Procrastinet

Trip Report: Tulum, Mexico - Day 2

filed under: Stuff you never, ever needed to know

Max woke up at 6am, just as dawn was starting to peek up over the ocean. It was hazy, with low clouds at the horizon, so no spectacular sunrise, just a gradual brightening and the occasional peek of a blood red disc of sun. We made our way down to the beach and let Mommy sleep a little bit more.

A guy from the cabanas next door, with an impressive, almost Sikh-like beard, came out swathed in a white gauzy robe, sporting an iPod, and meditated while chanting fervently. I wonder how Max’s cries of delight as he started to play in the waves affected the yogi’s meditative state.

I later christened him “the Naked Yogi” when he finished meditating, stripped naked (nice even tan, for a yogi), and run into the surf.

One of the two resident dogs at Hamaca Loca turned out to be an avid early-morning crab hunter, digging furiously until she unearthed one and then snapping at it. The crabs, to their credit, all seemed up for the fight, and gave as good as they got. Eventually, their stoic self-defense would win her over, and she'd mosey off to dig up another while they frantically re-buried themselves:

We futzed around on the beach for an hour or so, then headed out to find breakfast. I decided we should try the “bargainous” Trecelunas.

(notice in the picture above that Mommy is pulling a "don't you dare!" face at the boy, who got a little cranky over his toast)

The breakfast was tasty, if not particularly large portions, and at 80 pesos (~$8) didn’t seem as bargainous as I’d hoped. But the coffee was strong and, once I got the young waiter’s attention, plentiful. I found myself anxious about time, which is a bad idea in a Tulum restaurant, because I wanted to get to the ruins before the buses arrived, and somehow it was already 10:30am (we ran up to the San Francisco to get more pesos before breakfast).

We got to the ruins later than I’d hoped, and there were already four or five buses in the parking lot, and then killed some time wandering the shops at the entrance, where I immediately fell in love with a panama hat (I’m a sucker for grandpa hats). The guy wanted 300 pesos (~$30) which for some reason I balked at. I took Max to the bathroom, with the guy following me the whole way, pointing to other shops and other hats that he represented. On the way back, I stopped to ask if he would “bajar un poco el precio.”

He made a face at me. I suggested, perhaps, “doscientos cinquenta.” He rolled his eyes.

“Because,” he said, crossing himself, “you is my first sale, dos ochenta.”

Lisa came to see how I was doing. “Doscientos ochenta,” I said. She made a face.

“I think I’m okay,” I told the guy, giving him back the hat again, and he looked like I’d kicked his abuela. We walked away.

“Hey!” he called as I got twenty feet away. He waved me back, grudgingly, and looked around as if he was making sure nobody was watching. He clearly wanted me to believe he was giving me an embarrassingly good deal. “I do what you say. Dos cinquenta. Because,” he crossed himself again, “you my first sale today.”

I walked away absurdly happy with my new hat, and absurdly proud at having haggled extensively just to save a whole $5.

(entering the ruins in my new grandpa hat)

(to carry the boy on my shoulders I had to switch back to the Yankees hat)

With the boy along I knew a tour guide would be a waste of money, as we’d spend the whole time wrangling a bored child. Sure enough, he was pretty much a stinkerpants the whole time, and we sort of grumped through the somewhat-crowded ruins. They seemed to be the usual history-tourism combination of amazing and a little boring. After about a half hour, we headed down for the beach.

The beach at the ruins is awe-inspiring, even when clotted with daytrippers. Big limestone formations, beautiful water, cliffs with ruins hanging above – just amazing. It would have been even better if I’d thought to put on my d*mn bathing suit, but there you go.

After an hour or so on the beach, we went back up to the ruins, continuing a feud with our son who insisted on screaming for the opposite of whatever it was we happened to be doing. Finally we headed for the parking lot, stopping to pick up two sorely needed ice cold Cokes from a guy with a cart. When we got to the entrance compound, we discovered a troupe of Mayan dancers getting ready to do the falling-from-the-pole thing I’d seen pictures of. I was so happy to catch it that I gave them the full $10 they requested when they came around passing a hat.

It was really heating up as we headed towards 1pm, so we went back to the cabana to get out of the worst of the heat and relax a little bit.

We wanted to go to Maya Grill for lunch, but it had a sign up saying it was closed (I think for a private event, though it was closed again the next day). A rope was across the entrance, and a uniformed guard waved us on. We were getting perilously close to the cranky level of hunger, but I pushed on a ways up the north beach road, looking for Don Cafetos. The other option was Que Fresco! at Zama’s, which for some reason I had a bias against.

Just as I had given up and agreed to turn around, we got to Don Cafetos. We took a seat all the way on the beach side of the big dining area and ordered the massive margaritas.

They dropped off the salsa and chips, and the bowl of hot veggies and peppers which somehow, despite all of the reading about the various restaurants I’d done, was a surprise to me. It was terrific – hot carrots and potatoes, assorted peppers, and a clove of garlic, all in a spiced oil with cinnamon sticks broken up in it. Fantastic.

I nibbled the corner of one of the peppers, and it seemed innocuous. So I bit off the end. About ten seconds later, I was on my way to deeply unhappy.

I covered my tongue with sugar and then, as one does, convinced my wife to take a bite.

Lunch was great – I had the chicken fajitas:

She had the Mexican Platter, with two enchiladas, two quesadillas, a chile relleno and two rolled fried something-or-others:

Max had the fries. An American kid all the way, our kid. Then he hid under the table.

After lunch, we went down to the big beach there (I’m sure the point has a name, but I’ve been referring to it as “the beach at Don Cafetos”). VERY wide, beautiful beach, which seemed popular among locals. Lots of fishing boats and activity. Worth spending some time on, but my itinerary had us pushing on to Akumal for some snorkeling, so we just took a quick look and headed out.

The drive to Akumal was uneventful, and let us get used to driving the Jeep with the top down (very windy at 100kph!). We parked at Lol-Ha, identified the patch of beach that appears on the locogringo webcam, and rented masks.

Part of my running theme of leaving everything useful behind on this trip (not on purpose, but remarkably thorough): our masks and snorkels, unused since our honeymoon in 2000, were in my mother-in-law’s garage. By the time we realized that, it was too late to go get them. I also left behind our Can-Do Riviera Maya map, my Yucatan Guidebook, the printouts of our car rental and cabana reservations, and our JetBlue itinerary. And then Lisa left the Mexican Spanish Phrasebook on the plane on the flight down. Sigh.

Anyway, I forged out into the choppy water looking for the brilliant snorkeling of Akumal. But I had trouble with the scale of the maps I had seen, and saw nothing but empty sea grass. I came back in and tried somewhere else. Still nothing. The guy at the rental shop had suggested in front of the soccer field at Akumal Beach Club, so I tried there, and resolved to keep going out until I found something interesting.

As I headed for open water, all alone in choppy seas, a fishing boat buzzed past about 30 feet in front of me. I turned back.

Halfway back to shore, I said, possibly aloud, “no g*d d*amnit I’m going to find something” and turned back to the bay. After about five minutes of dogged swimming over barren sea grass, I suddenly soared out over an astounding reef, choked with fish.

The waves were so choppy that there was sand in the water, and the sky was partly cloudy, and the mask was stinky and cheap, but it was still breathtaking. I can only imagine what it must be like under better conditions. Really amazing.

I swam back in to let Lisa have her turn and take my turn on kid duty, where he was in this kind of mood:

In the meantime, I heard a guy nearby talking about where to see turtles, and asked him. He gave me directions and waxed stoner-excited about the experience (“Dude! One was, like, THIS BIG. It was AMAZING. You’ve totally got to go…”). So when Lisa came back I headed where he had pointed.

On the way out I eyed the darkening sky back west of us. The weather reports before our trip had indicated thunder storms on Saturday, and the sky was bruising up pretty good. I hurried out, but as I got most of the way there I turned back to see that the black clouds were right over the beach, and the wind was kicking up. So I reluctantly gave up on the turtles and hurried back in.

I got the Jeep covered and we got all the way back to Tulum, the clouds creeping south and east as we went. We were back in the cabana maybe two minutes when a massive thunderstorm rolled in. The soaking rain made a couple of drips through the thatched roof, but not too badly.

We waited it out, then headed out for dinner around 8:30 or 9pm. Max fell asleep in the car, and when we got to Vita e Bella for dinner he stayed asleep.

Dinner at Vita e Bella was somewhat disappointing, despite the lovely atmosphere – the bacon in my penne with bacon and pecorino hadn’t been cooked before going into the sauce, so it was essentially penne with boiled bacon. Eesh. Great drinks, though, and beautiful grounds.

A good, full, second day, especially once I got over the feeling that there were things we had to get done. It’s hard to remember to be on vacation when you’re on vacation.

Posted by rjt at May 22, 2007 10:21 AM