Our Get Away

The Cuota road cuts a straight path through the jungle of The Yucatan Peninsula from Merida to Cancun. The divided highway with steep tolls is a quick if not a little boring route, missing all the charm of the pueblos and activity you would find on the Libre road, however it offers a quick and easy path to the enchanting Mayan Riviera! We took this route cutting off at the Cancun Airport exit over to Highway 307, which traverses the Caribbean coast from Cancun to Chetumal. Our destination for the night is charming Hacienda Paradise, a pet friendly hotel near Playa del Carmen’s Fifth Avenue. We have always enjoyed Playa and have fond memories of walking the pedestrian only tourist area and the sugary sand beaches to the west in Playacar. Playa is seductive, luring you with clean white powder beaches, crystal turquoise water and a bohemian international appeal. Across the channel, you can watch ships seeking port at Isla Cozumel. After you have had enough sand and sea, you can find a sidewalk café for a good meal and people watching. Hurricane Wilma furiously changed the once rustic “Playa” to an upscale and fun place to vacation. Strolling the newly cobblestoned Fifth Avenue makes for easy window-shopping, the stores wares spilling out onto the sidewalk enticing you to spend your American dollars and Euros on their many upscale items. You will most likely see more Europeans than Americans. We settle into our room and Gringa Dog inspects the “Doggie Welcome Basket” filled with treats and toys, the hotel has provided a doggie bed plus water and food bowls. After a leisurely walk on Playa’s north beach we have a scrumptious meal at the famous “Blue Lobster”, while the splurge was pricey the meal was delicious.

Note to self: Insert neat pictures of Playa del Carmen here the next time you go and remember to take pictures.

Early the next morning Ty steered the car onto “307” with Tulum just an hour away we figured why not! It really is not an attractive stretch of road, passing scrub jungle, construction sights and elaborate walled all-inclusive resort entrances, as dull as it is you know just a few meters away are what must be the most beautiful beaches in the world.

Traveling down the road, you pass the exits for Xcaret, which would be the Yucatan’s version of Disneyland, signs for various cenotes, Xelha and countless other tourist sights. Even though Gringa Dog was in tow we decided to check out the visitor center at Tulum ruins, arriving well before the tour buses we found we almost had the place to ourselves, for a while anyway. The vendors petted Adie, ask her name and she was welcome everywhere but The Ruins. Did you know there are three Tulum’s; Tulum Pueblo, Tulum Ruins and the hotel zone, you really need a car to get around here, as it is some distance between the three areas. Turning left onto the Boca Paila road, which winds its way through the Sian Ka’an Biosphere, ending in Punta Allen, we drive the narrow road past one EcoChic Hotel after another and believe me an EcoChic room with no A/C and a mosquito net does not come cheap in Tulum, but the view is mesmerizing.


 We are limited to the only Gringa Dog friendly hotel around, just steps from the water’s edge we will be spending the night in a simple beachfront cabana at “Zamas”.



 

Adie loves the beach



We nestle our butts in hammocks under the palapa-covered porch, drinking cold beer from our styro chest watching Adie play in the sand. In the evening, we sat on the porch and enjoyed the sounds of the waves as a local band cranked out tunes from the stage of “Que Fresco”, Zama’s beachfront restaurant.

The sunrise over the ocean lures me from under the mosquito net and reality sets in, we must head back to Merida, Casa Sur and that blasted JACKHAMMER. This short Caribbean getaway was a much needed shot in the arm to get us through the remaining months of construction.

Yes, that is a ''ceiling fan'' under the mosquito net. Pretty neat

While Playa del Carmen and Tulum are great places to visit, they are of course, very ''Touristy''. There are just as nice beaches, cheaper hotels, and great restaurants in the area if you are willing to go just a little more ''local''.

Little Seaside Pueblo

The road to Sisal weaves its way through the jungle, past henequen fields, crumbling haciendas, quaint pueblos, and century old churches spilling us onto the sugary beach and the west coast of the Yucatan Peninsula.

Just a short drive from the bustling city of Mérida we find the small peaceful village, the decaying colonial buildings stand in testament to what was once ‘The Port” for henequen exportation. The building of the Progreso pier sealed the fate of Sisal and the once bustling shipping town took its lumps with grace. When the henequen arrived at ports on distant shores the bales were stamped SISAL, so the name of this tiny town is known around the world as the unofficial name for henequen.

The salty gulf air makes us hungry for fresh seafood so we seek out a beachfront palapa covered restaurant and feast on shrimp dinners washed down with cold cerveza and coca light. With our toes in the sand we know it is days just like this one that we dreamed about for so long.

No Events

I click “Hotmail” in the morning as pale yellow and orange swirls in the eastern sky.  My sleepy eyes scan my inbox. There it is, staring at me for another day, my email calendar “You have no events scheduled for today”.

I could change this I know. I could schedule in:

 Take Gringa Dog out for her morning business.

 Wash coffee cup.

 Check Email.

 Call Ty.

 Make bed.

Walk the beach to see what the tide washed in.

Somehow my pea brain does not need an alert for these things, so again in the morning I will see “You have no scheduled events for today”

With Ty back in the states I have been doing my needlepoint and taking in the warm Yucatan sunshine.

Yesterday I watched three graceful sailboats glide in the turquoise water. The gardener working at the house next door singing a Mayan folk song caused a smile to cross my face as I pulled a thread through the canvas.

This may be boring for some of you, not for me, the beauty is in taking in the details. Watching the changing shadows of clouds on the water, the soft rustle of palm tree fronds, the crunch of seashells under flip flops. Watching fisherman cast their nets.  Being totally amazed by the intricate weave of the cotton hammock I’m lying on.

My landlord saying to me ”I have a bubble if you would like to bob in the sea”. She’s British you know!

This is a long way from my Day Planner being attached to me like a life line. I loved those days as well, but I’ll take the hammock by the sea, thank you.

Run in with the law



What would I be doing now if my life had not changed so drastically? I check the weather for Midland, Texas and I know exactly what I would be doing. The aroma of stew in my big copper pot would fill the air and my well-seasoned black skillet would be steaming with golden cornbread. I would be curled on the end of my sofa cuddled up with Adie, knitting Ty’s other sock.  I sat on the terrace in the cool gray dawn, Iguanas clicking to their mates and considered the events of yesterday.

The tenants here at Casa Rosa had decided to meet for breakfast at Taco Maya, a great little expat owned café which serves up mouthwatering breakfast burritos.  I decided to walk and flag down a passing Collectivo (used primarily by locals)because I also needed to stop at the Mercado for some fruit. While this seemed like a good idea I discover the fully loaded vans race by and a blonde Gringa flapping her arms doesn’t seem to faze the drivers.

I greet other pedestrians with a friendly Buenos Dias, including a young Mayan couple with two small boys so close in size they may have been twins. I smile and tousle the hair of one, his black eyes smile back as he flashes me a toothy grin as I wipe the moisture off my brow. To my left I realize a black double cab pickup is pulling alongside me then cuts me off as it pulls onto the shoulder. The uniformed police officers greet me with Buenos Dias , using a mixture of hand gestures, Spanglish and English I explain I am meeting mi amigas for breakfast at Taco Maya, I hold up my small colorful shopping bag  “Mercado, fruitas” I say.. The driver smiles and motions to the back seat, I nod as the policeman in the passenger seat exits the vehicle and gentlemanly opens the rear door. Reaching inside he begins to shift the clutter around, making room for me to sit. I climb in next to the bullet proof vests and automatic weapons, we continue our friendly conversation as I am chauffeured to El Mercado by officers Jose’ and Jose’.

Taco Maya in Chelem



A Seashore of Condoms

Sadly, Ty left this morning for 2 weeks back in the U.S.. Adie and I stood on the sand street in the dark and waited with him for the driver. I'm all stocked up on groceries and neccesitos, diet coke, smokes and coffee. At dawn I watched not one but two large white cruise ships anchor at the tip of Progreso's long pier. The Carnival is in town.

Later, Adie and I headed out for our morning beach combing. After the strong waves of the Norte the beach is completely different than a day ago. Crossing over the jetty I spied what appeared to be a bright blue condom, attached to the sand and blowing in the breeze. As I scanned the shore I could see the beach was littered with electric blue condoms.

We continued on our search for shells and sea glass, being ever so mindful of the transparent blue bulges on the beach. We walked further and explored the new mounds of shells. Adie braves the chilly water to bite at the waves as we continue our walk. Soon I bend to pick up a pretty shell, hoping it has made the journey, tumbling through the waves unbroken. The shell was broken , but resting under it was a smooth and frosty piece of turquoise sea glass. I think often we reach for something in our life but come up with something better.

 

Ok, back to the electric blue condoms. Come to find out they are not the result of an oversexed cruise party; they are Portuguese Man of Wars. What is a west Texas girl to think when I'm used to seeing tumbleweeds in the sand.



Beach Dog