This one is loooong. Fortunately, the tune catcher picked up some chilling tracks from his travels and mixed them in with some old favourites. Stick em on, sit back and relax.
Mexico, a chaotic, loud, colourful country that overflows with vitality. Full of friendly, interesting, resourceful people from many walks of life. People who all share a love for these lands and the rich tapestry of histories, cultures and traditions that have been woven here over timelines that reach deep into the past. It has been a pleasure and a joy to reside in this country for the past six months. To experience and connect with this tapestry, to recognise and appreciate its influence on our shared story of humanity.
Mexico, like much of Latin America, is a place largely omitted from the Western European consciousness. We have shamefully shallow narratives of these places. Lazily accepting the mainstream, US driven narratives of lazy Mexicans and a lawless, unsafe land dominated by narco traffickers.
Instead Kathy and I discovered a deep and richly textured country blessed with a delightful array of geography and ecosystems. Warm, welcoming people who worked tirelessly at all hours of the day and were quick to smile and greet us with a "buenas dias/tardes/noches". Mexicans love a beer, the larger the better. They love music, this louder the better. They love Mexico, whatever that means to them.
Mexico is not without its problems: inequality, sexism, racism, poverty, corruption to name a few. It has the highest rates of femicide in the world and indigenous groups still struggle for the recognition and protection of their lands, their ways of life and their human rights. The legacies of colonialism continue to poison the present and constrain the possibilities of too many futures. However, Mexico is also a place of fierce resistance, autonomy and a desire for self-determination. Mexicans love a protest and there are regions around the country dissatisfied with the Mexian government who have rejected their authority while retaining a strong Mexican identity. In these places they autonomously manage everything from water to education to law and order.
Mexico is a place rooted in community. The marketplace, town plaza and roadside taco stand all work to bring people into relation with one another, fostering a sense of community from which an informal support network emerges.
Notably, it is Mexicans that are most likely to buy a trinket from a passing vendor or give money to a musician, who, in stark contrast to the US, are welcomed in by cafes and restaurants. Mexico has a tiny fraction of the homelessness we witnessed throughout the cities of the US's West Coast. It seems to me that capitalism has not yet managed to atomise the country into a collection of self interested individuals. Although its long tendrils of money and power are by no means impotent here, the state of Quintana Roo and the Baja Peninsula provides plenty of evidence of that.
The Mexican identity somehow manages to bring together a intriguing and conflicting set of histories and a dizzying array of cultures, traditions and peoples that stretch deep into the past. Like the huge Olmec heads dated to at least 900BC.
Despite being conquered by the Spanish and the clear presence of Spain's cultural influence, not least in the grand churches and colonial architecture throughout Mexico, there is a clear sense that these influences overlayed rather than displaced the existing cultural traditions.
The people integrated the Spanish influence into their world view to produce a new whole from which the Mexican national identity eventually emerged. An identity that is deeply catholic, and yet it is a Mexican Catholicism (complete with its own virgin, the Virgin of Guadalupe) that makes room for the older beliefs.
The Mayan people even have their own cross, which dates back to before the birth and crucifixion of Christ.
Mexico is a nation with 68 national languages, including Nahuatl (spoken by the Aztecs) and multiple Maya languages. The country is a long way away from the Nueva España imagined by Spain. No doubt despite Spain's best efforts, they were unable to tame these lands. These deeper cultural roots remain a source of pride for many Mexicans today, most obviously in states like Oaxaca and Chiapas.
That the prehispanic cultures continue to exert such a pull on the present is not surprising once you start to understand Mesoamerica as one of the cradles of humanity. A melting pot of different peoples, societies and polities that waxed and waned across different periods of history. Each coexisting in a state of dynamic tension and benefiting from the intellectual, economic and competitive interaction amongst themselves that this entailed.
Mesoamerican cultures developed multiple unique writing systems, created precise calendars such that we know to the day when certain events occurred, they invented the number 0 and made remarkable astronomical discoveries long before Copernicus.
They built cities and embarked on ambitious public infrastructure projects from water management, to agriculture to the vast religious complexes. It is from Mesoamerica that many of the worlds food sources originate such as corn, tomato (imagine Italy without tomatoes!) and squash. The development of corn in particular being a likely first example of genetic engineering in the world and certainly being a key factor in the proliferation of complex social structures in this part of the world. Corn is integral to the Mayan story of creation and still today it remains revered in these parts of the world.
Mexico is littered with remnants of these societies, such that you are never far from an ancient temple, city or site of historic interest and never quite sure if under that hill in the distance there might be yet more to be discovered.
Mexico's museums, both public and private, are stuffed with intricate pottery, art and religious artifacts reflecting the diversity of aesthetics from the cultures who produced them.
There is an inescapable sense of awe and wonder as you wander these sites or explore these museums. From the mysteries of Teotihuacan, a civilisation at the centre of trade routes stretched throughout the Americas that prospered in the Mexico City basin 1000 years before the Aztecs and whose language we are still unable to decipher.
To the strange almost engine-like concentric circles of Guachimontones in Jalisco.
Or great pyramid of Cholula, the largest pyramid by volume in the world built in the shadow of two volcanoes. The Spanish naturally built a church on top.
And of course the impressive remnants of Mayan city states like Calakmul found throughout the Yucatan peninsula and deep into jungles of Chiapas and neighbouring Guatemala.
Anyway, enough of the past. Let me tell you about our time here.
During our six months here, we managed to experience 12 of the 31 states of Mexico and Mexico City which being a metropolis of over 20 million people falls under its own jurisdiction with its own constitution. Each state has its own vibe and feeling, no doubt in part due its geographic endowment, proximity to the US and the histories of the peoples who have lived there since long before idea of Mexico was concieved.
First stop was the strange US-Mexican hybrid that is the Baja peninsula, albeit we only saw Tijuana and the US Benidorm that is Cabo San Lucas. Not the best place we have been, and not really representative of Mexico. Although I did get in some diving, completing my Advanced PADI certificate which was delightful underwater adventure. We also picked up out temporary residency cards with minimal hassle. Can't complain.
Then it was on to the sprawling metropolis that is Mexico City. Horizontal vertigo indeed, thanks for the book Esther. An incredible, leafy green city, that we came back to again and again. Each time, staying in a different place and providing fresh perspectives on the city.
I would happily live here, despite the pollution and traffic which at times were a pain.
We first spent a month in the delightful suburb of Coyocan, a quintessential Mexican town that has been swallowed up by the spawl of the city. A lovely, tranquil little spot that eased us into our Mexico adventure, although it was a bit far from the action.
After that we stayed around Roma, Condessa and Juarez, fancier parts of town that have unfortunately, but understandably, been overwhelmed by expats, airbnbs and digital nomads. A trend that unfortunately we were complicit in. We also had a decent stay in the historical center, whose buildings, such as the cathedral, have been layered on top of and built out of the stones of the old Aztec capital.
Mexico City is rich in museums, culture and food. It is a city alive with people and full of noises. From the explosions of firecrackers that shake the room that are crucial to any celebration whether personal, religious or national. To the shrill whistle of steam escaping from a street vendors stove. Or the repetitive recorded voices that blasted from loudspeakers mounted on a car proclaiming their offerings to the world.
The food in the city is quality, with everything you would expect from a capital city. Although it is the street food that really shines. These reliable corn based constancies of Mexican cuisine that can be found throughout the country and are often served up by resourceful street vendors working in a space smaller than a broom closet.
The street mangoes, fresh, juicy and smothered in lime juice, chamoy or other things. An elite snack.
On the other end of the spectrum for street snacks were the plain crisps Mexican seem to love smothered in hot sauce making them soggy, plain crisps. I was not a fan.
There is the tacos al pastor, a dish introduced into Mexico by Lebanese migrants that has become a national favourite found on many a street corner or hole in the wall a reliable, cheap go to. In tacos al pastor there is, I think, a small hint at the story and mindset of Mexico. They are open minded, recognising and welcoming the value of outside ideas and perspectives, adopting what they like and making it their own.
Then there is the tortas, almost baguette style sandwiches stuffed with all sorts of delicious treats although I recommend avoiding adding queso they tend to go heavy on it. I never would have thought a Mexican staple would be a sandwich. I wonder how much this is part due to the influence of the French, who had a brief foray into Mexico under Napoleon's rule.
Another cheap staple that we only found in Mexico city were the basket tacos. Cheap, premade tacos sold from a basket at the side of the road. For a pound or two you could get a filling, tasty lunch while conversing around the basket with the locals.
Oh and of course the breakfasts. Mexicans do breakfast better than most, although the coffee could use some work. It was usually some variation of corn, eggs, salsa and beans. Almost always delicious. I particularly loved the huevos rancheros and chilaquillies.
Finally, I can't not mention the agua frescas. Refreshing fruit water that can be found throughout Mexico. Our personal favourites were jamaica (hibiscus) and piña (pinapple). Although you might want to tell them to go easy on the sugar, because they tend to ladle it in.
Mexico City knows how to party. We spent many a night partying into the wee hours, my favourite being when I dragged Kathy way a long way outside of the tourist zone to see Macka B play at Soul Dread. Ironic that we saw a London based artist all the way out here, but one I had never seen before to be fair.
We watched wrestling including a surreal cage fight between at least 12 women wrestlers, attended an orchestra at the beautiful Palacio de Bellas Artes and saw the murals and art of Diego Riviera and Frida Karla.
We spent hours wandering around the vast Museum of Anthropology and many other wonderful museums. Saw a football match at the Estadio Azteca. And rode ecobicis down the Avenue of Independence and all the way into the center, which is closed to traffic every Sunday. The ecobicis, cost less than 25 pounds for the year and provide a wonderful way to navigate the city, which is surprisingly accessible for cyclists.
We went on a boozy boat cruise around ancient canals in Xochimilco.
And got to know the Mexican liquor intimately at the Mezcal Fest, for £2.50 you got a glass and essentially unlimited mezcal from any of the many passionate vendors who showed up to show off their produce. The best kind of liquor festival.
For Day of the Dead we spent a few days in Tepotzlan, a pueblo magica nestled in the mountains and hour outside of Mexico City.
We initially planned to be in Oaxaca, but our accommodation cancelled on us and everything else was booked or 1000s of pounds. No regrets though, Tepotzlan was beautiful.
The towns celebration focused on Dia de los Angelitos (the day of the little angels). Think Halloween but communal and town wide, with everyone dressed up in all sorts of crazy outfits. People had fires along the roadside and chatted, drank and got merry long into the night. The only disappointment was that the following day, supposedly the main day for Dia de los Muertos, was a bit dead (pun intended?). If there was a party, it had moved elsewhere. Still, it was an experience for sure and a touching, thoughtful way to celebrate and remember those who have passed beyond the land of the living.
Big shout out to Chamberlain and his new wife Pris, they gave us the tip about Tepotzlan and much more local knowledge besides. Thanks for the hospitality Sam!
After Mexico City we visited the colorful, creative and proudly indigenous, proudly Oaxacan Oaxaca.
A state with a deep love of corn, whose lands encompass two mountain ranges and a tropical coast along the shores of the Pacific. This terrain has created a remoteness and isolation that has enabled indigenous communities to retain their customs, their languages and their clear sense of identity.
Oaxaca was one of the states we got to know best, spending as much as 2 months here, with a good chunk of that down along its majestic Pacific coast. Mazunte, Zipolite and of course Puerto Escondido. The kind of places you find yourself naturally slipping outside the tyranny of time into a deeper state of relaxation. Indeed the hot, humid climate rather demands such a slowing down.
Before heading down to the coast though we explored Oaxaca City and its surrounding areas by collectivo. A collectivo is a form of public transport that varies from state to state, in Oaxaca they were old taxis with an additional seat added to the front and children didn't count. Sometimes there were as many as 7 people in these tiny cars. It was an experience for sure.
One of these trips took us to Santiago Matatlan for a tour of a mezcal distillery, which we managed to navigate in Spanish. Mezcal and the agave (El Maguey) plant from which it is made have been cultivated for milenia and are fascinating, alien looking things.
Some agave strains, like tepeztate, take 25 years to mature and can only be found in the wild. It is a labour of love, that often runs in the family for generations. I mean check out this shrine at the distillery containing distils going back almost 100 years. Although, mezcal is not aged like a whiskey accept as a gimmick for tourists. It is aged in the plant and good to go as soon as it is distilled. This was more for posterity I believe.
On the way to the distillery we passed through the famous market of Tlacolula. It is one of the oldest continuous markets in Mesoamerica and you can buy everything from live cattle, to delicious foods, to electronics. It was crazy, I would have liked to have seen more.
We also took a trip to the majestic Arbol de Tule, one of the coolest trees I have ever seen - and I have seen some pretty cool trees on this trip. This one claims to be the widest tree in the world and has legit outlines of animals, some say as many as 12, and even a human face.
No wonder it has long held a special place in the beliefs of the locals, or that the Spanish built a church next to it. Typical Spanish behaviour.
We also took a wonderful walking tour around the city, learning more about its history, people, many fiestas and funky graphiti.
Oaxaca is famous for its food. The strange, rich, chocolatey moles. Tlayudas, the Mexican pizza. Tamales, a stuffed and boiled corn paste wrapped in a leaf that are common for breakfast. Mexican empanadas. And other forms of corn and bean based dishes. Of course the staple of tortillas, that come fresh from a tortilleria by the stack full.
Aside from corn, a cafe in Oaxaca city sold some of the most incredible, flaky, buttery croissants I have ever eaten. Another sign of indelible mark the French left on this country perhaps.
To get to know the food better, we took a fantastic vegetarian cooking class. Where we first toured round the markets to pick up our ingredients before whipping up a delicious meal. We pressed our own tortillas, made a green mole from scratch, concocted two different salsas including a dark fiery devils salsa, wizzed together a guava based agua fresca and a dessert. It was wicked, although a bit chaotic and I am not sure how much I actually learnt how to make the food. Still, totally worth it.
We only stayed 10 days in the city, but could easily have spent longer. It was a little small after Mexico city, but incredibly vibrant, relaxing and friendly. A place you could easily build community.
On our way to the coast we stopped at the magical San Jose del Pacifico in the Sierra Norte mountains. A place of endless sunsets, hongos, spirit dogs and gorgeous forest walks. We loved it so much we came back for a christmas holiday and a delightful respite from the heat of the coast. It was then that we experienced a temazcal, a prehispanic spiritual sauna led by a shaman.
Our first stop on the Pacific coast was Mazunte, a place of beach shacks and dirt roads. Rural as they come. Some might say too rural, especially after the fourth night in a row of being woken by the call of the rooster. Here we took Spanish lessons as a wonderful school with a special view out to the ocean.
We attended the "International" Jazz Festival, although I think it was a stretch to call it international or jazz. Still it was a cool event, full of tourists and locals alike. It seems every town in Mexico has the resources and skills to knock up a stage and sound system rig in less than a day - impressive.
On the first night of this festival there was the flash flood of biblical proportions, made worse by the fact that it happened on the same night we arrived, meaning we didn't have our bearings at all. Only having headed down the hill from our place in the dark to get food. While munching some tacos the heavens opened and they didn't close again for the next 6 hours. At first it was all fun and games, then the taco stands chairs and tables started floating away and the waters gradually rose to our knees. Even then, it wasn't really serious, we just went for a beer in a bar down the road with a pair from the UK we met under our rain shelter. Only later, when the rain still hadn't stopped and the pair decided, crazily in my opinion, to attempt the drive back to Puerto Escondido did we start to worry. We never heard from them again, but no news is good news right. After that we attempted to make our way back up the hill to our accommodation and came across a strange foreign world. Had there been a river there before? We couldn't remember, but it sure as shit hadn't looked like the roaring torrent that was currently blocking our route home. As we huddled under a shelter shivering in our soaking wet clothes with a few other bedraggled strangers did we look at each other and start to wonder if maybe this was serious.
Eventually we took refuge under the palapa of a taco stand, whose owners, bless their souls, gave us towels before heading to bed. Eventually the rains eased and at about 2am we decided to make a move, the torrent having slowed to an ankle high stream. Still treacherous in places, but navigatable and fortunately we were not alone in our journey. We gratefully made it home unscathed.
The morning after revealed the aftermath. Vehicles upturned. The towns only paved road, drowned in a foot of mud dumped by the river of water that had ravaged the rest of the dirt paths in town on its way down to the sea. The sea was a roiling, muddy mess instead of that gorgeous pacific blue I had imagined. The paths were lined with the detritus of dozens of accommodations unfortunate enough to be in the path of the food waters. It was pure carnage.
Still the sun came out and the locals got to work tidying things away at a remarkable speed, this was clearly not the first time this kind of thing happened. Although it was certainly unheard of in this far into what was supposed to be the dry season.
One thing I learnt from this experience, is the fine line between crazy weather and a serious, potentially life threatening situation. Once you realise you have crossed that line, it is most likely too late to prepare for the latter. As these types of events become more likely, how can we re-calibrate our assessment of risk to better prepare ourselves for the unpredictability of a changing climate?
On a happier note, Mazunte had the best food we have eaten all trip. A vegan Moroccan restaurant called El Armadillo. A delicious change from the Mexican cuisine and so fresh, inventive and yummy.
For Kathy's birthday we took a holiday 20 minutes up the coast to Zipolite for the night. Zipolite is indigenous land outside the authority of the Mexican government, which has somehow led it to become the only nudist beach in Mexico. Complete with a lot of naked dudes strutting along the ocean shore. It had a gorgeous stretch of beach and a laid back vibe. I am glad we went.
Then on to Puerto Escondido, for a month or more, including over the Christmas period. So strange to have Christmas in the warmth. So wonderful to miss out on winter completely, I have almost forgotten what it feels like to be cold. We made a home here. Falling into those repetitive patterns, like our sunset walk along the shore our squash games or hikes with the local hiking group. Patterns that become all the more enjoyable every time you repeat them. After initially wondering if we had made a mistake, we slowly fell for Puerto, its beaches, food and the atmosphere. We didn't want to leave.
The food in particular was delicious. From the pizza shack down the road that we definitely ate at too many times, to the fat fish and coconut shrimp tacos loaded with juicy tropical salads.
Celebrating Christmas with Kathy along the shores of the Pacific was lovely. Kathy cooked a delicious dinner, we drank prosecco, smashed a pinata - Mexicans love a pinata - and went out to the bars along the beach. It was different to be sure and didn't really feel like christmas without the cold and the wet. Without friends and family. Still, I could get used to it.
We also had a crazy new years. Partying until the sun came up at the Sinsensura festival. I felt the first rays of the new years sun shine on my face. They were still going when we left, transitioning to a pool party for the day.
It was in Puerto that we discovered that while Mexicans love the sea, it doesn't necessarily mean they can swim. This leads to a strange sight of hundreds of Mexicans bobbing around a meter from the shore in bright orange life jackets. I wish I had a picture.
The beaches in Puerto were majestic streches of golden sand enjoyed by locals and tourists alike, especially to watch the setting sun over the Pacific dip below the horizon at the end of each day. We would spend many wonderful evenings sitting or strolling along the beach during these golden hours. In La Punta there was even a famous espresso martini man and an arancini lady for when we needed refreshments.
Then from the Oaxacan coast we headed to to the lively, friendly and fervently catholic Guadalajara in the state of Jalisco. It is the home of Mariachi and Tequila making it the most Mexican city in Mexico. Or so our walking tour guide proclaimed and I could agree.
It quickly became one of our favourite spots. It just had a friendly vibe and was less touristy than most places we visited. Locals were quick to offer help, happily spoke to us in our fragmented Spanish and spoke slowly and clearly.
This proved helpful as we navigated public transport on our way back from the Chivas match.
Guadalajara has its own, unique food scene and typical dishes that I very much enjoyed, although they were not exactly healthy or especially vegetarian friendly. Tortas Ahogadas, Birria and Carne en Suguro were the main dishes. We did find a fab vegan place that replicated the Guadalajaran local dishes pretty spectacularly. I got the meat in juices, which turned out to be a delicious mushroom stew.
We took a day trip to Tequila, the town, which some people call the Mexican disney land for adults. Here we drank ample tequila whilst visiting the distilleries and wandering the streets of this quaint townn. Tequila has to be made in Jalisco state and must be made from the Blue Agave plant. Giving it a distinctive, delicious flavour that is quite the contrast with Mezcal.
If you make it to Guadalajara, and you really should, you much check out Tlaquepaque. A pueblo magica a short taxi ride from the center that is definitely deserving of the name.
It is full of funky galleries, like the Sergio Bustamante Gallery created by a guy who has a beautiful obsession with this face.
Or this crazy dude, part of a intricate museum of pottery. Which was great despite it's religious undertones.
Then on to Guanajuato, neighbouring Jailisco in the mountains to the North of Mexico City. A town with stronger ties to the Spanish than most, made wealthy by the silver mines discovered and duly extracted and emptied by the Spanish.
The statues of Spanish throughout the city and the strange spectacle of students dressed up in, what at least appears to be, the attire of 15th century European gentry whilst giving callejones, nighttime alleyway tours of the city is odd. As were the eery, naturally mummified bodies discovered in a graveyard that they decided to place on display in the museum.
Still, Guanajuato is a charming city. With brightly colored houses separated by narrow windy alleyways splashed up the sides of a steep, rugged valley.
The city's surrounding hills provided challenging but rewarding hiking. I particularly enjoyed that the cross placed at the top of a cliff overlooking the city had been shown up by the towering flower of an agave plant.
The only other place in Guanajuato state we visited was San Miguelle de Allende, which, while quaint and beautiful, has become something of a US retirement home which rather detracts from its charm. Although I can certainly see the appeal for the OAPs.
From San Miguelle we spent a mammoth day travelling to Michoacan to see the colonies of Monarch butterflies. We had a friendly, chatty guide who got us up there early and the butterflies that did wake up were beautiful, however disappointingly it was too cold for most of them.
After that we headed to Cuernavaca, visiting a friend who has moved out here. Cuernavaca, was probably the only place in Mexico that dissapointed us, sorry Harry. Maybe it was partly where we were staying, but it just didn't seem that nice. We did make a trip to Las Estacas, the Mexican centerparks, which was fab.
Then there was Puebla, the home of the Volkswagen factory that produced a prodigious number of the charming, classic VW Beetle's, many of which still noisily chug along the streets of cities throughout Mexico.
We only visited Puebla for a day, opting to spend our time on the outskirts in the lovely university town of Chulula. It was an excellent choice. Crisp, cool morning walks with a backdrop of the towns Great Pyramid and two fabulous volcanoes dominating the horizon.
Popacatapetl, one of the most active volcanoes in the world would regularly spew ash in short puffs or continuous streams into the air and Iztaccihuatl the more tranquil, serene partner.
Kathy even managed to get me to join her on a running regime, with a target is 10k. Ambitious if you ask me, but you never know. Actually I do know now, we didn't make it. Still it was fun running round the athletics track while admiring the view.
It was also in Cholula we joined a local salsa school for a few lessons, a fun experience even if we were in a lesson mainly with a bunch of 10 years olds. Got to start somewhere I suppose.
Eventually we left Mexico City behind us for the last time and headed south. First to San Christobal, Chiapas and then the Yucatan peninsula via two mammoth overnight bus rides along the way.
The remote, jungly state of Chiapas next to the border with Guatemala felt similar to Oaxaca in many ways. The state from which the Zapatistas violently emerged in response to the North American Free Trade Agreement of 1995, with many regions of Chiapas still under autonomous control. The state of Chiapas contains a patchwork of indigenous communities who trace their histories and languages back to the time of the Mayans. Although we stayed in San Christobal, a colonial town in the mountains with a lovely vibe.
Chiapas is also one of the states where the exploitative and extractive tendencies of capitalism and modern colonialism are most obviously at work. Huge concessions to land and water rights have been given over to US and Canadian interests, whose exploitation of the natural resources of the land has left the water quality dangerously unsafe. We were told you should not even drink it after boiling it. Kathy and I both got horrendously poorly, as most travellers tend to do when visiting the state.
Coca Cola demonstrates a strange, insidious and fascinating illustration of this exploitation, with a complicated relationship to Chiapas and its people. Many of the people of Chiapas revere Coca Cola, drinking more Coca Cola than anywhere else in the world. It is used both as a medicine - treating all manner of ailments including diabetes - and a religious sacrament. In some shops Coke is intentionally priced cheaper than water. It is bonkers.
In Chiapas, indigenous communities have created their own hybrid version of Catholicism, complete with shamans, fizzy drinks and sacrificed chickens. As we learnt on a fascinating tour visiting their churches.
After Chiapas it was on to the Yucatan peninsula, which is comprised of three states; Campeche, Yucatan and Quintana Roe. The land is Netherlands flat and feels empty, which was surprising after coming from the rest of Mexico. It is a hot, humid, jungly scrubland pockmarked like swish cheese with cenotes, deep sinkholes full of fresh water that make for refreshing natural swimming pools.
Kathy, her dad and I successfully completed a road trip from Merida to Xpujil along the Ruta Puuc, visiting Mayan sites like Uxmal, Labna and Becan along the way to the mighty ruins of Calakmul.
It was quite the adventure.
After Calakmul we headed back to Campeche, which was rather uninspiring and felt empty. Although its pastel coloured houses were gorgeous.
Merida was sleek and trendy, with fancy restaurants and bars. We had a good time here with David and Fiona, although I was out for a couple of days recovering from San Christobal.
Valladolid should have been amazing, we were staying in a flashy boutique spa hotel before I headed off to the US for a week. And it was fabulous, we fed baby turtles, drank cocktails in the underground salt cave pool and even enjoyed a couples massage - my first even massage I think.
However, we ran into trouble when biking out to the cenotes that rather put a damper on our time. Kathy was bitten by a dog, leading to a stressful evening travelling to Playa del Carmen to get the rabies vaccine. Not ideal, but it all sorted now thank god.
Finally, Tulum and Bacalar in Quintana Roo. Our first real stint hosteling in Latin America.
Tulum town was an okay hippy town with some cool bars, although we didn't do that much here. We never got down to the beach area or attended one of the famous parties, but we heard the prices were ridiculous. I do regret not diving the cenotes though, I heard good things.
Then Bacalar, the last place we went to in Mexico, a gorgeous turquoise lagoon that used to shelter pirates. A chill spot where we did paddle board yoga, boated on the lake and ate possibly the best burrito I have ever had. The incredible array of sauces definitely helped.
Then it was time to leave Mexico behind. Time to embark on the next leg of this adventure, first in Belize and then the rest of Central America. Mexico is a wonderful country. I feel we got to know it deeper than most travellers and am glad of that. Hopefully one day we will be back.
A note from the author
If you made it this far, congratulations. Thank you. Apologies for the length of this thing, it quickly became a beast that has taken me far too long to pull together. I guess there is a lot to cover in 6 months and still there is more I could say.
I will not be writing up Central America, my writing attention must turn to other things. I may have bitten off a bit more than I can chew, but over the next 10 weeks or so I hope to write another story on memory as part of the Summer of Protocols program. Exciting and daunting at the same time, especially while juggling my other commitments. Wish me luck!