Journey Complete; Time to go Home: Days 37-38. Bacalar, Tulum, Cancun

Day 37: Bacalar, Tulum, Playa del Carmen

I was nearing the end of my trip. I woke up early, anxious to move on. In dawn's light, the sky glowed as the sun was hidden in the fog. I walked 6 blocks to the Colectivo (minivan) pick up. There were no vans. It was 6:45 a.m.

I asked a taxi driver if I was in the right place to catch the colectivo for Bacalar. "I'll take you for 80 pesos ($8)," he said. Bacalar is a multicolored lagoon, known for its star-shaped fort built to protect the town from pirates. It is also famous for its Agua Azul Cenote (Blue Water Well). It's a 40-minute ride from Chetumal, and I thought $8 was a good price. The colectivo would cost me $2.

It was early, no traffic, and we arrived at Agua Azul in less than half an hour. Agua Azul is also a restaurant, eclectically decorated: old rifles from the Revolution, live squawking parrots, a mounted bull's head with a hat on each horn, a Mexican, sombrero, the other Texan cowboy. It's an open-air restaurant, posts support the palm-thatched roof and fans stir the humid air.

I was their first breakfast diner. Carlos asked if I'd like coffee while I waited for the cook to set up. I said yes, and he brought me a cup of hot water and a jar of Nescafe instant.

The water in the cenote is crystal clear, 90 feet deep and actually is fed by 9 natural springs. A family was already enjoying a swim.

When breakfast arrived, I asked Carlos to call a taxi for me. It was about a mile to town and I thought by the time I finished my breakfast the cab would be ready.

Perfect timing. The cabbie arrived and we drove into Bacalar.

The town was still quiet and the museum would not open for another 20 minutes. I walked around the outside of the old fort. I looked out, over the multicolored lagoon. Small boats were for rent and attractive restaurants and bars were at the water's edge. This was a touch of paradise.

I took a few pictures and went back to the fort-museum. Its theme was pirates, ships and navigation. There were comments about pre-Hispanic Mayan shipping and trade. The displays were written in both Spanish and English. It was a relatively small fort and museum, but I marveled that any band of pirates would attack.

I had checked the bus schedule. I looked at my watch and scurried to the ADO-Mayab Terminal. I wanted to see Tulum, the Mayan coastal temple and walled citadel. The first view of Spanish ships may have occurred from Tulum. Spaniards were amazed by the stone citadel and compared it to well-built structures in Spain.

From Bacalar, I was in for a 3-hour ride. I bought a ticket, but seats were first come first serve and a number of teenagers, on their way to Playa Del Carmen for the holidays, had appropriate extra seats. I sat in last row. It was a good choice. The last row sits higher than the rest and you have a reasonable view of the highway ahead, and I had a side window too.

I practiced my Spanish with three youngsters aged 15, 12 and 11. They were bright and eager to speak with an old gringo from California.

The bus pulled into Tulum. I expected to be dropped off at the archeological site, not realizing that Tulum was also the name of the local town. I had to catch a taxi for the 3-mile ride to the ruins. The driver explained, however, that going from Tulum's ruins, I could catch a bus to Playa del Carmen and Cancun. And he said, "Take a colectivo; they are more frequent and less expensive."

The taxi dropped me off at the Tulum ruins, but from the entrance, it was still a hike. You can walk or take the train, a tractor pulled double car, that transports 100 visitors at a time.

Of all the Mayan temple sites I visited, Palenque, Uxmal, Edzna, Bonampak, and Yaxchilán, Tulum was by far the most overrun by tourists. Groups crowded the site. There were more tourists in Tulum than stones in the major temple. The site is virtually roped off to visitors. "See but don't climb," is now the rule. This is also true of Palenque, Uxmal and Chichen Itza. Pogo said it best, ages ago, "We have met the enemy and he is us."

Swimmers climbed down a wooden staircase to the gulf. Soft breakers stirred the shoreline. Many tourists were wearing shorts and some were in swimsuits. The ocean offered refreshing relief from the heat and humidity.

I read the bilingual commentaries and was thankful I wasn't herded with a group. Europeans outnumbered Americans.

The afternoon sun was perfect for photos, but most pictures are sprinkled with tourists.

Tulum is not a large site. One hour is sufficient to walk, read the legends, photograph and even touch your toe into the sand of the Caribbean Sea.

I caught the tractor-train back to the center. Papantla men performed the high climbing, swinging rope ritual. One man stands atop an 80-foot pole, 4 others, representing the 4 cardinal points, perform a ritual, then drop backwards, upside-down, feet attached to ropes and they unwind, circling the ground. The ritual is in reverence to the rain god, and the performers are a metaphor for the falling rain.

From the center I still had a 5-minute walk to the colectivo stand. When I arrived, the driver told me to sit up front. I was alone and as soon as I got in, we were off to Playa Del Carmen.

Playa Del Carmen is the ultimate tourist beachfront shopping bazaar. I enjoyed the utter overexposure to Mexican shopping and brand name luxury businesses.

I paid $6 for a scoop of Häagen Dazs Pralines and Cream with a special dipped cone. Starbucks was prominent and Carlos and Charlie's, too.

Luxury shops line Calle Cinco (Fifth Street) and there is enough electricity glowing in the jewelry stores to power most hotels.

Expenses: Taxi & Combi $18, Bus $10, Meals $18, Hotel La Ziranda $44, Fees $18, Total: $108.

Day 38: Leaving: Playa del Carmen and the Cancun Airport

On Playa del Carmen's Fifth Street, from an efficient travel agent handling incoming calls and simultaneously punching up airline schedules on the computer, I purchased a ticket for Mexico City. He recommended Click Airlines. "It's part of Mexicana, but like United's Ted, it's the economical service," he said.

Click had an early flight. That suited me. I like early mornings in Mexico. Next morning I was up, packed and ready by 5 a.m. Hotel la Ziranda was only two blocks from the bus depot, but the airport bus wouldn't leave until 7 a.m.

I'd have to take a taxi.

I loaded myself down with three bags and walked to the corner, down the street from my hotel. It was dark, misty and quiet. I stood at the corner. Immediately a cab flashed its lights. I waved and he pulled over. "How much to Cancun Airport?" The driver pulled out a rate card, "$40," he said.

We negotiated. "Its early, no traffic, it's a 30 minute ride, round trip, you'll be back in an hour," I said to the cabbie. "You might get a fare back."

We agreed to $30. I put my bags in the back seat, sat down in the front seat and chatted. I asked about his kids and family. Along the highway there were big stonewalls with gated entryways to new resorts under construction. The driver pointed out 3 new hotels, "All Spanish," he said.

I thought, how ironic. When I was in Spain in the sixties, Spain was poor and selling its beaches to Germans and Scandinavians. Now Spaniards are buying Mexico's beaches.

It was a quick ride. Light was dawning. The airport was silent. I was early and check-in was fast. I was on my way home.

Expenses: Taxi $30