My Journey to Mexico, Guatemala and Belize 2006

Part 1 – The Yucatan, 2006

A Second Helping of Kumquats

By: Gay A. Wright

Journal story and picture album

Paddling the Cosmic Canoe across the Yucatan for the second time

With the Iguana, Monkey, Macaw and Peccary

( For meanings of the animals consult the cosmic canoe myth)

Visiting:

Local life in between places and hotels in the Yucatan;

Archaeological sites and Museums of the Yucatan and Chiapas,

Uxmal, Kabah, Acanceh, Mayapan, Flycatcher Inn B & B, Santa Elena, Ticul,

Campeche, Balamku, Calakmul, Becan, Rio Bec Dreams Jungle Lodge,

Red Hands Site, Dzibanche, Kinichna, Lemones, Chacchoben, Ek Balam,

Genesis Retreat, Valladolid, Pryamide Inn in Piste, Chichen Itza, Yaxuna, Ake,

Izamal, Macan Che B & B in Izamal, Merida Museum of Archaeology,

Palenque and Hotel Xilbalba, Palenque Archaeological site and museum,

Visit to Usumacinta Lake at Catazaja near Palenque

And sights on the way to the Guatemala border at El Ciebo

The Passport

Even before my trip in 2006 began I spent a couple months on the Internet looking for information and booking reservations. I didn’t have any problem with the Mexico part, as I had been there before and was going pretty much the same way as I did two years ago. I wanted to revisit the people I booked lodgings with before and fill in some sites I had missed the first time. It was the Guatemala and Belize part that I had to research intensively to find the most suitable lodgings and ways to tour the archaeological sites. During this search it became more evident that I would have to apply for a passport. The new law stated that everyone travelling had to have a passport by 2009. However I had been told that Guatemala would not let people in with just a driver’s license and birth certificate. When I went to the courthouse to fill out the papers I found I only had 8 weeks to get the papers and it took 4 to 6 weeks for them to process the passport application. I filled them out and gave the checks to the clerk and went home thinking the passport would just pop up in the mail and I would be on my way. Not.!!! The first thing that rubbed me the wrong way was I had to give the clerk my original birth certificate. I also had to provide two pictures of myself for the passport book. I didn’t hear from them until 4 weeks later. Then it was a letter that took 4 days to arrive from Georgia that told me there was a problem with my birth name on my certificate and the name I had been called by and used for 60 years. Say What! Not my last name as I provided the proper papers showing I kept my married name from my divorce over 25 years ago. I was my first name. Just goes to show not to name a child something he will never be called in his whole life. I had one day to scurry to the bank for advice. My banker phoned the passport bureau and after some questions and answers, she wrote me a letter stating she knew me for over 15 years and banked at the bank using my current name. While I was at the bank I purchased cashiers check for 60.00 to expedite the paperwork that would have taken two weeks to do. Considering I only had 10 days left, I wanted to be on the safe side. I also had to have family members fill out forms they sent stating that they had only know me by my current name and not my birth name. Besides that they didn’t like the pictures I sent and I had to rush from the bank to a passport picture place to get new pictures taken. Fortunately, they could process them in an hour and with the pictures, documents and letter in hand I hurried back to the post office and sent the information to the bureau by overnight express. FYI, Overnight means they have two days to delivery it. Over night delivery cost 15.00 and in order to assure I would get it back over night I had to send an over night envelope for them to mail the passport to me. That was another 15.00. That all happened on a Friday. On Tuesday I called the bureau number and asked how far along the passport was in processing. I was told it should be sent out on Wednesday and I should get it on Thursday. On Thursday I called the post office and was told the over night envelope was sitting in Austin because it missed the one and only delivery to my post office by 30 minutes. Arghhh! Over night? Bull patties. On Friday I called the post office, they finally had my envelope waiting for me. Not taking any more chances I went down and picked it up. What a relief. I only had one day left before I was scheduled to leave. So after all this strain and stress of my experience I can pass on to you this advice; apply early at least 3 months, get your pictures done at the passport picture place, be sure you have your birth certificate and current name the same, and if not, get documents to prove it. Keep your blood pressure down and keep from having to pay all the extra costs. By the time I was done it had cost me another one hundred dollars on top of the hundred dollars it cost for the original application.

I had spent two hundred dollars and had not even started on my trip.

The bus trip into Mexico.

My friend Linda took me to Austin and we had breakfast at I Hop before I boarded the bus in Austin, Tex. I had to transfer to another bus in San Antonio to go on to Mc Allen. When I arrived in McAllen my luggage was not on the bus. I had to wait for the next bus from San Antonio to arrive, which was at 9:30 pm, to see if they sent in on that one. Well, thankfully the luggage was there, but that still meant that I missed my reservation on the bus in Reynosa at 7.00 p.m. to go to Villahermosa. The bus people were helpful, if you could call it that, as everyone had different information to give. I was able to catch the last shuttle bus to the border and while the bus waited for 20 minutes, in order to allow people to get their travel visa I was taken to the visa office by a young porter. He wanted to be sure I knew his tip would be 5.00 dollars, as he told me that at least 4 times. I was issued the visa and when I returned to the bus I had to push the button that was located where the bus stopped instead of using the one I did the last time that was at the Reynosa bus station. Green light when the button was pushed, I didn’t have to be inspected, red light I did. I breathed as sign of relief when it came up green. I did tip the porter the five dollars he insisted on for a tip. After that ordeal was over all of us (passengers) continued on the shuttle bus to the Reynosa bus station. When I got off the bus, I asked one of the ADO bus employees on the loading dock where I could buy my ticket to Villarhermosa. Amazingly enough he spoke English. He told me the only bus leaving at that time was one to Veracruz. In fact that was the last bus that night leaving for anywhere and it departed in 5 minutes. There was only one seat left. He helped me buy the ticket and I was able to pay for it in US dollars. (Talk about the Universe watching over me). The ticket lady gave me 6 pesos change and that is what I lived on until I reached Merida two days later. I didn’t have time to buy any pesos as the money exchange house was closed (Sunday) by the time I arrived in McAllen.

The ADO busman told me I could get a connecting bus to Villahermosa when I reached Veracruz. So I got on and settled down for the long trip. In the morning I watched the scenery and as we approached Veracruz. The beach came into view with small houses scattered here and there in the lush bushes. There were also many fancy vacation houses along the oceanfront. We wound our way through the coastal mountains and small villages. When we arrived in Veracruz, after a 14-hour trip, the town was just another crowded, jumbled city like most of the rest in Mexico. The streets were filled with vendors and corner stands serving food. At the station I was able to purchase a ticket to Villahermosa on my credit card with an hour to spare. With my limited peso money, I bought water and juice. I had packed enough to eat in my lunch bag for a three-day trip and sure was glad I did. I sat in the bus station and ate canned ham and crackers. The bus left at 5:30 pm.

When I was on the bus I asked one of the two drivers (driver and alternate) if I would be able to catch my reservation on the bus from Villarhermosa to Merida, which was at 11:30 pm. Another amazing miracle, one driver also spoke English. He said they should arrive in time to catch the bus before it left. He was really nice and brought me up to a seat in the very front of the bus so when we arrived he could get me off first. When we pulled into the station they stopped the bus directly behind the bus leaving for Merida, the driver jumped out and ran around to the Merida bus and asked him to wait. He then took me by the arm and rushed me into the bus depot and helped me buy by ticket. (I was able to use my credit card as I did in Veracruz.) He then rushed me back and loaded my bags and me into the bus to Merida. I gave him a big hug to say thanks. The ADO bus line surely has many customer service oriented people working for them. That was another wonderful miracle. What are the chances of such good Universal timing? I settled back for the long ride to Merida, finally falling asleep as the bus rocked me back and forth in my seat.

Merida to Santa Elena.

So then, when I arrived in Merida on the 31^st, I was on time having made up the four hours I lost in McAllen. Still not having any Mexican money I asked the taxi driver at the bus station where I could change some American dollars and he told me across the street. It was a cafe, but the man changed a twenty for me, that way I could take the taxi to the car rental place downtown. When I arrived, the Alonzo family were there waiting, and speaking English, they rented me another car. I had already rented one from them two years ago and had made reservations with them again over the Internet. There email address is mexicorentacar@hotmail.com . They had the little V.W. bug cosmic canoe waiting. Before I left Merida, I went to the money exchange down the street, bought breakfast at Burger King, which I took across the street and ate in the park, sharing it with the pigeons. I had scrambled eggs and cheese on a croissant. Not too bad for my first meal in Mexico.

About 10:00 a.m. I left Merida in my little cosmic canoe car and started on my journey down to Santa Elena where I was going to stay that night with Kris and San at the Flycatcher Inn.

The site of Acanceh

The first place I wanted to stop was at the small town of Acanceh. It had a temple pyramid in the middle of town with another temple located behind it. I had read about the site on the Internet that was written by the archaeologist that had worked on the site. She had uncovered the stucco masks that were located on the top sections of the temple. There are 6 total, 2 on each side except for the east side, which have been covered by a protective roof.

The caretaker of the site saw me take a picture and ran across the open lot and asked me if I wanted to go in and see. The site is now an official INAH site, so I paid my fee and he took me in through a wrought iron gate in the fence that surrounded the site that he had to unlock. He didn’t speak much English but I could understand between the lines, so to speak, for me to grasp the concept of what he was saying. He took my hand and helped me climb up the seven levels to the area where the masks were located. They were huge. These are the original masks, not reproductions, and have stucco so fine it seems to gleam as if it were highly polished, almost like a ceramic glaze. Some parts of the face were crumbled away, but most of it was still intact to get the picture. He also showed me the other temple behind it that only has a flat top to it, no upper structure. While we were standing there between the temples I turned to look at the trees and I saw an iguana about 4 feet long scurry through the bushes. He was too fast for a picture, but I could see his whole body. He looked like a small dinosaur running like crazy.

The caretaker explained the merging of three architectural styles of different cultures, the ancient people, the conquering Spanish colonial style and the Mayan houses and shops of today all located in the village. The site was nice and I enjoyed his tour. I bid him goodbye and bought some bananas from a vendor’s shop and was on my way again. I almost didn’t make it through the next village as there were no signs pointing the way, but I kept on the straight line the map showed and sure enough made it to Mayapan without much strain on the nerves.

Mayapan

The archaeological site of Mayapan is located on the road to Ticul. I had been there two years before, but while there I noticed they were clearing a bunch of brush from the back and side of the site. Sure enough, they had cleared an area and finished putting together four new buildings, all behind the Caracol. One of them had a round top on it like the observatory. I walked around the area a long time, but then my feet started having sharp pains in them. It must have been too much activity for the first day. I was able to get some really good pictures and they will insert nicely with the ones I took from the last visit. I saw a fox while I was on top of one of the temples as he ran through the buildings below looking for some kind of lunch.

Road to Ticul and Flycatcher Inn in Santa Elena

When I was done looking I continued on the road to Ticul. When I went through the town of Mama I ran into road construction. I thought it wasn’t going to be too bad until the road became narrower the further I went. There were graders pushing down rows of gravel. I thought I was going to have to turn around, but the grader driver motioned me to come ahead, so I squeezed between him and the pile of road dirt on my left, by inches and just barely passed him with his wheel lug nuts fully visible in my face through the passenger side window. Surely not the way they do construction in the US, where they have it all blocked off. From there I encountered oil trucks spreading oil and a compacter rolling it into the road base coming behind him. I had to squeeze by them too. I thought I was the only one doing this, but coming in the other direction were several trucks going so fast, it was like there was no road construction at all. In just a few miles the dirt road gave it up to the new finished section and I entered the town of Ticul in just a few minutes. I think it was harder to get through the streets of Ticul than go past the grader for all the bike taxis and now this year, new motorbikes that covered the streets. Not to mention the cars too.

When I found the church in the square, I could find the road to Santa Elena. Considering I had been there before, I thought it would be easy to find, however the landmarks had changed since two years ago, not to mention the lushness of the surrounding bushes and trees. They have had an extra rainy season this year, so every thing was grown high, and abundantly green. This was a stark contrast to the arid conditions two years ago. After fumbling through the streets, I came upon the shop that makes rotisserie chickens and called out the window to the man that I wanted one. For three dollars, there was my dinner. Around the corner I spotted the ‘farmica’ (drugstore) and bought some liniment for my feet. By that time I was in my socks and I limped into the store. I had a difficult time trying to explain my feet hurt and wanted some ‘limento’. I had to hold up my feet and say ouch. The boots I had been wearing hurt my feet so bad I had shooting pains in the arches and toes. I must have made my point as he sold me some liquid in a small bottle. It smelled of camphor and menthol, so I thought it would do. I finally made it to the Flycatcher Inn about 5:30 p.m. After greeting my hostess Kris and her husband Santiago, I called it an early night. I ate some of my chicken and after I soaked my feet and used the liniment I retired. I really slept pretty well.

A few sites on the Puuc route.

The next morning on the 1^st of November I went to Uxmal, which is about 25k from Santa Elena. I passed through the village of Santa Elena where the hub of traffic clustered in the plaza below the church steps. Most of the traffic was made up of the bike taxis looking for a fare. When I reached Uxmal I could see they had done some really outstanding work and finished portions of the north plaza by the dovecote building, digging out part of lower mounds and had revealed a row of rooms. I took pictures two years ago of a partly buried room that looked like an underground house located by the great temple behind the Governor’s palace. This time the room had been restored and a wall ran from the Turtle house to the Grand Temple. They also had finished the work on the Magicians temple and I was able to get into the courtyard in front of it and take pictures of the buildings bordering the courtyard and the steps up to the Earth Monster doorway at the top. The grounds were meticulously mowed and groomed.

I was able to find the Old Woman’s house, and a few phallic stones by it, see in picture below, but the phallic temple was not to be found in the bushes. It sure seemed to me that they purposely leave part of the site un-mowed to keep out tourists from areas they don’t want disturbed. There were a couple of areas, like the stele platform behind the cemetery group that was also obscured and even though I saw it my last visit, it was hidden this time. There was plenty to see and enough iguanas sitting on rocks and in the bushes to make me happy. I ate lunch in the nice restaurant at the site entrance and finally took my sunburn and mosquito bites back to the Inn when the clouds spat forth a bit of rain about 5 pm. Sun goes down about 6, so I had time to settle in and go to bed at 7.

Kabah and beyond

The following day, November 2, I went to Kabah. The clouds looked dubious with potential rain, but I managed to see the new section next to the arch that was being worked on 2 years ago. It was really hard to tell what they had finished, until I was able to compare with other pictures I took. It looked like they had the walls done up to the roof line on several structures, but the next row of stones that would stick out from the wall line to create the decorative edge of the roof facade were lined up on the ground ready to be placed on top of the walls. They also had a mound dug out enough to see a corner of a colonnaded porch with a connecting room, both having corbelled ceilings. One corner of the building was exposed to show the wall and roof line with the way the stones were set to make the decorative edge.

On the way back along the path to the Arch I found one of the site caretakers picking little red things off a small bush. When I went over to see, he showed me small hot peppers. Now that I knew what the peppers grew on I was able to identify them again later on my trip.

I had seen most of the rest of Kabah, but stopped by the arch again. It is such a spectacular piece of architecture I had to get another picture. As I stepped into the bushes to take it I spotted a huge iguana. Ah, ha. I stopped and looked at him. He was not very eager to run away so I thought I would sneak up on him slowly and see how close I could get. I had my video camera zoomed in on him and stepped cautiously in his direction. He sat there a long time, but when he figured I was close enough he scurried off into the underbrush. I was able to get some good footage of his exit. I continued down the road to see if I could get to Santa Rosa Ztampak. I drove almost to Hopelchen and thought I had lost the road to the bushes. By then the sky was pretty black with clouds, and when I turned around to go back, it started raining. When I reached the little town of Bolenchen, that I had passed through about 30 min before, it had rained so hard the water was still standing on the down hill grade and flooding the road, as the water couldn’t drain off fast enough.

I did find the road that went into the corn fields we took two years ago to find Itzimte, but I already had been there, done that. Besides the bushes were so high you couldn’t even see the mounds of stones from the road. I looked for Chunhunhub, but again, the weeds obscured the driveway, and looked as if it had never been there. So, disappointed, I drove back and stopped at Santa Antonio Zalpak village and was able to get a good picture of village life and the old abandoned hacienda before returning again to Kabah. The temporary break in the clouds darkened again and by the time I reached the doorway of the Codz Poop building the rain came wafting over the trees. I sat in doorway watching the rain engulf the treetops. There was a good view of the grand temple that is still in ruins over the tops of the trees. I watched the water drip off the noses of the Chaac faces and in the end didn’t even have a tissue to offer Chaac to wipe off his nose. I climbed down and with it still sprinkling took a few parting shots and made my way out of the site, back to the Flycatcher Inn in Santa Elena.

Senor Ek, Pickled Peppers and Roger the Potter

The next day the 3^rd I was to see Senor Ek. I met him two years ago and had come down to see him specifically to transcribe his herbal remedies into English to preserve his medical knowledge. Things did not go well. First, the guide I used last time had some dubious dealings with the Shaman Ek and cheated him, so Senor Ek was not happy about that. Considering I was associated with the guide, I was thrown in the same boat as him. He told me some herbal remedies, which I recorded on tape. He showed me plants he picked from his yard that were used for medical uses. He also said all he knew he learned from books he read. Wait a minute, I thought, why am I here if all he knows is already written down? That made the whole quest pointless. I never did understand why my spirit voice told me to do that. Maybe the time of importance had passed in two years and was now a mute point. We only stayed a couple of hours. I had hired San to translate the Spanish from Senor Ek into English. When Kris and San tried to translate it later, it became clear that some of the herbal names were confusing, so I just gave up the project as a complete loss.

It had rained again during the day, so it was not a very productive day. When I went back to Santa Elena I stopped by the new restaurant that was being built by a Canadian lady, Valerie Pickle. I was introduced to her, as she was also a guest of Kris and San. She had journeyed to Mexico in search of a place that brought peace to her heart and found it in Santa Elena. She was of German descent and was a good cook. She decided to open a place to eat on the hill that enters the town on the road to Kabah. I sure wish her the best. She is a little younger than I am and has a little more vim and vigor in her bones than me. Along side of the restaurant building she had a Mayan house built so she could live there. The view is great. I think she is going to call the place the Pickled Pepper.

Roger the Potter

On the fourth of November, I went into Ticul and tried to email everyone with the happenings of my trip when I was cut off the Internet and lost the whole thing. I gave up on that plan and fumbled around the streets again until I finally found the potter, Roger Juarez’s house. I gave his mother, now 92, a picture I took of her two years ago and bought a couple of sauce dishes, two figures, a bowl and a small vase. That made me happy to find him and get some more of his excellent pottery. He makes such good reproductions of the pottery that has been unearthed in many of the Mayan tombs. He has perfected the glaze and ink in his firings that the pottery looks like it was just recovered from a tomb a thousand years ago. He also makes reproductions of the Jaina figurines.

Back at the Flycatcher Inn Santiago gave me the grand tour of property in the back. He has been clearing his acreage for the past two years. He showed me several mounds they discovered that had definite outlines of building corner stones and a number of cenote holes. One he showed me still had a mortared edge and neck hole and he told me the inside of the tank was rounded and all the mortar covering the surface was intact as well. See picture below. It will be really exciting to hear about new discoveries as they are made. They sit so close to the other ancient sites that they are sure some of the mounds they have are part of the suburbs of some of the old communities. Considering the Santa Elena church sits on top of a temple mound, it is pretty clear that another ancient city stood where the village is now located.

Campeche

November 4^th, I bid my fine hosts at Flycatcher Inn a fond adieu and drove to Campeche. I stopped again in the village to buy some bananas from the veggie man set up for business on the street. On the way I found the road to Santa Rosa Ztampak, the turn off that I missed the previous day, by five miles. I hadn’t driven far enough and found it located two miles outside of Hopelchen. But with the threatening rain and the hour, by then 3 pm, the opportunity to visit was lost. Oh, well. It was not to be. Besides, the road looked really muddy. I should have known it was a sign for future encounters on my trip, but after having such a fair weather trip two years ago, it didn’t register that there was trouble ahead.

I arrived in Campeche, about 5, which was much easier to find this time, as nothing was changed. I had reservations for the Hostel Monkey right on the plaza. I had a private room, located on top of the first floor roof section. It had two twin beds and a cold shower. Guess who washed in the sink? The town ladies had food set up in the plaza that evening and I had my favourite, ‘jamon’ and ‘queso’ sandwich followed by a piece of flan for dinner. I walked around the plaza and looked at the other food booths. They didn’t have music in the plaza this time so I went to bed. It was much quieter this time in town and I slept fairly well.

November 5^th, early in the morning I worked on the Internet in the Monkey Hostel. It was pretty tranquil in the morning, with the church bells ringing across the square. I could even hear the priest giving mass in the church and the people singing. The voices carried so clearly over the empty streets and across the plaza. What a refreshing sound for a serene morning. The clouds were starting to build again on the horizon and looked like it would storm again today.

The Monkey Hostel, like most hostels, served breakfast. Here they had corn flakes, toast and an assortment of fresh fruit. To this I added some of the papaya and limes I bought on the road to Campeche. That is worth a sentence or two about the commerce practices in Mexico. All of the villages and towns in Mexico have the speed bumps on the highways entering them to slow traffic. They are called Topes. They should also be called food stops, as each of them are used by local residents that set up a table and umbrella to sell their local wares. On the way through one town I stopped and asked the lady for three limes, or lemons. She must have thought I said three kilos, as she brought me a huge bag the size of medium duffle bag full of limes. She told me 10 pesos. I didn’t have the heart to tell her all I wanted was three, so I took the whole bag. I hauled them all over the Yucatan until I finally had to give them up in Piste, 1500 miles later. So I had limes with tea and made my own Margaritas, which was much cheaper with the one bottle of Tequila I bought for seven dollars. The liquor lasted the whole trip and I even brought home half of the bottle. In any case, the breakfast that morning made up for the stairs I had to climb to get to first floor of the hotel, which would be the second story. It all has to do with the way colonial buildings are constructed.

To interject a second thought, I have to note here that a hostel is a youth hotel.  They are different in each location and they cater to backpackers and youth traveling around the world.  This one was fairly nice, except for my bleak unadorned room. I was able to get my laundry washed, work on the Internet and enjoy the breakfast they served all with the room fee.

Fort Miguel and the pirate ship

I drove down to Fort Miguel that holds the museum where all the Mayan artifacts from Campeche State are exhibited. I was able to video the entire collection of bowls, vases and other art including the unusual Chac mool they have.  From the top of the ramparts where the cannons were posted I could see the sea for miles. The view was as beautiful as it was two years ago. As I was admiring the view, a pirate ship sailed by close to shore. What’s this; a pirate ship? This had to be a joke, but it had the shape of a galleon ship, the sails and everything to make it appear to be the real thing. I certainly was amused and was able to video some footage of it as it sailed past the fort. I found out later that a local tour company owns the ship and makes a pass in front of the fort twice a day. It is a floating lunch or dinner tour of Campeche bay. Now, that is very clever business enterprise. The day was very warm with the clouds building bigger and bigger as I drove back to the hostel along the main avenue along the shoreline.

When I returned, it poured down rain.  I waited until the rain stopped watching the people on the plaza dash for cover from the balcony of the hostel. When the shower was over I walked up the street to find the other museum, but it was closed.  When I walked back it poured once again.  After that storm cloud passed I went out into the plaza where the local ladies were serving food again and bought a ham and cheese sandwich, some potato salad and a piece of cake for the next day’s lunch.  The Chamber of Commerce promotes this on the weekend to acquaint visitors with the local cuisine. While I was in the plaza I spotted a Mayan woman carrying a container on her head. I chased after her and when she went around the corner I was right on her heels. I managed to snap the picture from around the edge of the building of her walking through the fresh puddles of rain while carrying the loaded pan on her head and holding a staff in one hand. It was a jewel of a picture and she never knew I was there.

Compton on the way to Calakmul

In the morning, November 6^th, I went to the bank and changed some dollars for pesos. The line of people was so long I had to wait for 20 minutes. After that errand was done I departed Campeche for the site of Calakmul. That would be a six-hour drive. I started out by going on the new toll road that went to the town of Campoton, or rather it ended there. This is a small village that caters to the summer tourists. It has a lot of fishing and Cocktelerias. These are the same as bike taxis only outfitted with a small bar in front instead of a seat where they served drinks. Mostly, they served margaritas and rum concoctions made with fresh fruit juice. It was a bar on wheels and the village was full of them. Another side note, this time in Mexico it was easier to order ice with any drink because of the more wide spread use of purified ice cubes. What a blessing to those of us who worship the ice goddess. You know who she is, the one holding an ice cube tray in one hand and an ice pick in the other.

I passed through a few villages before reaching Escarcega, which would be my middle point of the trip. One of the villages, Xcabacab, had craftsmen that make the most beautiful carved wooden furniture. I didn’t stop because I couldn’t buy anything, but I did take some pictures from the road. Even then I would not have been able to get to the shops, as the water in the ditches was so high the driveways were flooded. I wasn’t even going to attempt crossing any of the wood planks I saw.

I reached the Calakmul Inn just before dark. This place has been built just off the main highway on the road that goes to the site.  Out in the boonies, but was really nice.  Apparently it has been open and closed a number of times over the seven years it has been there. If you stay be ready to fork out ninety dollars for a nights lodging. It was the most expensive place I stayed the whole trip, but timing and distance were a factor in staying. The next nearest place was another 60 k toward Xpujil. I was able to take some great pictures showing the way it was built.  The restaurant and cabins were built in the Mayan house style.  I had dinner at their fairly good restaurant, but the veggies hadn’t been cooked enough and were hard. The shower in the cabin was tiled in a beautiful tile pattern and sported a hot showerhead that heated the water as it came from the showerhead. It was really clever as so many places have only cold water. The water only reached an overly warm temperature, but at least the pores in my skin didn’t slam shut with the soap trapped inside. They had really large fluffy towels and lovely sheets. I was also impressed with the décor of the bungalow. The walls were painted a light blue wash on the stucco and had small narrow branches attached to the walls on both sides of the bed with leaves painted on the walls. Made it a very natural looking decoration, besides very pretty. The lampshades were made from bark paper, which made the lights cast a lovely warm glow on the room. They had drapes over the window screens that I had to close at night because the night air was cold and clammy from all the rain they had been having. During the night I pulled up the heavy woolen blanket on the bed and wondered how the ancients faired in the stone rooms without ventilation. Surely they must have had ventilation or they would have sweated a lot in the summer and froze during the winter rain.  

The breakfast the next morning, on November 8^th, was a really good American breakfast of eggs, potato patty and bacon, which made up for the veggies the night before.  I spoke to a man who was having breakfast. He was a contractor working on the Inn. He told me a lot about how the construction was done and about the hot water showerhead. He spoke English, which also makes it so much nicer when trying to find out things.

I spent an hour and half driving into the site, 60 k, down the narrow one lane road that twisted and curved through the jungle. I looked at the site for 5 hours dodging the several rain showers. When I took refuge from a shower in one of the temple rooms I found my answer to the ventilation. They have holes in the walls for the fresh air and some T shape windows to keep a good fresh air flow going. They had improved the site of Calakmul with more signs and were still working on several of the temples. One new dig was in a temple where they found some beautiful painted murals of women with jugs. Of course no one could enter the area with all the barbwire strung on posts. I did find an article in National Geographic about the dig and took a photo of the mural from their book. Next to that on the trail were a couple of men working on cementing a tomb. They showed me some pottery pieces that had come out of the temple. They were newly dug and were only shards of some great find. See picture above.

After I was exhausted from all the walking I drove 60 k out, back to the main road, just in time too, as it rained most of the way. When I turned on the main highway I made a quick trip to revisit Balamku before it rained again. There I was able to get some video footage of the stucco mural of the frogs and crocodiles inside the temple. Most of my re-visits were specifically geared to catching things I missed the first time. I was also able to record them on camera for the video movie that complements this journal.

Rio Bec Dreams

I continued another 60 k to my next stop at Rio Bec Dreams, a jungle lodge, close to Xpujil. That is the place I stayed my last trip and is owned by a Canadian couple, Rick and Diane.  They have a lovely spot close to Becan. They have done so much work to make the place inviting and comfortable for their guests. They have a restaurant, gift and bookshop, laundry service, Internet and charming jungleow cabins and bungalows. They can provide tours to any of the local sites and are a valuable source of Archaeological information. They have planted so many lovely flowers and blooming bushes. I mentioned to Rick that his pencil cactus was doing well and he said, ‘Take some, PLEASE!”

The following morning, November 9^th, the owner, Rick, had his Mayan man helper take me out into the back woods of his property to see some of the 60 archaeological mounds located on his land. They are the suburbs of the Becan site and have never been explored.  The Mayan helper showed me about 7 or 8 of them.  He had to hack his way down the path with his machete, as the bushes were closing in again. It was pretty muddy too from the rains.

When we returned to the jungle lodge I went to see the archaeological site of Becan that is about 2 k away and filled in what I missed the first time I visited two years ago.  It is a very beautiful site that had well groomed and trimmed grounds around the temple buildings. They have a great composting toilet. I took pictures but you have to go to the pictures albums on my web site to see them. Considering I took over four thousand pictures it is hard to make a selection to show in this journal. I went on into Xpujil to get some gas and find some fruit from the town vendors. Below is the wall mural painted on the restaurant wall at Rio Bec Dreams showing Becan circa 600 A.D.

The following morning, November 10th the owner, Rick, took me to see a spot about 5 miles down the road that is hardly seen by anyone.  The archaeological site is called Red Hands. He had a hard time finding the secluded path and then we had to climb over a fence to get to it. Only one building mound had a section exposed and showed it had tunneled passageways and some stucco decorations on one corner.  It has never been restored.  I sure felt privileged to have seen it.  Of course, a zillion pictures are forth coming including some more of Rio Bec Dreams Jungle Lodge.

Chetumal

I left Xpujil about noon and arrived in Chetumal about 4:30 p.m. (Approx. 60 K). I had remembered from my first visit how to get to the central section of town and a hotel. Traffic was terrible, must have been rush hour.   

Get this, the room cost 12.00 compared to the hostel for 18.00, the 32.00 for the jungleow I stayed in with Rick and Diane and the 90.00 I spent on the Calakmul Inn.   I found a room at the Hotel Brazilia right across the street from the central market and Museum. The room wasn’t much, but the shower was great with lots of hot water. I took a shower that night and then another in the morning. I hadn’t been able to shower since Calakmul, since Rick was in the middle of renovating the shower house at Rio Bec.

The morning of Nov 10, 2007 I had breakfast at my favorite restaurant, Sergio’s Pizza. They serve a wonderful breakfast as well as many dinner items besides pizza. The décor includes full stained glass windows on both sides of the dining area. From there I went up the street to the Chetumal market and tried to locate the man who spoke English that I talked with two years ago. He wasn’t there, but I did find another man who spoke English well enough to guide me to the Catholic Church three blocks up the street. He said I would find the runners of Our Lady of Guadalupe at that church. When I reached the church and found the office I had a real difficult time trying to communicate with the lady in the office. I had brought some pictures of the boys that ran for Our Lady of Guadalupe. I finally gave her the pictures of the runners I took two years ago hoping I was at the right church and that she would find the boys and give the pictures to them.

On my way out I went next door to a shop I saw when I came in that sold candles and stuff for Catholics. I found a rosary made of rose paste and bought if for a friend. With that in hand I went back to the market. I found some cotton scarves and a couple of blouses. Being it was still early I went to the museum again, but found they had no new additions to their collection. I videoed what I saw and left Chetumal and headed back the way I came to the site of Dzibanche. I know it was backtracking, but it was the timing and distance thing again. The overpasses and highway they were working on two years ago were finished and now was four lanes wide and a pleasure to drive.

Dzibanche and Kinichna

Dzibanche was a very large site with many huge temples. There was a team of Archaeologists from INAH working on a mound. They had the ground sectioned off with cords and pegs and were digging with small spoons, spades and using brushes on the earth. After they filled a bucket they took it to another pile and dumped it out into a screen another person was shifting. As glamorous as the field seems, I could never have the patience to unearth anything so slow. I am more of a trencher and dump truck person. The archaeologist I spoke to told me they were digging where they thought some rooms were located under the mound. So far they had not found anything, but they were only about a foot deep at the time.

I continued walking inside the park and looked at the temples. All of them were built on extremely large platforms that were 12 to 15 feet high. I presumed that was because the surrounding lay of the land was swampy marsh. The temples themselves that sat on the platforms were massive and constructed out of small sandstone type stones. Not like the limestone ones in the Campeche area. A sister site was 2 k away, Kinichna, located in a wooded area surrounded by fields of jalapeno peppers, corn, grapefruit, oranges, bananas and a few other kinds of crops. Lots of the ditches along edge of the road were full of water and sometimes extended out into the fields.

I found only one temple at Kinichna, but it was huge and offered a set of steps up to the top of the platform. Up on top were several more temples. I had plenty of time to explore because for some reason only known to the Gods, it did not rain on this leg of the trip.

Carolina’s Casita

I left in time to reach Bacalar about 5p.m. I was a day ahead of schedule and surprised Carolina by showing up early. She told me she was in the middle of a birthday party so I found a table and sat in her lovely yard and make notes on my trip. There were a couple of other guests, a man and his son to talk to and I spent most of the evening doing that. He was an oil field engineer from Calgary, Canada. I finally went up to the patio and laid down on one of the chaise lounges and fell asleep. Soon Carolina woke me and told me she had made me up a bed. She was very gracious to make me a place to sleep on her futon couch in the entryway, considering I had arrived earlier than she had expected me. I slept fairly well and woke in the morning to bright sunshine coming through the window.

Bacalar

November 11, I went down to Carolina’s dock, which was a new addition to the shoreline of Bacular Lagoon and sat and talked to Carolina and another guest from Utah, who also had a lodge in Mahajual, on the coast south of Tulum. The other guests from Canada came down to swim. After chatting for a while I bid them farewell and went into town to find the lovely Mayan lady at the restaurant. She was no longer there and no one seemed to know anything about her.

They did have a new breakfast/smoothie shop. I had one, but was not very impressed with it. Back out on the highway going toward Tulum, I found the town of Bacalar had made great strides and now sported two gasoline stations and a few quick stop stores. No longer was it necessary to find the man with the barrel of gasoline and the pump hose. See the entry from my first trip on my website for the story of my adventure with that.

The highway itself had been improved and was four lanes wide until the turn off for Mahajual. At that point the new section of the road ended and intersected into three directions. One continued on to Tulum, one went to Mahajual and the other went to Chacchoben.

Chacchoben, Lemones to Valladolid

The one to the left was the road to the site of Chacchoben. It was a newly paved road, as it was one of the sites the tour busses take the tourists from the cruise ships. The site was well presented, clean and well groomed. It had a large gift shop cabana building selling the usual tourist things, but down on the floor were a bunch of woodcarvings. I found a huge 2-foot high, 3 dimensional carved serpent stained with green color, white fangs and red mouth. It was very gorgeous and it kept whispering to me, …“take me home, I am yours.” For a while I kept saying, …”you’re too big, I will never get you in my bag.” By the time I was done touring the site he was waiting on the porch and I gave in and stuffed him in my bag. He made my purse fifty American dollars lighter, but he was well worth it. I never saw anything to equal him in all the woodcarvings I saw at any places later in my trip. He was the only one done in color. The further I journeyed the happier I was that he came home with me. Even though he didn’t see the light of day for another six weeks, he seemed happy too.

The site was very interesting. Outlines of stone buildings and staircases marked the sides along the walkway between the two big temple areas. The first temple had a roof built over a tomb in the side of the temple and I had to wait there out of the rain until the God Chaac once again descended and strolled wetly across the earth on his daily rounds. The second temple at the end of the walkway was built on a tall platform with steps. The whole site had palm trees to making it feel very lush.

I left about 2 pm and looked for the site of Lemones on the way to Felipe Carrillo Puerto. I almost passed by it, just barely catching a sight of the temple out of the corner of my eye as I drove through the small village. I had to back up and pull off into a small driveway. The only temple and last visible building of the site was sandwiched in between the town buildings. I took some pictures of it. Even though it was the only one there, it was fairly large. I could hear music coming from a cantina located behind it. I felt bad for the ancient temple stuck in the middle a dimensional time warp of modern time as a left over of its more glorious reign in the past.

The rain began to descend sending waves on and off again as I drove to Felipe Carrillo Puerto. I didn’t have much of a breakfast and was famished. I stopped for gas and bought an indescribable taco from a lady selling them off a tray. She was going from vehicle to vehicle making sales. I vaguely remember eating it, making a stop at a small store for a coke to help choke it down. I didn’t venture further in search of food as the town really looked dirty to me. As it was, I started out on the road to Tulum and had to stop and ask a lady soldier at a checkpoint for directions. Sure enough, I had to go back to the center circle in town and make a one block turn to get to it. I noticed the road signs are usually only posted in one direction and not the other and if you were going the opposite way you didn’t see them.

It was 147 k to Valladolid so I continued. The road was only two lane but in excellent condition. There were many small villages in between. The further I traveled, the more it rained. I made it by 5 p.m. and as I reached the outskirts of town the rain cleared off. I checked into the El Meson del Marques Hotel on the plaza. I had a reservation because they promised hot water and A/C. I didn’t get either, but was still charged 50.00. They did have a restaurant in the courtyard and an elevator to the 5^th floor where my room was located. The room was beautifully furnished, including a TV and the bath was nicely tiled, but that didn’t make up for the coldwater shower. Putting in one arm or leg at a time still made it cold, but I had to do something, as I didn’t get a shower at Carolina’s. I went down to the courtyard restaurant and ordered dinner. I wasn’t feeling too well, a little taco revenge I guess so I ordered guacamole and some leek soup. The waiter came to the table and made the guacamole salad, scooping the avocado out of its shell with a flourish, mashing it up and adding the limejuice and tomato. That was cool. I also had a margarita. They had a fountain in the center of the courtyard and many lovely art sculptures and wall hangings along the veranda walls. When the soup came it didn’t settle well on my already touchy stomach condition, so I retired to my room early and found I had HBO on the TV in English. Wow. I was so English starved, I think I watched two or three movies making it the latest time I went to bed the whole trip. I had to leave the window and door open to make some ventilation, as the A/C didn’t even work on the fan setting. The night was quiet enough but I was sweaty from the night humidity. I took another shower in the morning, but it was still cold. I bypassed breakfast after I complained to the hotel management but all I got was a shrug of the shoulders, no excuses and no refund. I think that sometimes the people hid behind the excuse of not speaking English, when they understood you very well, but didn’t want to remedy a situation.

Genesis Retreat and EK Balam

The morning of November 12 was a Sunday. I tried to use the Internet but was disappointed again. Two years ago, the Internet was really good. This time the connections were not good at all. I was glad I had already decided not to send pictures as I had a hard time just writing my journal entries. I had to rely on my journal book for notes after I returned home to write the story. After a brief walk among the vendors in the central plaza I continued on my way, driving out of town with my tummy fluttering along the way. It didn’t take long to get to Genesis Retreat, as it is only about 20 K from Valladolid.  I arrived right about lunchtime and Lee, the owner, fixed me the best quesadillas with a side salad of tomatoes and jacima in an oil/ginger salad dressing. That truly was the most outstanding lunch considering my tummy decided to shape up and behave. We chatted a few minutes and she showed me the rebuilding and new things that were added after the hurricane did extensive damage to her place last year. The place looks great, so serene and cool.  I went to the site of Ek Balam again and found they didn’t have any new discoveries. I climbed the temple again and sat on top looking at a storm approach across the sky.  It was a band of blue and black clouds as the picture shows on the left.   I managed to climb back down before it rained and when the drops came I sat in the high priest’s room on the big stone bench on the ground floor and tried to get a feel for what it would be like to be one.  No luck, the spirits were silent.  The rain sprinkles let up enough for me to walk around the back of the temple and snap some shots of that side.  The palapa roof over the stele was blown over by the hurricane and still lay in a heap on the ground.

I walked from there in between the rain drops to the ball court and sat for awhile in the ball player’s room, but that was silent too.  I looked out of the door and watched some birds hopping in the grass looking for bugs. Outside the doorway was a corn-grinding bowl filled with water. It had an empty tequila bottle bobbing up and down in the bowl. What a touch. I finally made my way back to the car as the rain came down harder and drove back to Lee’s place.  When I reached the village I watched the storm clouds part just enough to let in a shaft of sunlight that made the most beautiful rainbow in the sky. Good picture too.

On the corner of the street I could see a tree that was laid over on its’ side. It was one the hurricane uprooted, but the tree still clung to a bit of root and was still alive and growing sideways. The other things that I saw in the village were piles of concrete blocks standing in front of each house. Lee told me the government brought the blocks out to each family to help them rebuild their houses after the hurricane. Funny, lots of them were still unused. I wondered if it was the lack of mortar to put them together, or the lack of desire to improve their living conditions or some other unknown reason that they were still piled up in front of many houses.

It rained most of the night.  I could hear it on the roof and could see the lightning in the distance. Since I retired early, Lee and I finished talking in the morning.  The two cabanas she was working on two years ago were finished.  One has a moon and stars décor and the other is decorated like the inside of a Mayan temple.  I found that really clever.  She made the stones out of styrofoam with glue and quick set plaster to make them look like the real pyramid stones.  The garden also had a new mosaic waterfall with a sun and Toucan perched on a tree branch. Her ideas were a pleasure to see and made me want to integrate them into some ideas for my place.  I was so glad Lee made a comeback from all the damage the hurricane did to her oasis in the Yucatan. She is such a charming hostess and offers the best in hospitality to visitors looking for a tranquil place to spend vacation time. She is resilient and has a great place to show for her efforts. I really applaud her for using her womanpower.

Chichen Itza and the Pyramide Inn in Piste

I had to leave about 9 am in order to make it to Piste and the Pyramide Inn to get my room before I went to Chichen Itza.  After I settled into the room I went to the site. Chichen Itza was really different this time.  They had the Castillo closed to climbers and the room under it with the jaguar throne was also closed. It was rumored a tourist had a heart attack and fell down the steps, but no one would say for sure.

The back of the warrior temple by the small ball court was closed pending some restoration. Besides that, the Nunnery and trail back to Old Chichen was closed because they were restoring a whole new section behind the Nunnery and until it is open everything else is sealed off.  They did, however, have the steps open to the Caracol and I was able to climb up to the platform and get a good look and take pictures of that.   I could only take pictures from the ground level last time.  I walked the whole area starting with the market area and found they had built a small arch like the one in Kabah in a display area by the back gates to the hotel area. I was to find the arch really resembled the arches at Tikal and Xunatunlich as the walls surrounding a stele had small door openings with the bottom of the arch shortened on the bottom; like the one in the picture. They also had a finely constructed Mayan house on display. The paths were more defined and I took more pictures to fill in the areas I missed before.

There were artist vendors everywhere. I managed to find a small, carved agate jaguar. I bought 3 hankies from an old Mayan woman and she let me take her picture. She had to be at least 80 years old. Another vendor had silver objects and I bought a silver pipe and pair of snake earrings. All the vendors would call out to have you buy something, but I had to keep saying, “Tango esta”, (I have this).

I took a break for lunch at the site restaurant and had enchiladas with green sauce. That wasn’t a good as I remembered it, but found the drink of orange, pineapple and limes served with sherbet was wonderful. Renewed again after lunch I finished the rounds of the site. After all the walking I went back to the Inn about 4:30.

The hotel had a great pool, with wonderful landscaped grounds. Lots of orange and lime trees were integrated around the pyramid mound and flowers were blooming everywhere. There were lots of cats, birds in cages and ducks. I chatted with the grounds keeper, who was a man from Maryland, and the owner, Carole, who came from Philadelphia. Carole said her dad built the Inn 50 years ago and all the archaeologists stayed there during all the digs over the years.  She has a gallery of pictures hanging on the walls that would make even the most casual person drool with envy.  

The Inn was built around a pyramid mound next to the pool.   She said it contained four high priests.  It has never been opened.  She said she figured out why she was there. She was to be the guardian of the tomb.   She has to be at least a youthful 60 years. I found her charming.

  The clouds had built up during the day making the sunset on them light up the sky. The wind gusted, but ultimately no rain came. The day had been sweltering. Even the local residents were pulling up their shirts and fanning themselves. Sweat was pouring off of everyone; however the evening was cool and pleasant. After chatting awhile I retired to my room. It was plain, painted yellow over concrete block construction and had a tile floor; however it was clean and boasted a super hot water shower. I befriended one of her cats and she snuggled in bed with me during the night. I made the mistake of not eating dinner and I was starved about 1 a.m. They had the gates locked to the hotel and I couldn’t even get to the car to get my peanut butter. I had to rummage through my lunch bag and munch on plain crackers.

Mayaland Hotel

The next morning, Nov 14^th, I made a beeline to the Mayaland Hotel to eat before I went on the horseback tour to Old Chichen. The morning was real foggy when I got up, but the fog burned off in an hour. I had seen a crew from ABC news set up in tents by the front of the warrior temple the day before. I found out from the crew that was having breakfast at the table next to mine they were suppose to have a live connection on Good Morning America that morning.  I wasn’t even close to a TV, so I missed it. The horseback tour was cancelled due to the construction behind the Nunnery so while I waited for the paperwork to be processed, I walked around the grounds and took pictures. The hotel was built in the 1920’s by a couple trying to develop tourism to the Chichen area. It is a grand place built in the Hacienda style with two stories and wide verandas. They had great stained glass window murals in the dining room and a great view of the Caracol from the front door. Beside that the staff was uniformed in pristine while pants and shirts and wore sandals. They bustled about being courteous and helpful to all the guests.

I sat down at an outdoor table and watched the huge trees shed their leaves while a grounds keeper hurried to sweep them up before they littered the patio. I found a lovely fountain with a statue of a Mayan maiden pouring water from a vase. There were other statues around the grounds. After my paperwork was complete and my money was refunded, I drove back to Chichen Itza to try and find an archaeologist. I got as far as the inside of the doorway to the room behind the service area. That is where they do the statue and pottery sorting and reconstruction. I found out all the men were out in the field.  I was able to get a good look at some of the objects they had sitting around in open view that they were working on. Boy, you should see what they have in there. The room was filled with wonderful things recovered from the exploration digs. We will probably never get to see a good portion of it in a lifetime.  From there, being there was no horseback tour I chose to go to Yaxuna a day early.

Yaxuna in the weeds

Carole, the owner of the Pyramide Inn told me they put a brand new road from Piste to Yaxuna.  So that is where I went, down the road just outside Piste on the 20 K it took to drive to Yaxuna.

I stopped by a small food cafe on the edge of town and ordered a couple of quesadillas and some guacamole to take for lunch. It was pretty funny as the man who made the quacamole asked the older woman making the quesadillas, (I figured this was his mother) if the guacamole tasted ok. She stuck her finger in it and licked it off. Then nodded her head and said it was ok. Thank goodness I wasn’t a fanatic about such things as it really wasn’t too sanitary. She just wiped her hands on her apron and went about her business.

Being I arrived in Yaxuna the opposite direction from the last time I visited, when I reached the site marker on the highway, it did not look the same and I could not see the entrance road into the site.  I went into the village trying to retrace my former route.  Wow, how things had changed.  Except for the place the archaeologists had their bungalows; the weeds had grown up way too high to get a grip on where the new and old roads came together.  I stopped at a corner in the village and was flanked almost immediately by a group of young boys about 10 to 12 years old.  I asked for the ‘pyramides’. After a lot of discussion and striving to communicate I figured out they wanted me to follow them. They rode their bikes to the site entrance and when I arrived there they were pointing to the road. Since two years ago the road was reduced to a two-tire track trail going into the trees.  When I thanked them and parked the car, they followed me.  Soon they lead me way back farther than the site would have been located and showed me some peccaries a man had in cages and a caged deer.  He was also growing gourds.  The boys told me the names of everything and laughed and giggled.  They showed me a cenote hole and some cows tethered in the trees. On the way back, thinking there was nothing left of the site, a little old man appeared out of nowhere and he and the boys had a conversation. He must have told them where the sacbe (ancient road) to Coba was, for as soon as we took another trail, there it was.  

It was really overgrown.  From that point I found the square platform, the round observatory and the small temple that I climbed before.  We all climbed the small temple.  From the top I pointed to the Acropolis and told them ´tumbas´ (Tombs). They knew what I meant and down the temple we went and through a trail lined with more sticker weeds. Lo, and behold, the path went right through middle of the ball court.  The boys stopped at a small statue and told me it was Taloc, the rain god. A short way further and up some steps was the plaza in front of the Acropolis and to the right of it was the palace.  It still had the columns that were built into the walls and wonderful carved stone glyphs that bordered the palace base.  I could see more columns lying in the courtyard. We went up the Acopolis steps and the boys climbed the crumbled walls and announced with great glee, ´tumba´, laughing and giggling some more all the way.  At last! This was great. The tomb of the royal family was just inside some walls next to a trenched area.  This is the part I missed the last time as I arrived at sunset and didn’t have time to explore. (Besides that was the time I met the young Mayan that carried the two-foot long machete. See that story in the 2004 trip on my web site). The top of the tomb mound was sealed with two 3-foot diameter metal doors, but one was missing.  We looked inside the black void and with the aid of a flashlight and saw a square hole where the tomb was located, about 15 feet below the surface.  After that we climbed to the top of the Acropolis and looked over the countryside.  

Whew! The view was great, but the site was so overgrown with weeds and trees it was sad to see what happened from years of neglect. Another couple of years the jungle foliage may swallow it completely and it would be lost to view.

The boys laughed and joked with each other and even with a language barrier I could figure out most of what they meant.  On the way out one of the boys kicked a cow patty and I just had to tell them the joke about what they were called when I was a kid.  “Mother Murphy’s mashed molded muffins”. They were really amused with that and learned to say it after I repeated it several times.  They helped pick stickers out of my pants and even asked what my name was, in English.  They were a delightful group and lots of fun to have along.  When we reached the car I gave each of them 2.00 and they laughed and giggled as they rode away on their bikes. They were by far the highlight of the trip. I managed to change my pants standing on the edge of the road so I could sit in the car without being poked by more stickers and drove back to Piste.

On to Ake and Izamal

The next morning, Nov 15^th, I headed off to Ake and to spend the night in Izamal.  The road crews were still working on highway exits and I couldn’t find one until I almost reached Merida. I was so close to an empty gas tank, I was on reserve and afraid I would run out of gas but managed to float on fumes into the first gas station I found, 50 k down the road. I had to back track back down the country road to Ake. I gave the picture album I made of the pictures I took two years ago to the man at the sisal factory in Ake. He didn’t speak English, but I could tell by his smile he was thrilled with the pictures and pointed to them as he talked to his companions.

I continued to the Macan Che B and B in Izamal.  The place has been there for over twenty years.  Five acres of wonderful plants, flowers and cabanas with gravel paths between them.  It had a swimming pool with a natural stone bottom. It was too chilly to swim, even though the day was muggy. I found it a lovely place, with a restaurant right there that served dinner and Internet for desert.  It gets 99% for a rating, except for a point off for the cold shower.  A couple had just purchased the place several years ago to be near the archaeological doings in the Yucatan. My host was charming and a delight to talk to. This was so superior to the Cantu Hotel from the last trip (which they told me had closed). It rained during the night with lots of thunder and lightning. A storm was really raging off the west. I sat on the porch in a hammock seat and watched awhile. Light rain still continued in the morning.

Back to Merida then bus to Palenque

November 16^th. I drove on to Merida to turn in the car.  Even though the weather report said partly cloudy, it was cooler with a heavy overcast. By the time I arrived in Merida, about 2 pm. this had slowly dissipated into a gray highly overcast day. I went straight to the bus depot and bought my bus ticket to Palenque.  I had to show my visa to purchase the ticket.

 I had time to go to the museum of Archaeology and was able to take pictures of the exhibits.  No flash, but I photographed everything they had.  I had dinner at a restaurant on the plaza and took my camera to the photo place to put the pictures of the boys from Yaxuna on CD.  I wanted to make copies for the 5 boys and send them to the lady at the hotel in Piste and see if she would take them to the village and give them to the boys. I wrote the boys a letter telling them to take care of the site at Yaxuna, for it was their heritage and if they dressed up the trails and chopped the weeds they could show it to visitors. I am sure she would do it, as I told her about my adventure with them.  

I said goodbye to the Alvaro family I rented the car from. They were so nice, telling me they would mail the letter to Piste. The Senora’s daughter was very kind to offer me a ride to the bus station. I had to wait about 2 hours before the bus left for Palenque. I sat next to a man at the baggage check in counter and found he spoke English. I found him interesting and also concluded that all Mexican people that speak English do it with pride and jump at the chance to show off their knowledge of our language. It is humorous to find they don’t always get the verbs and adjectives put in the proper place, but who cares. It is always enjoyable to speak with someone I can understand.

When I checked in my baggage I noticed that most of the major bus depots now weigh baggage and charge extra for bags over the allotted weight. This time it cost me 5.00. The bus left at 10 pm, and after a restless time bouncing around the bus seat I merged from an uneasy sleep to watch the landscape when the sun rose. Before we arrived in Palenque it had been raining, but by the time I got off the bus at 6 a.m. it was partly cloudy.

November 17, was a not a very good day. I was tired and after walking uptown to have my laundry done I came back to the hotel and just rested. The street in front of the hotel was being worked on. They had sidewalks built and were in the middle of adding road fill to the street and leveling it out with graders to make it ready to have bricks laid for pavement. It should be really pretty when done, but right at that time it was terribly muddy. That would be the key word for the rest of the trip. Muddy. I should have known it was coming, but I was keeping the idea of a pleasant trip alive. I watched TV as it showed English speaking movies.

When I spoke to Marco Morales, the owner of Hotel Xilbalba, he told me some distressing news. He said there had been an incident at the Mexico/ Guatemala border that caused the Federalies to close the border crossing. Apparently the Indians living close to Bonampak site wanted to evict some squatters living on their land. When the squatters would not leave, the Indians shot them. The Federalies moved in to contain the situation, closing the border and the road to the sites to all tourist traffic. This Indian unrest and killings were very distressing to the Mexican government as they had to pay to bury the men and compensate the families besides finding them another place to live. To compound the situation Monday was the 20^th of November, the 96^th anniversary of the Mexican Revolution and no one would be on duty. It’s like the Fourth of July holiday at home. It seemed I arrived just in time for a double dose of unexpected turn of unfortunate events. Marco told me he would be able to take me to the border crossing on the Northern edge of the Guatemala border. The border entry at El Ceibo is located along the San Pedro River and he could put me on a riverboat to take me to El Naranjo to catch a bus to Flores. With that plan for my exit from Mexico arranged, I went ahead and enjoyed the next few days in Palenque.

Later in the afternoon, I walked back up town and picked up my laundry. I passed the statue of Pakal in the center traffic circle. I didn’t take a picture last time, as he had to share his space with a plastic ‘Winnie the Pooh’ Christmas decoration. The stores were already showing Christmas decorations. There seemed to be mainly shoe stores, drug stores, music CD stores, veggie stands and meat markets. I bought some fresh fruit in a cup from a corner vendor. After I walked back I was still tired, so I just lay down and rested, watching more TV. In order to eat I had to walk across the street to the restaurant in the hotel there as Marco had his hotel restaurant closed for the street repair. I ordered quesadillas to go. They were by far the worst ones I had the whole trip. The cheese congealed into a hard glutinous mass that was so gummy it couldn’t be eaten. I ate the veggies and threw the rest away. I ate the jicama from my fruit bowl with the beans they served with the quesadillas. I then broke out the peanut butter and crackers to fill up the gap. I was still woozy, but my blood pressure registered ok. I slept fairly well that night even though the bed was hard. (Of course, all the beds were hard after sleeping in my waterbed). In the morning November 18^th, the sky was overcast and cooler. In fact I put an over blouse over the tank top I wore. After a nice chat with Marco, I enjoyed a good breakfast across the street, eggs, toast, fruit and beans. I felt better and was ready to tackle the trip to the site of Palenque.

Picture on left is of Hotel Xilbalba being remodeled along with the street taken from the restaurant across the street.

I waited on the corner by the traffic circle for a combi to come by. It only took five minutes and I was hopping aboard and empty one. We picked up lots of passengers along the way and had a full load by the time we reached the entrance to the site. After buying a glass of my favorite fresh squeezed orange juice from the vendor I browsed the craft shops to see what they had. There were new kinds of things including fossil stone carvings. I bought a small snake carved out of the fossil stone. You can see the seashells embedded in it from prehistoric times. They had new subject matter for the molded plaques and I bought one of the vision-serpent and one of King Pacal and his mother.

I walked up the entrance steps that lead to the area where the rabbit temple was located, finding many improvements to the walkways and large garden under the trees in the area in front of it. There were more stone seats available for tired tourists. The walkways were covered with pea gravel to keep the mud from making the trails impassable from all the traffic. With all the improvements I still was not able to see the temples I came to see in the group behind the foliated temple. That was 18, 19, 20 and 21. Apparently they were still investigating the area as it was roped off. I did get to see one new one, 17 which had a collapsed roof.

I made my way out to the cross complex and lingered in the plaza in front of the Temple of the Sun as the monkeys started to howl. I moved across the courtyard to temple 15 to get their sounds on the video footage. See the video movie I have listed on my web site. It had started to mist again. With visions of my disaster from the last trip fresh in my mind, I stepped lightly on the wet stones and gingerly climbed up the palace steps. I went through the palace again learning from a passing guide that the room in the courtyard by the underground rooms held the royal bedroom and toilet stone. See picture to the left. There was a carved half moon slot in the side of the stone seat that would have made a direct drop into a water drain below the floor. You could see the drain, as a stone was removed to get a view of it. I missed that last time. They had some of the glyphs redone on the staircase in the small courtyards.

Parts of the hallways were closed to traffic and all you could do is look through some screen stretched across the doorways. I walked through the underground passageways and went across the lawn to Temple Ten and to the Counts Temple (named after Count Waldek who did archaeological work the 19^th century).

After that, I walked to the Norte group and the ball court. Behind the Norte group was the staircase that lead down to the level below it that the residence areas of group 1 and 2 were located. I found the tree that grabbed me on my last visit and the wall I fell off. Since it had started to mist more heavily, I looked at it from a distance not wanting to repeat history. I climbed down the steps to the path that leads to the suspension bridge and the falls in the Queens bath. I used up the last of my video footage, enjoying the view of the falls that were as spectacular as they were the last time I saw them. From the falls the path and steps that went down to the main road didn’t seem to be as many or as steep as I remembered when my knee was gashed from my fall. I was able to put a closure on that incident and heal the emotional wounds from two years ago.

I went to the museum and photographed all the exhibits. (No flash). I was able to get great pictures even without a flash. When I was done I took a combi back to the top of the hill where the vendors were located at the entrance and bought the items I looked at when I came in that morning. That saved me from packing them around the site. When I was done shopping I caught another combi back to the traffic circle in town. On the way the combi picked up a couple from Canada that I had seen earlier in the day. We walked across the road and down the street to the La Canada area hotels, where we were staying.

We came across a group of people out in the street looking up into the trees. Of course we had to look too. We saw a howler monkey jumping from branch to branch. He was only about 20 feet off the ground. When he jumped in one tree he scared a huge green iguana out of the tree that hit the ground running. Like a streak of lightning he crossed the parking lot and hid under a pile of lumber. That was so funny. The monkey kept swinging through the trees and soon was out of sight. I took some pictures but the monkey only looked like black blob in the trees. That evening the monkeys started howling a full chorus that lasted for hours. I was able to get my tape recorder out and get lots of footage of their sounds. Striving to make a wav. file for that one.

I ate dinner across the street again and had two margaritas with it. One was free with a coupon I received at breakfast. I had enough activity that day to make me sleep fairly well.

Outing on the Lake

I woke on Sunday morning of November 19, to an overcast sky that turned into light rain. I was sure glad I went to the site the previous day. The monkeys started howling again so I got out the binoculars and found them in the trees just beyond the hotel. There were two of them. They looked like they were having a morning-social-getting-it-on session to me. They wrestled and shook branches awhile then climbed into different trees. It was over in about ten minutes. After breakfast it didn’t take long for the clouds to clear to a partly cloudy day. Marco took me to a lake by the town of Catazaja, close by Palenque. The Usumacinta River has a dam on the river and it backed up to make the lake. It was really boggy in spots along the shore and had water plants bobbing along the surface of the water. They had markers made of plastic bottles to indicate the areas where it was too shallow to take a boat.

When we reached the dock area by the town facing the lake we found a boatman bringing some people in from a ride. Marco talked to him and he said there were no regular scheduled rides with boats. Marco hired him for a 3 to 4 hour ride with a lunch break at a village across the lake. (40.00). We waited until the man went to fill his gas cans for his outboard motor then we were off for a cruise of the lake. He took us close to the shore so he could show us monkeys and birds. Sitting on the trees sunning themselves were the hugest 3-foot long iguanas I have ever seen. They were glowing in metallic orange and silver colors with some blue on their bodies. Their tails were banded in black and tan. They had large spines on their backs and huge droopy neck skin. They were spectacular. We saw one in almost every tree. The females were about 2 foot long and green. I was told the males are only this color during mating season, the rest of the year they are green. I was impressed, but I don’t think the females we saw could have cared in the least by the show of the male’s color. Some of the tree stumps standing in lake water were places the birds used to perch on. There were lots of Great Blue Herons, smaller white herons and plenty of egrets. Ducks and alligators shared the water. Groups of the scrubby trees all grew out of the shallow water. We stopped at a small café across the lake in a small village and had lunch. I ate the leftovers from dinner the night before and had some fried potato chips to go with it. They were extremely crunchy like potato chips, but a little greasy. After lunch and a chat with the men sitting around the café tables we started back. The ladies all stayed in the kitchen and the men sat and told each other tall tales. The town was filled with chickens, ducks, turkeys and several pigs running around with loose broken tethers around their necks. The weather had been perfect with the sun shining and warm. The water was cool and blue reflecting the beautiful sky. When we reached the dock however, the clouds had started to close in and turn dark on the horizon. Marco talked for a while to a lady that was doing advertising for the resort town and I watched some ducks in a pen. I felt so bad for them I walked across to the dock area and picked up a couple of huge plants that had moored themselves on the concrete dock. I carried them across the street and threw them into the pen. Wow. The ducks devoured them in two minutes. I went back and got a couple more plants and gave them to the ducks. People were watching like I was crazy. I asked Marco to tell the lady to give the ducks some of the plants to feed them each day. The plants were free and made good food. He said her reply was; “They are not my ducks.” I found that sad as it seemed the Mexican people weren’t interested in feeding animals, whether dogs, cats, chickens, turkeys or ducks whether they ran wild or belonged to someone else. They were always amazed when I stopped and feed them when I was on the road. We walked down the street to the taxi stand and found a taxi that would take us back to Palenque.

While I was packing my bags to leave the next morning it started to rain again. I walked across the street to get some fruit for the trip the next day. I ran into the Canadian couple I met at the site and rode with on the combi back to town. They were a hoot. The man was an architect from Vancouver B. C. He was very knowledgeable about the sites and when he found out how much I knew, he said he was surprised, as he thought I was blowing smoke. I found that pretty funny. We talked a long time and straightened out the condition of the world condition. He and his wife bought me a glass of wine. We finally parted company and I went to bed. It was going to be an early day in the morning, as we had to leave at seven to get to the border by noon. The trip to the border cost me 150.00 American for my private escort.

The way to El Ceibo on the Guatemala border

November 20, Monday, the 96^th anniversary of the Mexican Revolution we started out for El Ciebo. The road was really good the whole way and the weather pleasant enough. It was cool early, then warmed up to be nice. The clouds rode the mountain peaks a good portion of the way. We passed through cleared forestland that was now all cow meadows. Some were planted fields, but mostly cows. We skirted the mountain range with small pointed hills making it look like a spiny backbone. We passed through a town, which I think was Arena de Hidalgo that had a railroad station. It was left over from the time railroads were running in Mexico. We passed through many villages. One located by the river had men standing on the side of the road showing off the fish they caught looking to make a sale.

The next town of any size was Teosique de Pino Suarez. We were just in time to see a celebration parade for the holiday assemble. There were boys in white pants and shirts with large sombreros, dressed like Zapata or Poncho Villa. They had wooden swords and were in the street goofing off dueling with each other. The young ladies were dressed in brightly colored dresses with long flowing skirts. They carried flowers and baskets. They had their hair braided with ribbons. There were bands doing their last minute practice on the drums and men in huge sombreros sitting on the backs of nervous horses. The town sports team cheerleaders and band were dressed in the school colors standing around where the crowds of people gathered on the edge of the street. The police had streets blocked off for the parade route. We had to skirt around a few blocks until we found the connection to the road going to El Ciebo.

From that point it was only 55 k to the border. I forgot to put the mileage down when we started, but it was about 200 miles for the trip. We stopped in La Palma to look at a new river park just being finished. They had a real nice facility that they were in the final stages of building. The park was due to open in a couple of months. It will offer river cruises along the San Pedro River. The river merges into the Usumacinta River as it meets up in Mexico before it flows into Campeche Bay. We had to cross a huge metal bridge to continue our trip. The river was very wide and swift. After the village of Benito Juarez, the map only shows a cow path, but in reality it is paved all the way to the border.

Now the border, on the other hand was a nightmare. What a shock! Mexico in places was rustic and poor, but Guatemala was down right primitive.

Crossing the line

A new gigantic concrete building was being built on the Mexico side to house the immigration and inspection personal. Until that was finished we had to park Marcos truck in front of a pair of gates, one on the Mexico side and one on the Guatemala side. In order to go from the gate on the Mexico side to the gate on the Guatemala side we had to be taken in a motorized bike taxi. Luggage and all we piled into that, with just enough headroom to peek over the drivers shoulder. Between the gates was a cement stone marker that said Guatemala on it. The ride amounted to about 300 feet total. For that part of the journey the cost was 15 pesos. After we walked through the gate we had to hire a pick up truck to take us to the boat dock. Even though the road was paved it was cracked and broken and the whole road heaved up and down over the terrain like cobblestones thrown in a pile. The pick-up truck we hired piled all my bags on the top luggage rack and we sat in the front seat with the driver.

We had to snake our way down this makeshift concrete path between tents that were set up on each side of it. Merchants who were selling every sort of merchandise you could imagine filled the tents. It looked like the worse flea market you could possibly think up. The goods were stacked in piles everywhere. People hung on the edges of the tents making the passage treacherous. Dogs lay in the path of cars and just barely got up in time to avoid being run over. There were food vendors cooking in some of the tents and the smoke curled skyward out of the tents. We couldn’t go over two miles an hour, just creeping over the loose rocks and mud puddles. At one point a huge dump truck came from the other direction. We had to squeeze close to the right side almost into the tent line as the dump truck did the same on his side. He just barely had space to pass us. I was really helping suck in the fenders on this one. This border crossing was a duty free market and people would flock there to buy supplies. It was terrible and depressing. It was muddy and crowded with a wave of humanity that didn’t know there were better or at least different things in the world. At the edge of the tent row we turned on a mud track of a road that made its way to the riverbank where the boats were docked.

About a mile or so of this axle deep mud we slithered to at stop at the shore. On the way we passed a truck full of luggage and walking behind it a group of tourists waded up to their knees in thick, slippery, gummy gray mud. Boy was I glad Marco and I were the only passengers besides the driver in the truck. I would have never made it if I had to walk.

At the shore Marco spoke to a group of men by the boats. He arranged for one of the boatmen to take me in his boat up river to the town of El Naranjo and put me on the bus to Flores. I didn’t mention that the road stopped here and the river was the only transportation to the next town. During the river trip I would have to stop at the immigration dock and have my passport stamped with my entry into Guatemala. I managed to get my luggage into the boat with some help and said farewell to Marco. I was sad to leave him, as from that point on I was on my own and would have to fend for myself. It was kind of scary not being able to speak the language. Without his help, his communication in Spanish and private escort I would have never made it to the border and been able to continue on with my trip. He is such a kind person that I am pleased to call a friend. This was truly a trying but enlightening experience and I certainly was glad I had someone as nice as Marco to depend on.

The journal story continues in Volume Two, Guatemala.