We are hungry after watching the Festival of Light, and in need of a drink, but we don’t want to give the Mayaland Hotel any more of our money, and we doubt that their food would be much better than their rooms. We decide to drive into the small town a couple of miles away and find somewhere for dinner.
There are several local Mexican restaurants on the main street. They all look the same, devoid of any charm or atmosphere with their plastic chairs and tables covered with red and white check plastic table cloths. On top of the tables sit small glass salt cellars containing equal amounts of rice and salt, and capped with a tiny chrome lid that is rusting at the edges. Next to the salt pot there is a flimsy transparent plastic napkin holder containing tiny cheap paper napkins that are totally incapable of absorbing even the smallest spill. On one wall is a faded poster of the beach at Cozumel and on another the ever present television tuned to a football game or a raucous game show.
It is a dismal choice of dining establishments and there is nothing to choose between any of them, particularly as they are all empty. Finally we notice one, set back a little from the street which is packed with locals.
We venture in and manage to grab a table by the window. I use the term window loosely, because there is no glass in the large hole where a window should be, but that really cuts down on cleaning expenses, and affords a nice breeze. It is a cavernous room, with a fairly rough looking bunch of townsfolk crowded round the tables eating and drinking. But they are friendly and several raise their beer bottles in mock salute at the adventurous gringos. It has to be good, we think, and it is. We have an excellent meal with beers for $7 each.
The food may be good in the little restaurant we find in the village outside of Chitchen Itza, but the highlight of the evening is the entertainment in the street.
It starts with a lot of shouting and yelling and it soon becomes apparent that a fight is brewing somewhere out of sight. As the sounds become more threatening, everyone in our restaurant, except us, goes outside and lines the street. Fortunately we have the window table and a good view of the proceedings. Eventually the antagonists appear. There is a group of 6 youths threatening one very large man with nothing on but a pair of jeans. The large man is backing down the street while several of the youths are urging on their biggest member to fight. They stand behind him and push him into the large man who does nothing, but none the less looks very threatening. All the time the youths are yelling “Puto” at the large man, slang for “queer” in Mexico.
Eventually the “Puto” disappears and the youths return to wherever it was they came from. But 5 minutes later the “Puto” returns perched on the back of a scooter wobbling down the road. The scooter is being driven by what is now known in polite circles as a transgender person. She is wearing very tight pedal pushers in a brightly colored Pucci type print, and a low cut T shirt showing off a perfectly shaped and very ample bosom, proving that she has had at least the first part of the transgender process completed.
On her feet are a pair of bright red 6 inch heel slides that would make driving a scooter impossible for most mortals. Her face is badly pockmarked which even the amount of make up she has applied fails to cover. Her lips are huge and heavily painted in red that has apparently been carefully chosen to match her shoes. Her hair is teased to within an inch of its life and dyed blond with occasional black tips. She is mesmerizing, but seems totally out of place in this Mexican backwater of a town. She brings the scooter to a halt outside our restaurant and they both dismount.
The “Puto” is a big man but his woman towers over him. Together they set off looking for the youths that started the trouble. The “Puto” strides down the middle of the street, with his “girlfriend” next to him who walks with amazing femininity in her high heels. But we are in no doubt that the girlfriend will be a match for any of the youths. It is beginning to feel like a scene from “High Noon”. There is considerable shouting in the distance and the atmosphere is taught with tension
At this point we decide it might be time to make a quiet exit and we leave for the calmer environments of the Mayaland Hotel.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Chichen Itza
Everything we have heard and read about Chichen Itza warns of the crowds that start around 10 am with the arrival of the coach tours. We chose to stay at the Mayaland Hotel, so that we could walk into the site at 8am when it opens, and hopefully avoid the crowds. However we have arrived earlier than planned and decide to see what it is like in the late afternoon. We are glad we did, because the coaches have left, it is busy but not crowded and we can enjoy the site at our leisure.
The scale of Chichen Itza is staggering. It was built in the 9th century and was capital of the Maya Empire. In its heyday it covered 25 square kilometers, but for reasons that are still not fully understood it was abandoned 200 years later. The religious, cultural and administrative center covered 6 square kilometers and was located close to the areas where the elite had their carefully decorated and brightly painted palaces. Outside of the central area up to 100,000 citizens lived in their thatched cottages. The city is still so important to the Mayan people that it is the site of a peregrination to this day.
We can sense that power as we walk round the grounds and view the imposing castle of Kukulcan (the pyramid shaped building that we all recognize from photos).
The scale of Chichen Itza is staggering. It was built in the 9th century and was capital of the Maya Empire. In its heyday it covered 25 square kilometers, but for reasons that are still not fully understood it was abandoned 200 years later. The religious, cultural and administrative center covered 6 square kilometers and was located close to the areas where the elite had their carefully decorated and brightly painted palaces. Outside of the central area up to 100,000 citizens lived in their thatched cottages. The city is still so important to the Mayan people that it is the site of a peregrination to this day.
We can sense that power as we walk round the grounds and view the imposing castle of Kukulcan (the pyramid shaped building that we all recognize from photos).
It is amazing to think that all of this was built without the use of metal tools.
Chichen Itza is also famous for its huge ball court. Here the hoop must be thirty feet up a vertical wall, and is quite small. It must have been very difficult to get the ball through it. This ball court is actually carved with the depictions of the captain of the losing team being beheaded and clearly shows their belief that blood from the beheaded fed the ground and allowed for good crops.
In the evening there is a Festival of Light which is very disappointing. The lighting is amateur and vulgar in its bright purples and reds, more befitting a Las Vegas Hotel that one of the “New Seven Wonders of the World”
Sunday, October 25, 2009
The Mayaland Hotel at Chichen Itza
There is a toll road to Chichen Itza, but we take the old road passing through several towns and villages. The drive takes a couple of hours and we arrive at the Hotel around 3pm. There is a town a couple of miles away full of inexpensive hotels and restaurants, but we have booked the more expensive Mayaland Hotel, which is right next to the Archeological site and affords access through the back entrance, allowing you to beat the crowds in the morning
The Mayaland Hotel bills itself as a 5 star hotel, which proves that there is no Trades Description Act in Mexico. It is set in the most beautiful grounds of over 100 acres of tropical gardens, and from a distance the hotel looks enchanting. But up close and personal it is anything but. Our experience starts at check in when the front desk tries to get us to upgrade our room to a more expensive one. When we decline, he tells us that they are sold out of our rooms and we have been automatically upgraded!
The only nice thing we can say about the room is that it has a lovely balcony overlooking the gardens. As far as the 5 Star experience is concerned, here are some of the things we found:
Paint peeling on the corridor walls
No lights in the corridors or outside our room after 9.00 pm.
No phone in the room
No internet in the room
The yellow bedspreads are filthy
The white towels are thin and grey
The bathroom boasts only one soap, which is the smallest piece of soap known to man – and has to be carried from the shower to the washbasin
No free water provided, despite the fact the water supply is unfit to drink
If you get to breakfast after 9.30 you are turned away.
The Mayaland Hotel bills itself as a 5 star hotel, which proves that there is no Trades Description Act in Mexico. It is set in the most beautiful grounds of over 100 acres of tropical gardens, and from a distance the hotel looks enchanting. But up close and personal it is anything but. Our experience starts at check in when the front desk tries to get us to upgrade our room to a more expensive one. When we decline, he tells us that they are sold out of our rooms and we have been automatically upgraded!
The only nice thing we can say about the room is that it has a lovely balcony overlooking the gardens. As far as the 5 Star experience is concerned, here are some of the things we found:
Paint peeling on the corridor walls
No lights in the corridors or outside our room after 9.00 pm.
No phone in the room
No internet in the room
The yellow bedspreads are filthy
The white towels are thin and grey
The bathroom boasts only one soap, which is the smallest piece of soap known to man – and has to be carried from the shower to the washbasin
No free water provided, despite the fact the water supply is unfit to drink
If you get to breakfast after 9.30 you are turned away.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Farewell to Merida
Sunday Feb 8th
We are due to drive to Chichen Itza today, but Merida still has a hold on us.
First of all there is the farewell breakfast with Joany presiding over it in her usual style.
It has taken me four days to realize that she reminds me of an oversized Judge Judy, constantly interrupting our stories, and telling us all when to speak and what to do. During our stay she tells us of the many house rules, and lays down the law emphatically. We realise that while we all laugh at her behaviour, we are all a little intimidated too.
Bob and Nancy are also leaving today so we say farewell to one and all
Then we have to walk around the town square for the last time. Sunday is another big day in Merida. The streets are again closed, this time for bicycle riding. There are stands renting out bicycles and it seems half of the local townsfolk are here. Joany had said she often goes bike riding on Sunday morning and we were looking forward to seeing her perched on the saddle, but in the end she didn’t go.
The square is filled with handicraft stalls, and the street around it is packed with taco stands, food booths and tables and chairs. One side of the street has a children’s play being performed. It is most elaborate with lots of costumes and music. We think they are performing Sinbad but are not sure. The dozens of children watching are totally enthralled. Those not theatrically inclined can watch the fire eater on one corner or the woman mime dressed rather fabulously as a tree, complete with huge roots spreading out from her feet.
It is certainly a fun day but we have to get on
We are due to drive to Chichen Itza today, but Merida still has a hold on us.
First of all there is the farewell breakfast with Joany presiding over it in her usual style.
It has taken me four days to realize that she reminds me of an oversized Judge Judy, constantly interrupting our stories, and telling us all when to speak and what to do. During our stay she tells us of the many house rules, and lays down the law emphatically. We realise that while we all laugh at her behaviour, we are all a little intimidated too.
Bob and Nancy are also leaving today so we say farewell to one and all
Then we have to walk around the town square for the last time. Sunday is another big day in Merida. The streets are again closed, this time for bicycle riding. There are stands renting out bicycles and it seems half of the local townsfolk are here. Joany had said she often goes bike riding on Sunday morning and we were looking forward to seeing her perched on the saddle, but in the end she didn’t go.
The square is filled with handicraft stalls, and the street around it is packed with taco stands, food booths and tables and chairs. One side of the street has a children’s play being performed. It is most elaborate with lots of costumes and music. We think they are performing Sinbad but are not sure. The dozens of children watching are totally enthralled. Those not theatrically inclined can watch the fire eater on one corner or the woman mime dressed rather fabulously as a tree, complete with huge roots spreading out from her feet.
It is certainly a fun day but we have to get on
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Our last day in Merida
Joany’s breakfast club is working well. We are going to spend our last day exploring Merida on foot, and are in no hurry to leave the breakfast table. Nor, it seems, is anyone else, as we all sit and chat until after 10.
Merida is a delightful town to wander round, full of interesting buildings, and busy shopping streets. Our favourite place though, is the Governors Palace, situated on the main square
It is a two story building, painted green, around a courtyard of marble tiles and giant potted palms.
Merida is a delightful town to wander round, full of interesting buildings, and busy shopping streets. Our favourite place though, is the Governors Palace, situated on the main square
It is a two story building, painted green, around a courtyard of marble tiles and giant potted palms.
The walls are lined with murals by a local artist who was obviously inspired by Diego Rivera. Painted in the 60’s and 70’s, the paintings are art deco in feel with heavily stylized figures, depicting the Spanish Invasion and their struggles with the Mayans.
There is a stunning room that runs the entire length of the upper floor, facing the square. The room is at least 25 feet tall, with amazing hanging chandeliers and a black and white tiled marble floor. Huge double shuttered windows run the entire length. Between each window is a painting matching the size of the windows. There are a few sofas against the inside wall, otherwise the room is empty. It is also empty of people and we soak up the atmosphere, enjoying the paintings and the wonderful views of the square and the cathedral through the open windows.
Amazingly there is no entrance fee and the only security is two guards posted at the front entrance. We are learning that many of the wonderful buildings and museums we come across on our travels in Mexico are free.
We continue to wander the streets admiring the old colonial houses, when we stumble on a lovely 17th century home converted into a lovely small hotel, called La Mision de Fray Diego.
It has the most beautiful courtyard we have seen in Merida and the staff are gracious enough to allow us to enjoy it for a while, before we return to Joany’s Bed and breakfast
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Our last evening in Merida
Saturday evening in Merida is a major event, with the main square and several of the streets closed for the festivities. There are live bands and dancing in the streets, and all the restaurants fill the streets with their tables. It is one long promenade. We want to join in the festivities but can’t resist another meal at Casa de Piedra before we do.
We are greeted like old friends when we arrive and our waiter fetches the chef who comes out to talk to us. It turns out he was the master chef for seven years at Absynthe in San Francisco and lived just a few blocks from us. We have a wonderful conversation with him and he tells us how he missed Merida so much he had to return, but now he is here he is missing San Francisco . He cooks another great meal for us. This time I start with scallops which are seared crispy on the outside but somehow perfectly cooked inside. I follow this with another wonderful fish dish. This chef knows how to cook fish.
We then return to Merida where the streets are full of people, restaurants have spilled out onto the streets, bands are playing everywhere, and a few brave souls are dancing. The central square is packed and there is entertainment everywhere. Again we notice that the evening may be enjoyed by the tourists, but it is all really about the locals.
The party goes on until 1pm, but we don’t last that long
We are so impressed with this city. It knows how to do things right
We are greeted like old friends when we arrive and our waiter fetches the chef who comes out to talk to us. It turns out he was the master chef for seven years at Absynthe in San Francisco and lived just a few blocks from us. We have a wonderful conversation with him and he tells us how he missed Merida so much he had to return, but now he is here he is missing San Francisco . He cooks another great meal for us. This time I start with scallops which are seared crispy on the outside but somehow perfectly cooked inside. I follow this with another wonderful fish dish. This chef knows how to cook fish.
We then return to Merida where the streets are full of people, restaurants have spilled out onto the streets, bands are playing everywhere, and a few brave souls are dancing. The central square is packed and there is entertainment everywhere. Again we notice that the evening may be enjoyed by the tourists, but it is all really about the locals.
The party goes on until 1pm, but we don’t last that long
We are so impressed with this city. It knows how to do things right
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Our last breakfast with Joany
Breakfast is becoming quite the little social club with the five of us making the best of each others company and enjoying the moment. We have bumped into Bob and Nancy a couple of times outside of the B and B and shared our thoughts on Joany. So now when Joany arrives in the very same embroidered jeans that she was wearing yesterday there has to be a concerted effort to keep a straight face.
In an effort to divert our thoughts away from Joany’s jeans,Nancy reveals that she doesn’t actually serve breakfast at her Bed and Breakfast. She is the antitheses of Joany and does not want to socialize with her guests . She is famous for leaving her guests notes on a large blackboard. Her place is out in the country and she keeps chickens and ducks as pets.
Bob and Nancy spend part of the week together and part of it apart. Bob bought two condos and built two more and lives off the rents from those. He is a contractor but only works infrequently and then only for trade, and the only trade he is interested in, is Art. He is also an enthusiastic musician and has with him a ukulele. It is a beautiful instrument handcrafted out of a cigar box by a well known craftsman in Kentucky. It is signed by the artist and dedicated to Bob.
Bob tells us that he takes it with him everywhere as it is the least expensive instrument he owns. He is not shy about bringing it to the table and playing something for us. We have noticed him playing over the last couple of days, whenever he has a quiet moment.
Brad tells us that he is a grant writer and does a lot of work for aids charities. He can travel a lot because his work can be done anywhere as long as he has his computer with him
It is a diverse crowd, but somehow it works.
In an effort to divert our thoughts away from Joany’s jeans,Nancy reveals that she doesn’t actually serve breakfast at her Bed and Breakfast. She is the antitheses of Joany and does not want to socialize with her guests . She is famous for leaving her guests notes on a large blackboard. Her place is out in the country and she keeps chickens and ducks as pets.
Bob and Nancy spend part of the week together and part of it apart. Bob bought two condos and built two more and lives off the rents from those. He is a contractor but only works infrequently and then only for trade, and the only trade he is interested in, is Art. He is also an enthusiastic musician and has with him a ukulele. It is a beautiful instrument handcrafted out of a cigar box by a well known craftsman in Kentucky. It is signed by the artist and dedicated to Bob.
Bob tells us that he takes it with him everywhere as it is the least expensive instrument he owns. He is not shy about bringing it to the table and playing something for us. We have noticed him playing over the last couple of days, whenever he has a quiet moment.
Brad tells us that he is a grant writer and does a lot of work for aids charities. He can travel a lot because his work can be done anywhere as long as he has his computer with him
It is a diverse crowd, but somehow it works.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Casa de Piedra at Hacienda Xcanatun
We have heard of a restaurant outside of town called Casa de Piedra at Hacienda Xcanatun and drive out to find it. It is in a small village on the outskirts of Merida, and when we turn off the main road we are convinced we must be in the wrong place. It is a working class Mexican village with a dirt football pitch serving as the town square. There are a few youths trying to skateboard on a patch of concrete, a couple of Datsuns from the early 80’s and a beat up Mustang parked around the square. The houses are all one and two room low square buildings with nothing to recommend them to anyone.
We drive round the village square but there is no sign for, or of, the restaurant. We are convinced we are in the wrong place, but then we see a 12 ft wall painted a rather wonderful deep red color down one of the streets. When we reach it there is a beautiful ironwork gate opening on to a driveway that leads to the hotel and restaurant.
The hotel is quite fabulous, all painted in the same deep red color, with huge rooms and very high ceilings. The grounds are full of beautiful old trees and palm trees, subtly lit.
Hacienda Xcanatun was built in the 18th century, for the owners of a factory producing sisal. The hacienda is now an upscale hotel, while Casa de Piedra, the restaurant, is located in the old factory building next door. It has been renovated beautifully. The ceilings are 30 ft tall, and the old machinery and pulleys are still there, but restored and painted black. The walls are faux painted in subtle shades of blue and grey, and the tables are beautifully presented with flowers and starched tablecloths.
I do not usually write a restaurant review as part of my travel muse, but in this case I can’t help it. It is the best food we have ever eaten in Mexico.
I start with a duck and pine nut pate. The portion is huge, and it is served with a wonderful mustard sauce. It is terrific and brings back memories of French picnics.
Next I have a fish steak, the fish is called Bruja and it is the most perfectly cooked piece of fish you could imagine. It is served on a bed of leek puree, and is delicious.
Gordon has duck in a chocolate and mango mole, a fantastic combination that we have never come across before.
The restaurant is busy the entire evening. We get there at 8pm, and there is a large group of elderly tourists, dressed to the nines and dripping in jewels who are obviously there on some sort of very expensive coach tour. But, more interestingly, Mexicans arrive to eat throughout the evening. These were not the locals we had seen in the village, but immaculately tailored men oozing power, with their expensively dressed and overly made up spouses. They ordered without looking at the menu, demanded a great deal of attention, and were incredibly rude to the waiters.
A pianist and saxophone played from 9pm on and were a perfect accompaniment for a great evening
We drive round the village square but there is no sign for, or of, the restaurant. We are convinced we are in the wrong place, but then we see a 12 ft wall painted a rather wonderful deep red color down one of the streets. When we reach it there is a beautiful ironwork gate opening on to a driveway that leads to the hotel and restaurant.
The hotel is quite fabulous, all painted in the same deep red color, with huge rooms and very high ceilings. The grounds are full of beautiful old trees and palm trees, subtly lit.
Hacienda Xcanatun was built in the 18th century, for the owners of a factory producing sisal. The hacienda is now an upscale hotel, while Casa de Piedra, the restaurant, is located in the old factory building next door. It has been renovated beautifully. The ceilings are 30 ft tall, and the old machinery and pulleys are still there, but restored and painted black. The walls are faux painted in subtle shades of blue and grey, and the tables are beautifully presented with flowers and starched tablecloths.
I do not usually write a restaurant review as part of my travel muse, but in this case I can’t help it. It is the best food we have ever eaten in Mexico.
I start with a duck and pine nut pate. The portion is huge, and it is served with a wonderful mustard sauce. It is terrific and brings back memories of French picnics.
Next I have a fish steak, the fish is called Bruja and it is the most perfectly cooked piece of fish you could imagine. It is served on a bed of leek puree, and is delicious.
Gordon has duck in a chocolate and mango mole, a fantastic combination that we have never come across before.
The restaurant is busy the entire evening. We get there at 8pm, and there is a large group of elderly tourists, dressed to the nines and dripping in jewels who are obviously there on some sort of very expensive coach tour. But, more interestingly, Mexicans arrive to eat throughout the evening. These were not the locals we had seen in the village, but immaculately tailored men oozing power, with their expensively dressed and overly made up spouses. They ordered without looking at the menu, demanded a great deal of attention, and were incredibly rude to the waiters.
A pianist and saxophone played from 9pm on and were a perfect accompaniment for a great evening
Monday, October 12, 2009
A Trip to Izamal
The guide book I read before coming here said that Izamal is a beautiful city as every building in the Historical Center is painted gold, including the Convent. It sounds quite amazing and we are looking forward to seeing it. The drive takes a little over an hour and we pass through three attractive towns on the way. We are learning that the one problem with driving ourselves is that when we reach a town, the road automatically takes us into the central square, and leaves us there. We drive around the square and there are always eight exits (two at each corner) and none of them is ever signposted. We have to ask directions from a local. The other problem we discover is that the locals are always anxious to please and feel that an answer of “I don’t know” is rude. Consequently they just make up something, often sending us in completely the wrong direction, which they consider to be polite, but we find extremely annoying.
Izamal is the “City of the Hills” and is thought to be the oldest Spanish city in Yucatan. Its history is dominated by religious events. We live near San Francisco which is also the City of Hills. There is no comparison. The hills of Izamal are only noticeable if you are riding a bicycle. Izamal is located in the middle of the Peninsula . It was conquered by the Spanish and it was the monks in their eagerness to convert the Indians to Catholicism who gave the city its religious distinction. To this day, the people of Izamal are devoted to the Immaculate Virgin.
True to form the road takes us into the square at the heart of the city, where we realize that the guide book was using a little artistic license with the use of the word “gold”. Every building is painted a very bright sunshine yellow. It is very colourful but gives a completely different effect than the one we had expected, that of a city of gold.
The square is dominated by a Convent that was built from and over one of the Mayan Pyramids. The convent is famous for its murals and its central courtyard, which is second only in size to that of the Vatican. We are lucky enough to arrive as the monks (it’s called a convent but it is full of monks!) are congregating in a small chapel for their mid day service. The chapel is lovely, built on the top of a small hill with large double doors on both sides, open to the surrounding trees. Inside there are painted murals, an altar full of flowers and a huge statue of the Immaculate Virgin. The only jarring note is that all the chairs for the monks are red plastic chairs emblazoned with the Coca Cola logo.
The monks generously invite us to be a part of the service, and offer us our own Coca Cola Chairs. The service is quite rousing with two monks playing guitars and the congregation singing along as the Virgin is wheeled forward from her shrine. We feel a little out of place and quietly leave.
Izamal is the “City of the Hills” and is thought to be the oldest Spanish city in Yucatan. Its history is dominated by religious events. We live near San Francisco which is also the City of Hills. There is no comparison. The hills of Izamal are only noticeable if you are riding a bicycle. Izamal is located in the middle of the Peninsula . It was conquered by the Spanish and it was the monks in their eagerness to convert the Indians to Catholicism who gave the city its religious distinction. To this day, the people of Izamal are devoted to the Immaculate Virgin.
True to form the road takes us into the square at the heart of the city, where we realize that the guide book was using a little artistic license with the use of the word “gold”. Every building is painted a very bright sunshine yellow. It is very colourful but gives a completely different effect than the one we had expected, that of a city of gold.
The square is dominated by a Convent that was built from and over one of the Mayan Pyramids. The convent is famous for its murals and its central courtyard, which is second only in size to that of the Vatican. We are lucky enough to arrive as the monks (it’s called a convent but it is full of monks!) are congregating in a small chapel for their mid day service. The chapel is lovely, built on the top of a small hill with large double doors on both sides, open to the surrounding trees. Inside there are painted murals, an altar full of flowers and a huge statue of the Immaculate Virgin. The only jarring note is that all the chairs for the monks are red plastic chairs emblazoned with the Coca Cola logo.
The monks generously invite us to be a part of the service, and offer us our own Coca Cola Chairs. The service is quite rousing with two monks playing guitars and the congregation singing along as the Virgin is wheeled forward from her shrine. We feel a little out of place and quietly leave.
A Trip to Izamal
The guide book I read before coming here said that Izamal is a beautiful city as every building in the Historical Center is painted gold, including the Convent. It sounds quite amazing and we are looking forward to seeing it. The drive takes a little over an hour and we pass through three attractive towns on the way. We are learning that the one problem with driving ourselves is that when we reach a town, the road automatically takes us into the central square, and leaves us there. We drive around the square and there are always eight exits (two at each corner) and none of them is ever signposted. We have to ask directions from a local. The other problem we discover is that the locals are always anxious to please and feel that an answer of “I don’t know” is rude. Consequently they just make up something, often sending us in completely the wrong direction, which they consider to be polite, but we find extremely annoying.
Izamal is the “City of the Hills” and is thought to be the oldest Spanish city in Yucatan. Its history is dominated by religious events. We live near San Francisco which is also the City of Hills. There is no comparison. The hills of Izamal are only noticeable if you are riding a bicycle. Izamal is located in the middle of the Peninsula . It was conquered by the Spanish and it was the monks in their eagerness to convert the Indians to Catholicism who gave the city its religious distinction. To this day, the people of Izamal are devoted to the Immaculate Virgin.
True to form the road takes us into the square at the heart of the city, where we realize that the guide book was using a little artistic license with the use of the word “gold”. Every building is painted a very bright sunshine yellow. It is very colourful but gives a completely different effect than the one we had expected, that of a city of gold.
The square is dominated by a Convent that was built from and over one of the Mayan Pyramids. The convent is famous for its murals and its central courtyard, which is second only in size to that of the Vatican. We are lucky enough to arrive as the monks (it’s called a convent but it is full of monks!) are congregating in a small chapel for their mid day service. The chapel is lovely, built on the top of a small hill with large double doors on both sides, open to the surrounding trees. Inside there are painted murals, an altar full of flowers and a huge statue of the Immaculate Virgin. The only jarring note is that all the chairs for the monks are red plastic chairs emblazoned with the Coca Cola logo.
The monks generously invite us to be a part of the service, and offer us our own Coca Cola Chairs. The service is quite rousing with two monks playing guitars and the congregation singing along as the Virgin is wheeled forward from her shrine. We feel a little out of place and quietly leave.
Izamal is the “City of the Hills” and is thought to be the oldest Spanish city in Yucatan. Its history is dominated by religious events. We live near San Francisco which is also the City of Hills. There is no comparison. The hills of Izamal are only noticeable if you are riding a bicycle. Izamal is located in the middle of the Peninsula . It was conquered by the Spanish and it was the monks in their eagerness to convert the Indians to Catholicism who gave the city its religious distinction. To this day, the people of Izamal are devoted to the Immaculate Virgin.
True to form the road takes us into the square at the heart of the city, where we realize that the guide book was using a little artistic license with the use of the word “gold”. Every building is painted a very bright sunshine yellow. It is very colourful but gives a completely different effect than the one we had expected, that of a city of gold.
The square is dominated by a Convent that was built from and over one of the Mayan Pyramids. The convent is famous for its murals and its central courtyard, which is second only in size to that of the Vatican. We are lucky enough to arrive as the monks (it’s called a convent but it is full of monks!) are congregating in a small chapel for their mid day service. The chapel is lovely, built on the top of a small hill with large double doors on both sides, open to the surrounding trees. Inside there are painted murals, an altar full of flowers and a huge statue of the Immaculate Virgin. The only jarring note is that all the chairs for the monks are red plastic chairs emblazoned with the Coca Cola logo.
The monks generously invite us to be a part of the service, and offer us our own Coca Cola Chairs. The service is quite rousing with two monks playing guitars and the congregation singing along as the Virgin is wheeled forward from her shrine. We feel a little out of place and quietly leave.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
A Cultural Evening in Merida
The City of Merida certainly knows how to present itself and puts Puerto Vallarta to shame. Nearly every night there is some form of entertainment put on in one of the Squares, and the entertainment is completely free. Tonight it is a ‘Serenade” at Santa Lucia Park. The park is set up like a theatre with a stage in one corner and rows and rows of folding chairs set out in front of it.
There is also a restaurant on the square that sets out tables and chairs so that you can dine while you watch the show. The festivities start at 9pm, and we get to the restaurant shortly after 8 to make sure we get a good table. At least half of the folding chairs are already taken by people arriving early to get their seats. We are intrigued to see that while there are a lot of tourists, the majority of the people are locals.
The entertainment starts promptly at 9 and is introduced by a very natty gentleman well into retirement age, dressed in crisp white trousers, a white jacket and a white panama hat set at a very jaunty angle. From his waistband on his right side, hangs a red striped scarf that reaches to his knee. It is quite a look and he struts across the stage like a peacock. Unfortunately he is equally as proud of the sound of his own voice, as he is of his appearance, and talks incessantly while his audience fidgets and waits for the acts to begin
The first performance is a 12 piece band seated at the back of the stage and made up of local retired professional musicians . They all appear to be well past retirement age and the professional qualities they once had are diminishing. They play one song badly and at half speed, and then collapse back onto their chairs, exhausted.
They are given a five minute rest while the MC talks incessantly again, and then have to play another song while a group of folkloric dancers in wonderfully embroidered costumes walk around the front of the stage in time to the music. There really doesn’t seem to be much action in this local folkloric dancing, but what little there is they carry off with panache and style.
On stage next is a local poet who recites some of his poetry. He is also past his prime, but wears a startling deep blue velour suit to make up for it. He is reciting one of his poems that he has written specifically to be performed on stage. Unfortunately it is in four parts and we are to hear all four parts this evening. Before the end of the first part, two members of the band sitting behind him are fast asleep and in danger of falling off their chairs. His presentation is extremely theatrical and his voice lyrical, and although we understand little of what he speaks, he is fascinating to listen too.
He is followed by a large woman in a glittering bronze jacket several sizes too small, on top of a clinging black dress. Her bottom rivals Joany’s and both the jacket and the clingy dress have their work cut out covering it. She has very short arms, and holds a microphone in one of them. Her voice needs no amplification and could shatter crystal. Her short arms appear to prevent her from holding the microphone far enough away from her mouth. She obviously is going for the torch singer look and sound, but she misses as many notes as she hits. The volume is hard to tolerate and we decide to leave. Unfortunately we can still hear her voice several blocks away.
Although we were forced from the square by the torch singer, we had an enjoyable evening and are truly impressed by the City of Merida. There are not many cities in the world where you can enjoy an evening’s entertainment at no cost. And this was just one of the evenings they arrange. There are more to come.
There is also a restaurant on the square that sets out tables and chairs so that you can dine while you watch the show. The festivities start at 9pm, and we get to the restaurant shortly after 8 to make sure we get a good table. At least half of the folding chairs are already taken by people arriving early to get their seats. We are intrigued to see that while there are a lot of tourists, the majority of the people are locals.
The entertainment starts promptly at 9 and is introduced by a very natty gentleman well into retirement age, dressed in crisp white trousers, a white jacket and a white panama hat set at a very jaunty angle. From his waistband on his right side, hangs a red striped scarf that reaches to his knee. It is quite a look and he struts across the stage like a peacock. Unfortunately he is equally as proud of the sound of his own voice, as he is of his appearance, and talks incessantly while his audience fidgets and waits for the acts to begin
The first performance is a 12 piece band seated at the back of the stage and made up of local retired professional musicians . They all appear to be well past retirement age and the professional qualities they once had are diminishing. They play one song badly and at half speed, and then collapse back onto their chairs, exhausted.
They are given a five minute rest while the MC talks incessantly again, and then have to play another song while a group of folkloric dancers in wonderfully embroidered costumes walk around the front of the stage in time to the music. There really doesn’t seem to be much action in this local folkloric dancing, but what little there is they carry off with panache and style.
On stage next is a local poet who recites some of his poetry. He is also past his prime, but wears a startling deep blue velour suit to make up for it. He is reciting one of his poems that he has written specifically to be performed on stage. Unfortunately it is in four parts and we are to hear all four parts this evening. Before the end of the first part, two members of the band sitting behind him are fast asleep and in danger of falling off their chairs. His presentation is extremely theatrical and his voice lyrical, and although we understand little of what he speaks, he is fascinating to listen too.
He is followed by a large woman in a glittering bronze jacket several sizes too small, on top of a clinging black dress. Her bottom rivals Joany’s and both the jacket and the clingy dress have their work cut out covering it. She has very short arms, and holds a microphone in one of them. Her voice needs no amplification and could shatter crystal. Her short arms appear to prevent her from holding the microphone far enough away from her mouth. She obviously is going for the torch singer look and sound, but she misses as many notes as she hits. The volume is hard to tolerate and we decide to leave. Unfortunately we can still hear her voice several blocks away.
Although we were forced from the square by the torch singer, we had an enjoyable evening and are truly impressed by the City of Merida. There are not many cities in the world where you can enjoy an evening’s entertainment at no cost. And this was just one of the evenings they arrange. There are more to come.
Monday, October 5, 2009
The Cave at Lol Tun
Lastly we stop at the Lol Tun Caves. The caves are famous for their hand paintings dating back to over 10,000 years BC, the fossils of mammoths and other animals, wall paintings, ancient pottery and human remains.
We park in the small car park and are immediately welcomed by a very friendly and very pregnant dog. She makes a great fuss of us and follows us to the entrance.
Here a guide is compulsory as we will be walking for over 1 kilometre through these underground caves. It is not until we are nearly at the end of the walk that our guide tells us that everything we were hoping to see, other than the hand paintings, are in parts of the caves that are as yet inaccessible to tourists.
The lights throughout the caves are on separate circuits, and as we walk through the caves, the guide has to continually find the switch to turn the next few lights on. They are on timers so we cannot dawdle, or the lights go out on us. In true Mexican fashion some of the lights do not switch on. You would expect the guide to be aware of this and have a flashlight at the ready. But you would be wrong. Fortunately we have one of those tiny lights that attach to a key ring and that was our only light to guide us through some of the passageways.
We are amazed and rather touched to find that the dog has accompanied us the entire way through the tunnels. When the lights go off, she keeps quite close to us as if checking we are alright.
At the end of the tour the guide tells us that although we paid an entrance fee to go into the caves, that does not cover his charge and he expects to be paid. When we ask how much, he tells us $50 would be appropriate. Needless to say he is one very disappointed guide.
The dog, however, gets several biscuits from a package we have in the car and seems much happier than the guide.
We park in the small car park and are immediately welcomed by a very friendly and very pregnant dog. She makes a great fuss of us and follows us to the entrance.
Here a guide is compulsory as we will be walking for over 1 kilometre through these underground caves. It is not until we are nearly at the end of the walk that our guide tells us that everything we were hoping to see, other than the hand paintings, are in parts of the caves that are as yet inaccessible to tourists.
The lights throughout the caves are on separate circuits, and as we walk through the caves, the guide has to continually find the switch to turn the next few lights on. They are on timers so we cannot dawdle, or the lights go out on us. In true Mexican fashion some of the lights do not switch on. You would expect the guide to be aware of this and have a flashlight at the ready. But you would be wrong. Fortunately we have one of those tiny lights that attach to a key ring and that was our only light to guide us through some of the passageways.
We are amazed and rather touched to find that the dog has accompanied us the entire way through the tunnels. When the lights go off, she keeps quite close to us as if checking we are alright.
At the end of the tour the guide tells us that although we paid an entrance fee to go into the caves, that does not cover his charge and he expects to be paid. When we ask how much, he tells us $50 would be appropriate. Needless to say he is one very disappointed guide.
The dog, however, gets several biscuits from a package we have in the car and seems much happier than the guide.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Uxmal - More Ruins
From Uxmal we take a circular route back to Merida in order to see other Mayan ruins. But our first stop is at a village called Santa Elena where we are told there is an interesting Museum housing several mummified bodies that were found under the church floor. The museum consists of three small rooms with hardly anything in them other than four tiny bodies of children in open coffins, shown beneath a large sheet of extremely dirty glass. At the entrance are three local young women who presumably are there to take the entrance fee of ten pesos.
But they are so excited to see a foreign tourist that all they can do is giggle and blush. We try to talk to them, but they just turn an even brighter shade of red and giggle some more. The museum itself is so depressing that the giggling girls are a welcome relief.
From there we go on to Sayil, where the Palace of the Ants is found. It is a huge Palace of 90 bedrooms, but little has been restored and you are not allowed to go in or on it. Consequently very few tourists come here. In fact we are asked to sign a guest book which shows that the last visitors came three days ago. The site actually boasts a gift shop, which is a truly desultory affair, the entire stock consisting of about seven rather dirty white dresses on coat hangers, hanging from an open sided Palapa. Maybe the last guests were major shoppers and bought up everything else.
Our next stop is Xlapak, which even the tour book describes as “a site of some fourteen mounds”, which makes it sound so unimpressive that they couldn’t even be bothered to make an exact count of the mounds. We drive on by.
The next site is much more impressive. Labna used to be a Mayan city of over 2000 people. It is a large site with three partially restored buildings. Again the setting is lovely with raised streets crossing huge lawns. This site is famous for The Arch of Labna, a beautiful arch that once marked the entry to a nobleman’s house.
Labna is lovely, and we are amazed that there are only two other people here. They are a very elegant pair of Mexican women carrying huge sun umbrellas and strolling across the lawns as if they were at some garden party.
But they are so excited to see a foreign tourist that all they can do is giggle and blush. We try to talk to them, but they just turn an even brighter shade of red and giggle some more. The museum itself is so depressing that the giggling girls are a welcome relief.
From there we go on to Sayil, where the Palace of the Ants is found. It is a huge Palace of 90 bedrooms, but little has been restored and you are not allowed to go in or on it. Consequently very few tourists come here. In fact we are asked to sign a guest book which shows that the last visitors came three days ago. The site actually boasts a gift shop, which is a truly desultory affair, the entire stock consisting of about seven rather dirty white dresses on coat hangers, hanging from an open sided Palapa. Maybe the last guests were major shoppers and bought up everything else.
Our next stop is Xlapak, which even the tour book describes as “a site of some fourteen mounds”, which makes it sound so unimpressive that they couldn’t even be bothered to make an exact count of the mounds. We drive on by.
The next site is much more impressive. Labna used to be a Mayan city of over 2000 people. It is a large site with three partially restored buildings. Again the setting is lovely with raised streets crossing huge lawns. This site is famous for The Arch of Labna, a beautiful arch that once marked the entry to a nobleman’s house.
Labna is lovely, and we are amazed that there are only two other people here. They are a very elegant pair of Mexican women carrying huge sun umbrellas and strolling across the lawns as if they were at some garden party.
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