite their being very colorful and likely available at your local salt water aquarium store (such as Fish Plus in Indianola, tell Cindy and Shawn that Jason sent you).
All in all the snorkeling went well with nobody drowning or being stung by anything, though Senor Steve had some early problems and Keith’s mask kept leaking. All of this was just a prelude to the scuba diving we planned for the next day, so following Chankanaab we went to Papa Hog's (translation: father pig's) to schedule a shipwreck dive for Shawn, a diving course for Keith and I, and a reef dive for the three of us.
Tired from the water adventures, we ate dinner at Guido’s which, contrary to what you might think from the name, served Italian food. Good, but a bit pricey at $5 extra to put shrimp on fettuccine alfredo and garlic bread at $3 each. The evening then ended with coconut ice cream (a staple of Mexican ice cream flavors) and a stop at Zermat, the local bakery with the funny name and oh so low prices.
I have slept better (and more) in Cozumel than I have in some time. Maybe it’s the air conditioned cool air along with the hum that accompanies for white noise. Perhaps it’s the firm beds. Possibly it’s the general lack of electromagnetic waves from not carrying a cell phone or using the Internet. Or maybe it’s whatever in the air gives way to a “Mexican minute”, the slow way of life down south, and traditional siestas.
Cozumel Con Queso Table of Contents:
Introduction
Day 1: The Journey to Our Mysterious Southern Neighbor
Day 2: The Ocean: Our Big, Wet and Salty Friend
Day 3: Under the Sea, or On Top of It Anyway
Day 4: To the Briny Deep
Day 5: Break On Through to the Other Side
Day 6: Ancient Cultures on the Mainland
Day 7: The Sun Beach
Day 8: The Return of the Wearied Travelers
Tons of Photos |
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
When vacationing, going out for breakfast is a pretty common occurrence for me, far from my norm of not eating breakfast at all (since breakfast would require less precious sleeping time in the morning). On Tuesday morning, we walked down to the town center of Cozumel’s one city, San Miguel, and found Palmera’s for breakfast. While eating French toast, bacon, and fresh-squeezed orange juice, we were visited by some wandering dogs one of which snuck under our table and set up shop next to Nate and Sebastian, wisely determining the two in our party most likely to drop some food.
San Miguel is an interesting town, full of small shops selling shirts, knickknacks, dive equipment, and lots of jewelry. All along the main street, people stand at the entrance to each store calling out for passers-by to come in. As Cozumel is a common stop for Caribbean cruise ships, the main street along the shore is full of tourists and taxi cabs, with shops advertising big discounts off of marked up merchandise for cruise passengers. To give an example of just how many cruise tourists come to Cozumel, on Wednesday there were 12 ships docked with 24,000 tourists in town from them.
After breakfast we went to San Francisco de Asis, a large Cozumel grocery store. We bought several boxes (yes, boxes) of juice and milk, some fruit, lime Sabritas chips, and some other odds and ends to snack on during our trip. On the way back I stopped at a cybercafe to check my email, which cost a whopping 10 pesos for up to an hour (roughly $1.00). To my chagrin, I could not get the keyboard to make an @, as the shift key made an accent instead. I finally copied and pasted one off of another site – though I resolved to figure the Mexican keyboard out at some point.
It being our first full day in Cozumel, we decided that going to the ocean was high on our to-do list, so we took a cab to Playa Azul (translation: Beach of Azul). Before leaving I applied a liberal amount of sunscreen as I tend to go from pale to sunburnt and then right back to pale. One thing that strikes me about Cozumel is how small the swimable beaches are – mainly because all of the beaches are man-made where people swim. Cozumel is naturally shored by sharp rocks and reef which are poor for swimming unless your feet are made of iron – which would present its own unique set of swimming challenges.
There appear to be two main beers in Cozumel – XX (pronounced Dos Equis, translation: two xs) and Sol. If the two beers were in a battle (much like the Pepsi/Coke Cola Wars of the 80s or maybe The Bud Bowl), Dos Equis would be the current leader if advertising were any clue. I have seen little of Corona by comparison, with the exception of on t-shirts at the tourist shops.
At Playa Azul we swam a little, looked for shells for the kids (mainly fragments washing through the sand – not exactly the conch shell the Sebbie was hoping for), and had Pina Coladas, the ever-present Dos Equis, and chips with guacamole. The water was warm (82 degrees according to a cab driver) and there are much fewer waves than in previous trips to the ocean, which I suspect was due to our being on an island on the far side away from the main Caribbean sea.
While on the beach I met a couple from Arizona but originally from Omaha who asked where we were from because they saw my CrossPaths “Voted Best in Des Moines 2000” t-shirt and wanted to spread Midwestern solidarity. They were in Cozumel on a day trip from Cancun and recommended taking the Atlantis tour submarine. We later found that the submarine is really difficult to take unless you are from a cruise ship or resort as they tend to pre-book most of the cruises.
For dinner we ate at La Mission (translation: The Mission), not to be confused with La Casa Mission the night before. La Mission is located about 1/2 block off of the main strip in San Miguel, which means it costs twice as much as the inland restaurants, playing off of the supply and demand principal with their having the supply of food and the cruise-ship passengers and ourselves having the demand. For dinner I had fajitas again, giving me a comparison between the two Cozumel “Mission” restaurants (winner: La Mission, but not twice the cost better). Then, on the way back to the villa, we found an out of the way local bakery which was the best deal so far, with 3 muffins, two breakfast rolls and a flan costing under $3 US.
Cozumel Con Queso Table of Contents:
Introduction
Day 1: The Journey to Our Mysterious Southern Neighbor
Day 2: The Ocean: Our Big, Wet and Salty Friend
Day 3: Under the Sea, or On Top of It Anyway
Day 4: To the Briny Deep
Day 5: Break On Through to the Other Side
Day 6: Ancient Cultures on the Mainland
Day 7: The Sun Beach
Day 8: The Return of the Wearied Travelers
Tons of Photos |
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
At around 11 in the morning the day before we left for Cozumel, my grandmother called to inquire about her computer I was working on. During this call she asked if I was done packing for my trip yet. Little did she know! While my laptop was nearly packed (my music collection, disc images of SimCity 4, my DVD screener of The Two Towers, and a download of Adaptation I was working on), I had yet to start on lesser-essentials such as clothes. After all, this was a trip to a warmer climate, away from bitter cold Iowa (with our Januarys in the, well, ok 60 degrees at points this year, but still!) to tropical Cozumel. All of those clothes would be clean and easy to pack, while the laptop, now THAT was of real importance. I mean, no Internet, work or cell phone for over a week! And how long could packing REALLY take?
So by 12:30 am I was done packing. And our flight was scheduled out of bustling Des Moines International at 5:45 am, meaning I had to be up by 3:30 am. This brought the inevitable question of whether it would be better to just stay up the rest of the night or get a little bit of sleep – and being a known sleepaholic I opted for the latter, as at least three hours was about two exact sleep cycles and thus less likely to be so tired upon waking.
So at 3:30 my alarm went off, signaling the start of the Cozumel trip. At 3:39 it went off again in response to my hitting the snooze bar. And again at 3:48. 3:57 did it though, as fifteen minutes was plenty of time to get dressed, shave and do the tooth brushing thing.
There is one major positive to flying from a smaller airport like Des Moines – it doesn’t take that long to go through airport security. Since the new federal inspectors have gone in I have always managed to set off the metal detector, despite going to such lengths as not even wearing a belt this time. Before the stricter guidelines, I swear I’d walk through with a watch and a fistful of coins and nothing would happen. Now my zipper seems to make it beep. So a mild search later I was on my way.
Flying with me on ATA was Mom and Shawn; Misty, Keith and the kids took a Northwest flight using Keith’s surplus of frequent flier miles from his traveling consultant days. They left at 8:30 in the morning and beat us into Cancun by about a half-hour. Flying ATA meant taking an ATA Connection flight to their hub at Chicago Midway, which was a turboprop airplane with one row of one seat and another of two. Mom, who has an aversion to flying, though technically to crashing, was not amused by our miniature plane.
We had four hours to kill at Midway, so we ate breakfast, looked at some shops, and then I snuck up to a seat next to a gate with a nearby power outlet so I could charge up the laptop batteries while Shawn and I watched some of The Two Towers to pass the time. In the time we were at Midway, the Misty, Keith and the kids boarded their flight in Des Moines, flew to Minneapolis, and were already on their way to Cancun before our flight took off. Lucky devils. Lucky better-rested devils.
Prior to landing in Cancun, we were given Immigration and Customs forms to fill out a little before landing. Was I bringing over $10,000 in cash into the country? It’s not illegal, but not telling them is. I had $250 and my Wells Fargo Check Card on me, so negative. Did I have any fire arms and/or cartridges? Not that I was aware of. Any live animals, fish, food products of animal or vegetable origin, plants, flowers, fruits; forest, wild products, chemical, pharmaceutical or biological, products of agricultural use; materials, substances or dangerous residuals? I wondered if my bag of Lemonheads would qualify as “product of animal or vegetable origin” but I decided that was unlikely.
We landed in Cancun around 2:45 that afternoon and found Misty, Keith and the kids shortly after. The Cancun airport is very small and is teeming with the most widely seen Mexican pest, the timeshare sales person. “Hey, how are you doeeng? Come over heere!” “Let me show you sometheeng!” “Welcome to Cancun, need some information?” Our flight attendant had warned us that the people posing as information booths were actually timeshares, so we walked by untracked though not unbothered.
Every time I pass through customs, part of me worries that I’ll be caught with something, even though I have nothing questionable on me. It’s that same way as when I go through the security checkpoint. Rationally, I know that I have nothing to worry about – I don’t have a bomb, a gun, or even a nail file with me – but that irrational voice that each of us has in the back our heads still wonders if somehow, someway, an incendiary device or maybe a kilo of cocaine has made its way into my backpack. Walking up to the customs line, I handed my declaration form to the official who gave it a half-glance and asked me to push the button on a sign with both a red and a green light. The green light lit up, allowing me to slip into Mexico unsearched, my fictional illegal items unfound…this time.
From Cancun we took a van to Playa Del Carmen (translation: Beach of Carmen) and then a ferry to Cozumel (translation: Cousin Mel’s – the cousin of the Mayan goddess X’chel who talked her into visiting a local timeshare presentation for the free drinks and believe me, those timeshare salespeople don’t take no for an answer! They pester, cajole, pressure, guilt-trip, yell, finally taking friends and family hostage until you SHUT UP AND BUY THE TIMESHARE – THEY TOOK 10 MINUTES OF THEIR TIME AND GAVE YOU FREE GIFTS AFTER ALL, IT'S THE LEAST YOU CAN DO!!! Sorry…got a bit caught up there). By the time we arrived on the island 12 miles off shore, it was dark (it may be 80 degrees but some parts of winter are universal), but Pedro, a representative from the management company of our villa, was waiting for us.
We stayed at Casa Marcos, a house about 6 long blocks from the waterfront/main street that is owned by a family and ran by a management company while they are gone. While certainly not luxury accommodations, the place was clean (by Mexican vacation standards), spacious, and decorated with many hanging parrots and monkeys made of ceramic, wood and painted metal. Somewhere there is a shop owner who loves the owners of Casa Marcos, as they must have bought their entire inventory, with three parrots minimum to every room.
Pedro had recommended we go to La Casa Mission for dinner as we were in the mood for some good Mexican food (and yes, having Mexican food in Mexico is *not* to be taken for granted in a tourist spot where foods ranging from Italian to Sushi are easy to find). The food at La Casa Mission was a good start to our trip, with freshly made chips, guacamole and hot fajitas.
After dinner we walked home and went to bed soon after, some 20 hours after getting up that morning.
Cozumel Con Queso Table of Contents:
Introduction
Day 1: The Journey to Our Mysterious Southern Neighbor
Day 2: The Ocean: Our Big, Wet and Salty Friend
Day 3: Under the Sea, or On Top of It Anyway
Day 4: To the Briny Deep
Day 5: Break On Through to the Other Side
Day 6: Ancient Cultures on the Mainland
Day 7: The Sun Beach
Day 8: The Return of the Wearied Travelers
Tons of Photos |
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
From January 20th to the 27th I took a family vacation to Cozumel, an island about an hour off of the Mexican Yucatan Mayan Riviera coast. Along with me on the trip was my mother Peggy, Shawn the Stepfather, Misty – my sister, her husband Keith, and her kids Sebastian (aka Sebbie) and Nate (aka Trouble).
All went to Cozumel for different reasons: some went to dive, others to relax on the beach, visit ancient ruins, or just to get away from the grind of everyday. The youngest went with a desire for candy that could never be sated. What we got was an experience that we'll remember always – along with much lighter bank accounts, some sunburn, many fajitas, crazy amounts of photos, and in the end, this account you are about to read.
Enjoy!
- Jason
Cozumel Con Queso Table of Contents:
Introduction
Day 1: The Journey to Our Mysterious Southern Neighbor
Day 2: The Ocean: Our Big, Wet and Salty Friend
Day 3: Under the Sea, or On Top of It Anyway
Day 4: To the Briny Deep
Day 5: Break On Through to the Other Side
Day 6: Ancient Cultures on the Mainland
Day 7: The Sun Beach
Day 8: The Return of the Wearied Travelers
Tons of Photos |
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
