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©2005 Jason Cross
All Rights Reserved
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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 |
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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 |
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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 |
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