Monday, April 30, 2018

FROM ONE RIVIERA TO ANOTHER – PUERTO MORELOS TO LA CRUZ VIA MERIDA AND PALENQUE


April 16, 2018

I had things to do, so left the house reasonably early to go in search of breakfast.  I decided I wanted to enjoy the view of the turquoise water, so opted to eat at the Puerto Morleos Yacht Club, which is actually just a restaurant with a dock in front of it.  I ate breakfast outside on the veranda, overlooking the pier.  I ordered scrambled eggs and bacon, which came mixed together as is common in Mexico.  Most Mexican bacon is sliced so thinly that it cooks up into almost nothing and is virtually impossible to remove from the pan intact.  Chopping it up and scrambling it in cures this problem.  There had to have been at least three eggs and, with bread, juice, coffee, and fruit, I couldn’t eat all of it.

Hobbit House

Puerto Morelos Yacht Club
                                                                                                                              After breakfast, I went for a walk to find out where the taxis congregated and determine if my choice of restaurant for dinner was going to be open on a Monday.  It was, so I completed my circuit of Puerto Morelos and went back to my lodging to practice the guitar.  Across the street from the restaurant was a house that looked as if it had been designed by Gaudi for a hobbit.  With the weekend over, Puerto Morelos was a ghost town.

John Gray's Kitchen
I spent a productive day practicing and completing another blog post.  I wanted to be sure to go out for dinner before dusk when the jejenes came out.  My friend had recommended John Gray’s Kitchen and I wanted to try it.  The tables sat in a pleasant garden in front of the house.  The patio was covered in pavers, which kept down the bugs.  The menu was an eclectic mix.  I opted for the special, which was roasted breast of duck served over green beans and mashed sweet potatoes.  While there was a couple there when I arrived, they soon left and I was the only diner.  I was visited by a young boy from the neighborhood while I waited for my food and he sang me a song.

The duck was delicious, crispy on the outside and moist within.  The sweet potatoes were a treat.  The green beans, however, were cooked to death.  The prices made John Gray’s Kitchen a special occasion destination, but they didn’t try to gouge their customers on the drink prices and they made a decent margarita.  The service was friendly and attentive.

After dinner, I stopped for an ice cream and then went back to my place to pack and watch Netflix.  I wanted to go to bed early, but ended up staying up late, anyway.  Fortunately, I looked at my ticket to Merida and realized that the bus left at 11:00 from Cancun, not Puerto Morelos.  I would have to leave an hour earlier to get there in time.

April 17, 2018

I got up at 7:00 so as to have time to eat a leisurely breakfast, pack, and still be able to leave by 9:00.  Despite my fears, they did not pour concrete in front of the house just before I left, although they had just poured a gutter at the corner and looked like they were working in my direction.  The sandy mess in front of the house had dried somewhat and I was able to remove my luggage without sinking up to my knees.  I was somewhat sorry to pull the door shut behind me and leave.  I could have spent more time in Puerto Morelos.

I lugged my bags the block and a half  to where the taxis were forced to wait, cursing Volaris’ size restrictions on luggage that had required me to leave my wheeled bag behind in La Cruz.  Finding a taxi was easy and he drove me back to the bus station for another 30 pesos.  There was no one in the ticket office to sell me a ticket to Cancun, so I hoped I could pay on the bus.  I waited a while, wondering where all the buses were.  There had been buses every five or ten minutes when I left Playa del Carmen, but I didn’t see a single one and it was commute time.  I did see a lot of combis and I was tempted to grab one but didn’t because they were all crowded and I had a lot of luggage.  Finally, a mini bus approached with the ADO bus line logo on its windscreen.  I verified that it was going to the bus station in Cancun and then climbed aboard after stowing my luggage in the rear.  I never determined if it was actually operated by ADO or just served their terminal.  I rather think it was the latter, since they generally operated just like any other combi, stopping wherever passengers waited by the side of the road or wanted to get off.  It was comfortable, clean, and got me to the bus station for 25 pesos, which was less that the rate for Mexicans advertised in the bus station.  I couldn’t complain.  Once again, I bemoaned the economic factors that make combis impractical in the USA.  They worked beautifully where labor was cheap and lawsuits uncommon.

The ADO Station in Cancun
The bus station in Cancun was a large and bustling place.  I arrived an hour early, so sat watching the people.  There were a lot of backpackers headed south towards Tulum.  None of them seemed to be going my way.  My bus didn’t appear until about five minutes before it was due to depart, but there weren’t a lot of passengers, so we got away on time.  The ADO bus was not nearly as luxurious as the Primera Plus ones, but it was clean and modern.  It didn’t have leg rests or individual TV screens, but it also lacked the barrier between the driver and the passengers, which made my view from the front row much nicer and kept the temperature comfortable.  They did play movies to entertain us.  Unfortunately, they didn’t provide us with drinks and snacks, so I had to make do with the dry pound cake I had bought at the Oxxo the day before.  Mexican pastries are almost universally dry and tasteless.  I always found this mysterious in a land where everything else was sweet beyond belief.

The ride to Merida took four hours.  We trundled along a narrow highway through the scrubby jungle, seeing civilization only at the toll stations and when we entered the outskirts of Merida.  We made no intervening stops.  The bus station was grubbier than the one in Cancun, but I managed to buy a ticket for my next leg to Palenque and find a taxi without any trouble.  It wasn’t far to my hotel in the historic center.

The Hotel Colon
I had booked a room in the Hotel Colon.  Thirty years before, when I had first visited Merida, my mother and I had stayed at the Casa del Balaam.  I had tried to book a room there first but found it too expensive.  Figuring one old, colonial hotel might be just like another, I booked a room around the corner at the Hotel Colon, which looked lovely from the outside and charged about 25% as much.  The hotel was somewhat of a disappointment.  The outside was grand enough, but the lobby was a bit shabby, although lovely in an antique fashion.  The rooms were shabbier still, although an effort had been made to modernize the bathrooms.  The linens were fresh and new, but the tile was worn and the furniture couldn’t have been newer than the 1950s.  It had been painted once the finish wore off, but that paint was chipped and peeling.  The bathroom was tiny, without an inch of counter on which to place toiletries or so much as a hook on which to hang a towel.  For some reason, towel racks are a rarity in Mexico and Central America.  On the plus side, the beds were comfortable, the vanity made a reasonable desk, the WiFi signal was strong, and there was working air conditioning.  For $21 a night in a great location, I couldn’t quibble.  The staff was friendly, there were no bugs, and breakfast was included.


Cathedral Square in Merida
Not having eaten anything but dry poundcake all day, I went out to find food as soon as I got settled.  I wandered around the neighborhood, trying to orient myself from memory.  Merida was the very first city I had visited in Mexico and I remember having been startled at how ancient and European it seemed.  Now, it just seemed like another colonial Mexican city, not as grand as Guadalajara, but bigger than most.  It also seemed very empty.  The historical center was geared towards tourists and the tourist season was over.  Many of the restaurants were closed.  I walked down to the Cathedral square and looked for the café where my mother and I had often eaten on my last visit.  I couldn’t find it, so I stopped into a restaurant that had at least a few patrons.

Merida Cathedral
I ordered a Caesar salad with grilled chicken and a beer and relaxed.  Midway through my meal, I noticed another single American looking woman enter the restaurant and sit down at a nearby table.  I waited until she had ordered a drink and then invited her to sit with me.  It turned out that she was in town to visit her daughter who was participating in a program called Up with People (or Viva la Gente) where young people traveled the world, performing community service, and presenting shows with a theme of worldwide peace and unity.  The group was putting on a show in Merida that evening and the woman, whose name was Noelle, invited me to join her.  Not having anything more interesting to do that evening, I agreed to go along.

The theater was just around the corner from my hotel and we went there as soon as we had finished dinner.  It was a grand old theater and I always found it interesting to see the insides of old, colonial buildings.  It reminded me very much of theaters I had attended in Russia and Italy, with seats on the main floor and several floors of boxes all around the sides.  Up with People was being sponsored by the local Rotary Club and most of the audience were Rotarians and members of the families hosting the participants.  Up with People is a secular organization and has been in existence since the late 1960s.  I was told that they used to perform at the Superbowl halftime shows before they became such commercial enterprises.
The Cast of Up With People

There must have been a hundred cast members hailing from nineteen different countries.  Their levels of talent varied as much as their appearances, but they were all young and energetic and seemed to be having a great time.  Some of them were very good singers and dancers.  Their songs were mostly in English, but there were a few in Spanish and Spanish subtitles were projected on a screen behind the stage during the English language ones.  They sang about peace and unity, taking care of the planet, and making the world a safe place for women.  The show was entertaining and the sentiments uplifting.  It was inspiring to see all those sincere, young people and left me feeling a little bit more positive about the future of the world.  It was nice to see someone working to counteract nationalism and greed.  I was nearly moved to tears several times.

I left after the show and made my way back to the hotel.  I wrote for a little while but was having trouble keeping my eyes open.  I watched an hour of Netflix and was asleep before 11:00.

April 18, 2018

Having gone to sleep early the night before, I was awake by 6:30.  I dozed for an hour longer and then got up.  The antique French doors to my balcony did little to keep out the city noise.  I had been given a ticket for breakfast the night before but couldn’t find it anywhere.  I had been trying to juggle three remotes, three bags, the ticket, WiFi password, and my room key.  I figured I must have dropped it somewhere along the way to my room.  I considered begging for a replacement, but I only had one day to spend in Merida and I wanted to locate the café where my mother and I had eaten years before.  I went out and surveyed the neighborhood.  I started from Casa del Balaam, knowing that the place had been in a square within a block of the hotel.  I eventually found it, but it had been converted into a steak house and was closed for the season.  Disappointed, I decided the next best option was to eat in the restaurant in Casa del Balaam itself, Bistrola 57.


Casa del Balaam
I ordered French toast with bacon and was pleasantly surprised to find it moist and topped with cinnamon, raisins, and strawberries.  I don’t like maple syrup and find unsalted butter disgusting, so was always happy when a pleasant alternative presented itself.  My waiter was polite and efficient and kept my coffee cup filled.  I relaxed and enjoyed my breakfast.

After breakfast, I decided to see what tour options might be available that afternoon.  I had already been to Uxmal and Chichen Itza and, while there were a few other options available during the tourist season, none of them were running on weekdays in late April. 

The neighborhood was filled with shops selling embroidered blouses and I stopped into a few of them.  I would have bought one, but the prices were double what I would pay in Bucerias, so I abandoned the idea.  I did, however, pay an outrageous price for a new hat.  It was a little nicer than the one I had left on the bus to Guadalajara, but not worth five times as much.  Still, I didn’t want to burn my forehead again while walking around the ruins at Palenque, so I coughed up the 250 pesos.  I bought a couple of snacks to tide me over in case I didn’t get a chance to eat during the eight-hour bus ride to Palenque and then returned to my room to write and practice the guitar.

Outdoor Cafe in the Santa Lucia Neighborhood of Merida
I stayed in my room, reading, writing, and practicing until 6:00 when I got hungry.  It was still hot outside, but at least the sun was no longer beating straight down.  I walked over to the square where my mother and I had eaten and had a glass of wine and a wonderful goat cheese, sun dried tomato and basil pizza.  It was a lovely setting in the Santa Lucia neighborhood which had originally been constructed to house African slaves back in the sixteenth century.  It’s been gentrified a bit since then.

I strolled around a bit after dinner and had a long talk with a tour operator.  He warned me that the mosquitoes were very bad in Palenque and suggested that I visit the Mayan cooperative (across the street from my hotel) to buy a hammock to ward them off.  Apparently, sisal has mosquito repellent properties.  I did visit the coop and talked to one of the shamans who worked there but left without being convinced to buy either a hammock or any amber jewelry, both of which I already had in abundance.  Merida was beautiful, but I had forgotten what it was like to be an obvious tourist to be preyed on by every business owner in town.  Thankfully, the foreigners in La Cruz are considered to be part of the community and are treated with more respect.  I was glad to go back to my room and spend the rest of the evening watching Netflix.


April 19, 2018

The ADO Terminal in Merida
I got up early and had checked out and called a taxi by 7:30. My bus left at 8:30 and I got to the station in time to buy a coffee and a sandwich for the bus ride.  The ADO terminal had free WiFi and the bus had it occasionally.


The Highway to Champoton
The Bay of Campeche at Champoton
                                                                                                                                                                                                        The first leg of the journey, to Campeche, took two and a half hours.  We drove on a new, free highway through the scrubby jungle.  Much of the forest along the roadway had been burned, most likely on purpose. Campeche appeared to be a big, modern city from what I could see from the highway.  We drove on a toll road for an hour or so after Campeche.  I was curious the see the Bay of Campeche, but we didn’t reach the coast until near the city of Champoton.  Champoton seemed to be the local beach resort, although it was little developed.  There wasn’t much beach, but the water was that Caribbean blue and very clear.  The only boats I saw were a few pangas in Champoton.


Campeche Countryside
We left the toll road and turned inland at Champoton to head for Escarcega.  The highway there was narrower and not as modern.  The state of Campeche was hillier than Yucatan and greener.  We stopped briefly at Escarcega to discharge passengers and then continued on across a narrow neck of the state of Tabasco and into Chiapas at El Zapata.

The road got much narrower after El Zapata and the land became much greener and more agricultural.  Everything was very lush.  We saw why when it began to rain.  I began to regret having left my raincoat in La Cruz.  It seemed the rainy season had arrived in Southern Mexico, at least.  I stopped reading and looked out the window as we entered the Palenque area, eventually spotting my hotel by the side of the road.

My Room at the Hotel Ciudad Real
The city of Palenque was small but bustling and seemed to offer anything one might need.  I stopped worrying that I would have trouble finding an ATM.  Two tour operators approached me with brochures on my way to the taxi stand.  Forty pesos got me delivered to my hotel, the Hotel Ciudad Real.

View of the Hotel Grounds from the Restaurant
The hotel was large and sprawling, with beautiful grounds, a lovely pool, bar, and restaurant.  It seemed like I was the only person there.  While $45/night was more than I usually spend, it was a steal for this place.  My room was large, clean, and comfortable.  There was even a counter in the bathroom and there were towel racks!  The WiFi worked in the room.  The only thing I might have asked for was an electrical outlet near the bed to charge my phone.  A spacious work area offset this lack to some degree.
After a nine-hour bus ride, I was hungry.  I started to go to dinner and then realized that the bell man had run off with my key.  Not wanting to lock myself out of the room, I was forced to tackle the task most feared by speakers of foreign languages everywhere… making a phone call.  I called the front desk and managed to explain the situation without difficulty.  A sheepish bell man soon appeared to return my key.

I ate dinner at the hotel restaurant. At first, I wasn’t sure it was open because there was nobody there.  Then I noticed that a few tables were set.  The restaurant was outdoors on a tree-shaded deck, overlooking the pool area.  Strings of white lights illuminated the area after the sun set.  I had a couple of tiny margaritas and some very nice steak fajitas, served with both tortillas and moist, tasty bread.  I was hungry enough to eat all of it.  I sat there for some time, enjoying the atmosphere, until it started to rain.  Unfortunately, the credit card machine was not working, so I had to use part of my dwindling supply of cash.

I spent the remainder of the evening playing games on my phone and writing.  Before I went to dinner, I emailed one of the tour companies to try to make a reservation for the following day, but I never heard back from them.  Traveling during the off season was starting to annoy me.  Another deluge hit after I returned to my room.  Creepy jungle birds were squawking in the forest.  It was a stark contrast to the city noise of the night before.

April 20, 2018

Having failed to make tour reservations the night before, I got up at 6:30 so as to make it to the tour companies before it was too late to book anything for the same day.  I walked the kilometer or so into town, looking for the tour company I had tried to email the night before, since they appeared to have the best prices.  The map they had given me seemed to indicate that their office was on the far side of the highway and I saw one of their vans parked over there, so I crossed the road.  I couldn’t find their office, but I found another tour company that was open.  In Palenque, Tulum Tours seemed to have the best prices and Kim Tours, where I booked mine, was probably the most expensive.  Their vans were a little nicer, but not worth an extra 145 pesos in my opinion.  Still, the fellow in the office was friendly and I was able to relax after booking a tour to the waterfalls at Roberto Barrios for that afternoon and another to the ruins and two other waterfalls for the following day.

Perhaps the best part about Kim Tours was the breakfast spot next door where I got extremely nice bacon and eggs for 40 pesos.  They only had café de olla (regular coffee brewed with cinnamon and sometimes sugar), but they served it with warm milk and I enjoyed relaxing there while I ate and drank my coffee.

Downtown Palenque
My next mission was to visit the bus station and buy a ticket for the airport shuttle to Villahermosa on Sunday.  I was happy to discover that ADO actually went straight to the airport, so I would not need to transfer to a taxi to get there.  Some of the tour companies went there, too, but I did not compare prices.  Most of the tour companies also offered the option of ending their tours in San Cristobal for those who were continuing in that direction.  As it turned out, all the tours met at a convenience store at the end of the day to put the passengers bound for San Cristobal into a single van.

After breakfast, I took a walk through downtown Palenque.  It seemed to be market day and the streets were very crowded with vendors, shoppers, and trucks.  I found an ATM and got some cash.  I saw no other tourists downtown and didn’t get hassled.  There were lots of restaurants and it might have been fun to go back there for dinner if I hadn’t been by myself.  The town was bigger than I expected.  I needed toothpaste, so I eventually worked my way along a side street and back out to the highway via the street where the Chedraui was located.  I purchased my toothpaste and a cold drink at the Chedraui and then returned to my hotel to practice the guitar until it was time to go on my tour.

The driver picked me up at noon and we drove around Palenque, collecting other passengers.  There seemed to be a collection of hostels outside of town and we picked up a number of young people there.  One of the reasons I had decided to go with a tour instead of figuring out how to take a combi to Roberto Barrios by myself was that I was hoping for some company.  Unfortunately, everyone else in the group was under thirty and traveling with a companion.  Once we collected everyone, we drove for an hour or so up into the mountains.  The scenery was very lush and green.  Nature is really the attraction in this part of Chiapas, so it was sad to see the highway littered with hundreds of plastic bottles.  It would have taken a dump truck to collect them all.

Our driver let us off at Roberto Barrios, which appeared to be a private park.  There were a restaurant and some restrooms and may have been camping allowed, although no one was camping when we arrived.  The upper level was grassy and planted with young mango trees that would one day shade the place but weren’t yet large enough to offer much shelter.  It was very hot in the sun and somewhat steamy.  From the number of rivers and waterfalls in Chiapas, it was easy to surmise that it rained frequently.
Upper Waterfalls at Roberto Barrios

The river at Roberto Barrios drops over several ledges, forming a series of cascades with clear green pools below them.  Lines crisscrossed the pools so that one could pull oneself across if swimming was too frightening, although the current wasn’t very strong.  The water was quite clear and the setting lovely.  Most of our group stopped to swim at the first pool but I continued on down several more levels until I reached the end of the path.  We had three hours to spend there and I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with myself.
Cascade to Lower Level at Roberto Barrios

Second Level of Waterfalls at Roberto Barrios
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                I explored the park and took pictures for the first hour.  Then I changed into my bathing suit and swam in the upper pool.  The water was cool, but not freezing, and felt refreshing.  After my swim, it was nice to sit on a log in the shade and read for a bit while I dried off.  There was a slight warm breeze and the air felt soft and gentle.  Once I stopped dripping, I climbed back up to the restaurant and ate lunch in the shade of the restaurant.  It was very pleasant to sit there, sipping a cold beer.  I got so relaxed that I slept for two hours after they dropped me off at my hotel.  I completely skipped dinner and might have slept all night if a friend hadn’t started texting me about my upcoming trip to La Paz at the end of May.  As it was, I roused myself sufficiently to practice the guitar for half an hour and write about my day.

April 21, 2018

I got up very early so as to be able to eat breakfast before my tour left at 8:00.  The restaurant was all set up to serve breakfast, but they must have done it the night before because there wasn’t a soul around.

The van came for me at 8:00 and I was dismayed to see that I was the only passenger.  One of the joys of traveling alone is meeting new people, but that didn’t work so well in low season when the few people I met were all traveling with partners and spoke other languages.  While I can carry on a conversation in Spanish, most people don’t expect that from me, so they usually ignore me (except in Colombia where they are just so curious that they try, anyway.  I love Colombians!)

The driver took me the short distance to the archaeological site, paid my entrance fees (one for the national park and one for the site) and left me with instructions to meet him at noon under a giant tree in the museum parking lot.  The tour guides at the ruins have a monopoly, so none of the “tours” offered in Palenque actually provide anything more than transportation.  A resourceful person could save money and time by just taking combis to places.  Unless you really like swimming or drinking beer in palapas, you probably don’t need as much time at any of the waterfalls as the tours allow.
I arrived at the archaeological site about 8:15 and was immediately accosted by a woman offering guide service.  English speaking guides were expensive (2,600 pesos,) but Spanish speaking ones cost half that.  I didn’t want to spend 1,300 pesos, either, so I waited for other people to arrive.  

The Tombs of Pakal and the Red Queen
Eventually, it being slow season, we made a deal for three of us to hire a guide for 900 pesos.  I went with a younger couple from Mexico City.  They didn’t speak to me much, but I chatted with the guide.  He told us that “Palenque” is actually a Spanish word meaning “palisade.”  When the Spaniards first discovered the city, it was completely surrounded with trees, hence the name.
The Tomb of the Red Queen
Palenque is an older city than other famous sites in the area, such as Chichen Itza and Uxmal.  It was abandoned about 900 A.D.  Of course, there is no record of exactly why it was abandoned, but our guide offered a theory.  The Mayans built their structures of limestone held together and coated with cement.  To make the cement, they needed to heat limestone to a very high temperature.  It would take 125 pounds of wood to make one pound of cement.  There were 1500 buildings in Palenque.  Pakal’s tomb, alone, would have required 15,000 tons of cement.  That’s 1,875,000 tons of wood.  They would have denuded the forest for miles around to realize their construction.  Cutting the forest would have altered the climate.  Our guide posited that the climate changed, the rains decreased, crops failed, and the city with its dense population had to be abandoned.
Pakal's Tomb

Our guide walked us through the main plaza where the tombs of Pakal and the Red Queen were located and then took us through the palace.  The palace was very advanced for it’s time and had latrines with good drainage.  Palenque was not as impressive a site as Tikal or Chichen Itza. Like Tulum, the draw was its location.  While Tulum had the beach, Palenque had the jungle and waterfalls.  There were ten streams flowing through the city, most of which were canalized to prevent their eroding the foundations of nearby buildings.  Chiapas has always been a place of water, as it is the wettest state in Mexico.  Today, locals are up in arms about the rest of the country exploiting the streams of Chiapas for hydroelectric power.

Courtyard of the Palace


Palace Toilet
Early Archaeologists Carved Their Names












Pakal's Palace from Above
















Bridge Over One of the Canals










Palace Tower







Temples of the Cross
Ball Court at Palenque
                                                                         





Our guide left us at the beginning of the path that led upwards to the temples of the cross. The entire pathway was lined with vendors selling crafts.  No one was buying and I felt rather sorry for them, but not sorry enough to shop.  I climbed up to the next level and then to the top of one of the temples to take pictures of the scene below.  One could see the ball court clearly from up there and also across the valley to the mountains in the distance.  I had time to kill, so I explored the side paths to small temples hidden in the jungle and then walked down the main path, past some residential areas and waterfalls, to the exit.  Only 5% of the ruins in Palenque have been uncovered.  The rest are shrouded in dense jungle.  There will be work for archaeologists until our own cities have fallen to ruins.

Temple in the Jungle


Waterfalls at Palenque
The Museum at Palenque
Ceramic Incense Burner
















I took a quick run through the museum near the entrance.  The treasures from the Red Queen’s tomb were on tour somewhere in the United States, so there wasn’t much to see there except a lot of ceramic incense burners and Pakal’s monumental 25 ton sarcophagus, carved from a single piece of stone.  The Maya didn’t use gold, so their jewelry was made from precious stones such as jade and onyx.  Sixteenth century Spaniards mostly left the Mayan ruins alone because there was no gold to be plundered from them.

Pakal's Sarcophagus

Jade Jewelry
I had been told to meet my driver at noon under the big tree in front of the Museum.  Every tour company in town had told their customers the same thing and it was chaos.  I looked and looked for my driver but didn’t see him anywhere.  The couple with whom I had shared the guide likewise seemed to be abandoned.  The driver had taken my voucher, so I didn’t have a number to call to complain. 

Finally, I saw my driver from the day before.  He had spoken to me briefly that morning, so I knew he recognized me.  I asked him if he was going to take me, too, but he wasn’t going where I was going.  He did, however, seem concerned that I had been abandoned.  He called around, haggled with the other drivers and, as near as I could tell, arranged to squeeze me into another company’s tour as a personal favor.  I really appreciated that because, while I could easily have gotten back to Palenque, it would have been difficult to get to Misol-Ha and Agua Azul on my own without planning in advance.
It was 12:30 by the time everyone got a ride and then we drove for an hour to get to Misol-Ha.

The Waterfall at Misol-Ha

Cabins at Misol-Ha
















Looking Down on Agua Azul
Misol-Ha is a tall waterfall that plunges into a very deep, green pool.  There were a couple of shops and restaurants at the site and some cabins for rent.  We only spent 45 minutes there to take photos.  I had an ice cream and sat in the shade of the snack bar, drinking a soda.  It was very hot and humid.
Me with My New Hat at Agua Azul


Cascades at Agua Azul Go on for a Kilometer

A Calm Spot

More Waterfalls at Agua Azul








Another hour of driving brought us to the cascades of Agua Azul where the Paxilha river flows over a series of limestone ledges stretching over at least a kilometer.  It could hardly have been more beautiful if it were manmade.  The calcium carbonate and magnesium hydroxide dissolved into the water as it flows over the rocks in that region cause the light to reflect off the water, giving it its characteristic blue color.  A paved path followed the river and it was completely lined with shops, bars, and restaurants.  The path climbed steeply as I followed it all the way to the top of the cascades.  People were swimming in the quieter stretches.  It was very hot and I would have liked to swim, too, but I had no one to watch my things while I went in the water.  I did stop and dangle my feet in the water at one point and a small boy swam up to me pretending to be a fish.

It got quieter and quieter as I ascended.  Every other shop was selling embroidered blouses.  I had looked at some in Merida, but the prices were higher than at home in La Cruz, so I passed.  I had been offered better prices in Chiapas, so I decided to stop into a stall up where there weren’t very many people.  I was able to buy a nice sleeveless blouse for 150 pesos (about $8.00.)

My Very Hot Michelada
My shopping done, I chose a bar and ordered a Michelada.  They had no ice and liberally lined the inside of the glass with hot sauce and then
















dipped it in chili powder.  It was the spiciest Michelada I had ever drunk.  It was a good thing I had plenty of time to burn because I had to sip that drink very slowly.

Shops Lined the Pathway at Agua Azul


When I had finished my drink and said goodbye to the proprietor, I strolled back down the hill to the van.  It was steamy.  I had seldom sweat so much from so little exertion.  I could barely keep my eyes open during the hour-and-a-half drive back to Palenque.  I was quite pleased that I was one of the first passengers to be dropped off.  I couldn’t wait to get into the inviting pool at the Hotel Ciudad Real.


I swam, showered, and then had dinner in the hotel restaurant where I was, once again, the only customer.  I ordered a cheese burrito with arrachera strips, which turned out to be a hearty steak quesadilla.  I was quite hungry, having eaten nothing but junk food all day.  I was also sleepy.  I went to bed early.

April 22, 2018

Sunday morning was leisurely.  My bus didn’t leave until noon, so I had plenty of time to pack and eat a nice pancake breakfast in the hotel restaurant.  Most pancakes in Mexico are very thick, rather dry, and much sweeter than those in the United States.  These were tender and delicious, even without butter.  If there was one thing I missed about the USA, it was salted butter.

Novel Use for Coke Bottles
Flowering Trees in Tabasco














The hotel called me a taxi at 11:00 and I took the short ride to the ADO station, arriving nearly an hour early.  The airport shuttle was a minibus and it was quite comfortable.  The ride to the Villahermosa airport took almost exactly two hours.  As we passed from Chiapas into Tabasco it got dryer and some of the grass was actually brown.  We saw many cattle grazing amid lovely pink flowering trees.

The Villahermosa Airport
The Villahermosa airport was small and easily navigated.  I had time to grab a meatball sandwich at Subway before heading to my gate.  

Note That the Monitors Do Not Display Flight Info
The flight to Mexico City left at 4:00 and it took a little over an hour.  I arrived at Gate 75 and my next flight was leaving from 75D.  I stayed in the gate where we had arrived and charged my phone.  At some point, I got a pizza for dinner.  I was rather annoyed that the monitors showing departures spent most of the time displaying ads.  You really had to pay attention to see your flight.  I kept checking that the gate hadn’t changed, but really didn’t have time to look at the other information as it flashed by.  About half an hour before my flight was due to leave at 8:15, I started to get concerned that my flight hadn’t been called.  I looked carefully to see if it had been delayed and saw that it said, “Last call.”  Apparently, the departure gates 75 were in a different place and they didn’t call the flights where I was.  I asked an employee for directions and then sprinted through the airport.  I was the last person to board the plane.  It had been entirely too close!

Another short flight later, we landed in Puerto Vallarta.  My luggage arrived before I did and I was quickly on my way.  I had never arrived at the domestic terminal there before and was disoriented at first when the exit debauched into a seemingly exit-less room with no taxi counter.  I should have recognized it as the gauntlet of timeshare hawkers such as I had experienced when arriving internationally.  Eventually, I detected a sliding door and made my escape.


It was after 10:00 and too late to take a bus back to La Cruz.  Airport taxis are always expensive and the ones in Puerto Vallarta are more of a rip-off than most.  The collectivos don’t go beyond Nuevo Vallarta and a regular taxi wanted to charge me 877 pesos (twice what I paid to fly to Cancun.)  Knowing that it cost 400 pesos in the other direction, I argued with them.  Eventually, we settled on 700 pesos.  It was a slow night.  The taxi brought me to my door and it was very good to finally be home.


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