This time we stay in a cheap Airbnb place on the edge of the town. It's a quiet neighbourhood, we can cook, and we can cycle over to the beach area to visit the small museum there. Otherwise the modern town of Cancun is completely unremarkable. It does hit the headlines briefly after we leave - for the highest deaths in one day from drug-gang killings. For an economy built on mass tourism, Cancun might just be on the edge of disaster.
Heading west across the peninsula there isn't much choice but to take the main road to Valladolid. It's a hot sultry Saturday and when we stop for lunch a big storm passes over. We are happily sat in the shelter of a village bandstand and can keep dry. We cycle on and start looking for camping. The landscape is flat and forested. The trees are not tall but grow tightly together and so offer no place for a tent. We stop to investigate some tracks that woodcutters have made and eventually find a small one where we can hide the tent just out of view of the road. In the morning a pickup draws up whilst we're breakfasting. Five men with machetes jump out. I hold my breath. They cross the road and disappear into the forest.
We both like Valladolid instantly, so we're happy we have booked an Airbnb place for four nights. The region here is dotted with cenotes, large natural swimming pools formed by openings in the limestone that covers the northern Yucatan peninsula. These cenotes were essential for settlements as there are no rivers in the northern half of the Yucatan. The town is full of old colonial buildings and has a grand shaded main plaza.
Not far from here are the ruins of Chichen Itza or Chicken Pizza as it is referred to by British tourists unable to pronounce more than monosyllables in foreign languages. We cycle to the town of Piste and stop at a faded motel. This allows us to rise early and get in the queue at the entrance before all the tour buses arrive. The ruins are extensive and impressive and, as we've brought a picnic, we can take our time exploring. A lot of the tourists are spending time at the great swathe of souvenir stalls which are all strategically placed along the shady pathways. The days are baking hot here so a siesta is required.
To reach Merida we get off the main road and go over to Izamal, a designated 'Pueblo Magico'. To promote tourism, the government has designated many old colonial towns with this title. This was the first. The lovely town, painted in ochre and white, has an oversized Franciscan monastery built on what was the site of a Mayan temple. A pyramid still exists and you can climb this one to get sweeping views over the very flat Yucatan.
In The fabulous old colonial city of Merida we first stay with a Warm Showers host. Ken is an American living here with his wife, who is away. There's a young French cycle-touring couple also staying and we rustle up dinners together. Ken's place is a renovated colonial house that is very peaceful. We enjoy the city a lot but our minds are on other things. Gayle's mum is ill and we plan to return home to help look after her. We have booked a flight to Manchester.
Meanwhile our friend Pam has been in touch and tells us she has a good friend, Carolyn, who would probably host us here in Merida. Sure enough, Carolyn invites us over to her colourful single-storey house. She has spare rooms around a courtyard out the back. That evening she takes us to a locals' bar which has a garden and live music. The place is jammed and it's great fun. We spend a coupe of days with Carolyn entertaining us, a different place, another band.
Merida was built from the wealth brought by the trade in sisal. This is a fibre made from the leaves of agave cacti and it makes good seafaring rope. The trade grew rapidly and much of the peninsula was cleared for agave plants using indentured Mayan labour. The advent of artificial fibres ended the trade.
We're grateful for Ken and Carolyn's hospitality here but now anxious to get home. We bus it back to Cancun for the flight to Manchester.
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| a life free of violence |
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| bit of a tight squeeze |
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| Valladolid |
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| folk art at an incredible house museum of traditional Mexican crafts |
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| swimming in a cenote |
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| in a nearby village |
To reach Merida we get off the main road and go over to Izamal, a designated 'Pueblo Magico'. To promote tourism, the government has designated many old colonial towns with this title. This was the first. The lovely town, painted in ochre and white, has an oversized Franciscan monastery built on what was the site of a Mayan temple. A pyramid still exists and you can climb this one to get sweeping views over the very flat Yucatan.
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| to say cycling on the peninsula is unexciting is a gross understatement |
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| typical Mayan village house |
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| Izamal |
In The fabulous old colonial city of Merida we first stay with a Warm Showers host. Ken is an American living here with his wife, who is away. There's a young French cycle-touring couple also staying and we rustle up dinners together. Ken's place is a renovated colonial house that is very peaceful. We enjoy the city a lot but our minds are on other things. Gayle's mum is ill and we plan to return home to help look after her. We have booked a flight to Manchester.
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| Merida |
Meanwhile our friend Pam has been in touch and tells us she has a good friend, Carolyn, who would probably host us here in Merida. Sure enough, Carolyn invites us over to her colourful single-storey house. She has spare rooms around a courtyard out the back. That evening she takes us to a locals' bar which has a garden and live music. The place is jammed and it's great fun. We spend a coupe of days with Carolyn entertaining us, a different place, another band.
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| Carolyn is as colourful as her house |
Merida was built from the wealth brought by the trade in sisal. This is a fibre made from the leaves of agave cacti and it makes good seafaring rope. The trade grew rapidly and much of the peninsula was cleared for agave plants using indentured Mayan labour. The advent of artificial fibres ended the trade.
We're grateful for Ken and Carolyn's hospitality here but now anxious to get home. We bus it back to Cancun for the flight to Manchester.
