Sweat. A tiny, cold rivulet runs down my back in the baking sun. At 8:30am, the Mexican weather is clearly taking the piss.
We’re waiting for a coach just outside the hotel lobby, to take us on some kind of magical adventure to some ancient ruins. It’s been almost a year since I saw ancient ruins (in Rhodes) so there is definitely some excitement in me somewhere.
Mercifully the coach is air-conditioned. We depart.
Not a lot occurs on the journey. A light continental breakfast of cakes and unlimited free beer. I’m not sure where Mexico got this particular impression of the European diet, but I approve. Three or for cervezas later and my mind becomes blissfully numb to whatever shit is going down at home and on facebook currently, and I find myself able to look forward to the day.
The ancient ruins must wait, though, as two-and-a-half hours later the coach pulls into a car park near a cenote. Mexico has an astonishingly large network of these underground rivers, and the state of Yucatan (Mayan for “I don’t understand what the hell you’re saying to me”, unwittingly named as such by the Conquistadors because it was the response they always got when they asked – in Spanish, bless their naive little cotton stockings – “what is this place called?”) boasts the most impressive of the lot. I’m not sure if this one is it, but it IS huge. A sink hole in the rocky ground, about 15 metres across and falling maybe 40 metres to the surface of the water. Trees grow right to the edge, their long roots dangling long, long over the lip and down to tickle the top of the pool. The water itself is deep, over 150 feet to the bottom, but slightly murky, limiting visibility to a couple of yards. Finally as body of water here that is refreshingly cool to swim in, hidden from direct sunlight as it is. And a diving platform, 10 metres up.
Strangely enough, the fear here is completely the opposite to a rollercoaster. I feel nothing on the ascent, nothing even as I peer over the lip. Nothing as I run and leap. And then, my mind asks me what the f*ck I think I am doing thank-you-very-much, and perhaps I would like to let it take charge of me once more. The surface rushes up like smooth, solid obsidian, and I can’t help but flinch in the instant before I strike. The air I so carefully held in me is inconveniently forced out of me, and I fight the urge to inhale, looking up to the surface only two metres or so above me, and I swim, breaking through and sucking something fantastic ban into my lungs. Of course, I ignore my brain and repeat the jump three more times, feeling slightly more masculine each time until I see a girl of about 6 do it, at which point my ego deflates like a stuck balloon.
We move on. After a brief buffet lunch in front of some traditional Mayan dancers from can clock their fingers, apparently even in sync, but little else, we make our way to Chichen Itzá.
The 5th modern wonder of the world is somewhat underwhelming. Having seen some colossal forts in India and beautiful temples in Japan, my incredibly American attitude towards historical structures is a little disappointed that the Mayan pyramid is not.. well, huge. The ball court is, however, and the fact that the losing team gets executed is intriguing. I’ll get on to the FA about that idea. There are many pillars and carvings. However, what the pyramid lacks in astronomical size, it makes up for in astronomical nature, the number of steps on its 4 sides adding up to 365 days, the sun on the equinox lighting up a particular stone snake at a particular time of day. Some seems more coincidental. There are 9 tiers to the structure, yes, but that doesn’t necessarily mean the Mayans knew there were 9 planets.. especially as Pluto is now a mere asteroid or whatever.
Thunder threatens as we make to leave, and as ever thunder proves to not be one who makes idle threats, opening up on us just as we clamber back on to the coach with something that apparently is called “rain” but which I struggle to resolve with the usually dry climate. Another two hours and innumerable free beers later, and it’s back to the hotel for a welcome dinner (complete with Mariachi band), a quick write up of the previous day, and bed. Now it is the morning of day 4 and I sit, having been awake since half 5, with a coffee and cake, free internet and breakfast looming. Stay tuned.
