Y Mas Adelante... The Graham Norton Show
Dec. 7th, 2014 06:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lupestripeThe flight back to Mexico City left Merida at 6.25pm on Saturday, so we were up quite early that morning to embark on the 400km drive north-west to the principle city in the state of Yucatan. As before, this drive was largely uneventful although some of the signs, particularly the distance ones, made no logical sense at all. On our way, we had to encounter the usual fun of topes, speedbumps effectively, which are liberally present in every single town and village through which you drive. There are four types too - plateaus, sleeping policemen, hard spheres in the ground and cats eyes type things and it's hard to know which ones you are going to get. We must have gone over at least four hundred during our trip and I dread to think what the average lifespan of a car's suspension would he in the country. The main problem with topes is that sometimes they are not clearly signposted (sometimes they are though) so the only way you know they are there is if you witness a driver in front of you going over them. The roads were largely quite quiet so this wasn't a guarantee, although we only got caught out on a few occasions. One advantage of the topes is that this is where you see a slice of Mexican life as there are often women and children selling roadside snacks such as pasties, sweetcorn or sweet breads in cellophane bags to passing motorists. Usually this is just people standing there waiting but on a few occasions there was a little hut adjacent to the road, where you could buy an increased range of produce. We didn't indulge though, preferring to go to Oxxo to get sandwiches and Sponch. Indeed Sponch kept us going through the long drive as we had eight each during the five hour sojourn along with memories of all the old episodes of The Graham Norton Show we watched on BBC Entertainment, the only non-Spanish channel we could find (but at lease the banter between will.i.am and Mirian Margolyes meant I warmed to both of them).
There are a few things I regret not doing on this trip but fortunately one of these things - visiting a local cave - I could realise on the journey back to the airport. By my calculations, we had about two hours spare so we opted to stop at the Loltun Caves, which were just an hour outside of Merida and only a twenty minute detour off the main road. This turned out to be an inspired choice as we arrived just in time for the 2pm guided tour, which was to take an hour, where we descended 80m below the earth to look at some awe-inspiring caverns which had been cut out of the rock. They were caused by an underground river which has since dried up, moving further underground to create a new set of caverns underneath these ones. You could tell this as when you banged your foot on the floor, there was a hollow sound while there were cracks in the floor where the water seeps. The water in the first set of caves - the ones through which we walked - had largely dried up but you could still see some channels which acted as underground rivers in the rainy season, which ended about a month ago. The floor too is a rather smooth undulating mud making navigation a little tricky due to the slipperiness. This was compensated by the stunning chunky limestone stalactites, which descended from the roof of the ceiling like fractured chubby fingers, twisting into a range of exotic shapes. These are still being added to up to this day and you could see the drips of water forming on their ends. Underneath some of these there were stone troughs in which the local Mayan population collected water, which was fresh and incredibly pure having had all of the impurities taken out by the limestone (which of course is the basis for the bottled water industry). The Mayan have been doing this for generations, with the guide telling us that this was the case even up to the mid-1990s. Inside the caves, there was also evidence of Mayan presence, with a sculpture of a head out of the rock sitting pride of place inside one of the major caverns. It was a remarkable piece, made more remarkable by the fact that the Mayan didn't have electrical lighting like we did down there, just fire, evidence of which could be seen in burn marks on the walls. Another piece of evidence of Mayan presence was some of the carvings in the walls to the rain god Chaac, with an abundance of water vital for the Mayan to get through the long dry season. Either side of this carving was a head similar to tragedy and comedy in our theatrical process. The final Mayan relic was black handprints on the walls created through the use of a dye from a local tree, which is burnt to leave an impression. It is believed that these prints acted as a guidance tool, reminding the people of where to go to get out of the caves. 7km have been discovered but we were only allowed to walk along 2km accompanied by a guide, although they are hoping that another 3km will be opened to the public soon. Consequently finding your way out is difficult, as happened to the poor ten-year-old Mayan boy whose bones were discovered in the cave when engineers were putting the lighting system in. This closed the cave to visitors as archaeologists moved in, but no further bones were discovered. It is believed that the child got lost in the caves and banged his head, with him never being found by his people. He lay there so long that his legs were covered in alluvial mud. While the Mayan believed that the caves did link to the underworld and consequently death, there has been no evidence of burial here. It was a scared site but all could enter - the old and the young, men and women, indeed anyone who had life as there was an equality to this level of spirituality.
The Mayan history was fascinating but it was the stunning geological formations that took the breath away, particularly towards the end with two holes above allowing shafts of daylight to pervade the cave system. This was above an artificial wall built by the Mayan during the Caste Wars which began in 1847, with the caves providing a perfect defence, particularly for the women and children. Here we noticed natural rock formations that looked like a wolf on a plinth, a monkey's face and a lion as well as seeing a parasitic tree which was growing out of the cave and into the shafts of sunlight. It's roots are massive, digging down another 40m at least to the water source and it was this tree that we saw fringing Lake Bacalar on Friday when we went there. It can also wrap around other trees and suck water out of those, killing them in the process. The varying temperatures in the caves, from humid but cool to scorching hot, were also an intersecting phenomenon to observe and while I was a little disappointed there were no underground cenotes or rivers to see, I did feel this cave complex was well worth the stop off on our way back to Merida.
This was the end of the tour and although we had to pay for entry, the guides are not paid as the money goes to the Mexican state. At other sites, you had to pay separately for a guide but having a guide was optional. Not so here so we had to leave a tip. There were five of us in the English language group (and around 25 in the Spanish one, which we overtook very quickly at the start of the tour so we weren't stuck behind them and didn't have them in all of our photographs) - the two of us and a French couple with a smiling baby who really enjoyed the journey being carried in a sling in front of this father (although at one point he was a little sick). The French couple gave the guide 50 pesos between them, a derisory figure that he was right to question, whereas we gave him 200 pesos each which we thought was about right. We grabbed a delicious passion fruit drink from a local seller and talked to him on the way back to the parking lot, where he told us about his adventure tour company, which we may seek out next time we come.
Despite the guide rushing us through the tour a little so we could get our flight, it turned out we were cutting it rather fine, particularly as we needed to fill the rental car with petrol and return it before checking in. We had 75 minutes to do all this but Taneli did all the car stuff before I had even got to the check in desk so all was fine in the end. We made it through security and were still hanging around for 15 minutes before boarding, with a solitary snack bar the only thing to keep us occupied. We were soon on the plane though - sat next to each other unlike last time - for the two hour flight back to the madness of Mexico City. As if to prove this, the taxi driver who took is back to Cryn's from the airport was somewhat kamikaze in his driving, going through numerous red lights and not leaving much space between himself, parked cars and other passing motorists and pedestrians. He also didn't know where the specific street we needed was, having to ask a bunch of hoodied-up youths for directions before relying on Taneli's broken Spanish and his sat-nav for directions. We got back in the end though, which was the main thing.
Cryn and Misha weren't there to greet us as it was Cryn's dad's birthday, but they had given us a key and so we let ourselves in, dropped our stuff off and headed back out into the city to get something to eat. It was 10pm by this stage though and things were closing, which is odd for a major world city on a Saturday night. We had hoped to go to the delightful Argentinian place we had gone with Cryn earlier in the week as this was just two blocks away from the house but that was unfortunately closed so we had to venture into the adjoining district of Roma Norte for food. After a ten minute walk during which Taneli commented on my mismatched shorts and black socks/shoes combo (I really don't care), we spied a few restaurants which were open before hitting Insurgentes, one of the main streets here. There was a Sanborn's, which we thought we could visit worst case, but we ended up in an American style rock joint called Sixtie's, erroneously playing Eighties hair metal and U2. The music was quite loud, probably a little too loud to be comfortable, but it was open and serving food which was the main thing. We bought a jug of Indio which the nice big-breasted waitress (another theme here) poured for us while we both opted for Philly Steak Sandwiches which were most delicious. I was expecting mine to come with fries, which was a bit of a disappointment, but the waitress did return later with some Mexican bar snacks a little like almonds which I think were called Permidas or something. These are fantastically salty when you put them in your mouth but you then need to remove the shell with your teeth before extracting the green nut in the middle. I got rather obsessed by these, eating most of the plate and creating a slimy gooey mess on a separate plate with all of the half chewed shells I had extracted from my mouth. They were a bit fiddly to eat but worth it I thought, even though I was eating them to the detriment of drinking my beer. The waitress was really nice too, interested about England and telling us that she was a dancer but had only just started working there 12 days ago as she likes rock music. It was a good vibe to be fair although perhaps there were a few too many middle aged men trying to relive their youth and although I'm not a huge fan of hair metal, there was enough other good music such as Queen to keep me entertained. The same was true of the waitresses, who looked resplendent in their blue corsets, but then I've always liked corsets.
After this, we headed back to the house and waited for Cryn and Misha to get back, which in the end was about an hour and a half later. We had gotten ready for bed in the meantime and I was just about to go before Cryn came in, hilariously drunk after drinking three liters of tequila between five people on top of wine and whisky, with Misha in tow. He said hi to me while being supported by a pole in the front room, pointed at me and commented how much he liked me and then went to bed. It was a charming and heart-warning way to end a long day. Suffice to say he's feeling rather worse for wear this morning.
There are a few things I regret not doing on this trip but fortunately one of these things - visiting a local cave - I could realise on the journey back to the airport. By my calculations, we had about two hours spare so we opted to stop at the Loltun Caves, which were just an hour outside of Merida and only a twenty minute detour off the main road. This turned out to be an inspired choice as we arrived just in time for the 2pm guided tour, which was to take an hour, where we descended 80m below the earth to look at some awe-inspiring caverns which had been cut out of the rock. They were caused by an underground river which has since dried up, moving further underground to create a new set of caverns underneath these ones. You could tell this as when you banged your foot on the floor, there was a hollow sound while there were cracks in the floor where the water seeps. The water in the first set of caves - the ones through which we walked - had largely dried up but you could still see some channels which acted as underground rivers in the rainy season, which ended about a month ago. The floor too is a rather smooth undulating mud making navigation a little tricky due to the slipperiness. This was compensated by the stunning chunky limestone stalactites, which descended from the roof of the ceiling like fractured chubby fingers, twisting into a range of exotic shapes. These are still being added to up to this day and you could see the drips of water forming on their ends. Underneath some of these there were stone troughs in which the local Mayan population collected water, which was fresh and incredibly pure having had all of the impurities taken out by the limestone (which of course is the basis for the bottled water industry). The Mayan have been doing this for generations, with the guide telling us that this was the case even up to the mid-1990s. Inside the caves, there was also evidence of Mayan presence, with a sculpture of a head out of the rock sitting pride of place inside one of the major caverns. It was a remarkable piece, made more remarkable by the fact that the Mayan didn't have electrical lighting like we did down there, just fire, evidence of which could be seen in burn marks on the walls. Another piece of evidence of Mayan presence was some of the carvings in the walls to the rain god Chaac, with an abundance of water vital for the Mayan to get through the long dry season. Either side of this carving was a head similar to tragedy and comedy in our theatrical process. The final Mayan relic was black handprints on the walls created through the use of a dye from a local tree, which is burnt to leave an impression. It is believed that these prints acted as a guidance tool, reminding the people of where to go to get out of the caves. 7km have been discovered but we were only allowed to walk along 2km accompanied by a guide, although they are hoping that another 3km will be opened to the public soon. Consequently finding your way out is difficult, as happened to the poor ten-year-old Mayan boy whose bones were discovered in the cave when engineers were putting the lighting system in. This closed the cave to visitors as archaeologists moved in, but no further bones were discovered. It is believed that the child got lost in the caves and banged his head, with him never being found by his people. He lay there so long that his legs were covered in alluvial mud. While the Mayan believed that the caves did link to the underworld and consequently death, there has been no evidence of burial here. It was a scared site but all could enter - the old and the young, men and women, indeed anyone who had life as there was an equality to this level of spirituality.
The Mayan history was fascinating but it was the stunning geological formations that took the breath away, particularly towards the end with two holes above allowing shafts of daylight to pervade the cave system. This was above an artificial wall built by the Mayan during the Caste Wars which began in 1847, with the caves providing a perfect defence, particularly for the women and children. Here we noticed natural rock formations that looked like a wolf on a plinth, a monkey's face and a lion as well as seeing a parasitic tree which was growing out of the cave and into the shafts of sunlight. It's roots are massive, digging down another 40m at least to the water source and it was this tree that we saw fringing Lake Bacalar on Friday when we went there. It can also wrap around other trees and suck water out of those, killing them in the process. The varying temperatures in the caves, from humid but cool to scorching hot, were also an intersecting phenomenon to observe and while I was a little disappointed there were no underground cenotes or rivers to see, I did feel this cave complex was well worth the stop off on our way back to Merida.
This was the end of the tour and although we had to pay for entry, the guides are not paid as the money goes to the Mexican state. At other sites, you had to pay separately for a guide but having a guide was optional. Not so here so we had to leave a tip. There were five of us in the English language group (and around 25 in the Spanish one, which we overtook very quickly at the start of the tour so we weren't stuck behind them and didn't have them in all of our photographs) - the two of us and a French couple with a smiling baby who really enjoyed the journey being carried in a sling in front of this father (although at one point he was a little sick). The French couple gave the guide 50 pesos between them, a derisory figure that he was right to question, whereas we gave him 200 pesos each which we thought was about right. We grabbed a delicious passion fruit drink from a local seller and talked to him on the way back to the parking lot, where he told us about his adventure tour company, which we may seek out next time we come.
Despite the guide rushing us through the tour a little so we could get our flight, it turned out we were cutting it rather fine, particularly as we needed to fill the rental car with petrol and return it before checking in. We had 75 minutes to do all this but Taneli did all the car stuff before I had even got to the check in desk so all was fine in the end. We made it through security and were still hanging around for 15 minutes before boarding, with a solitary snack bar the only thing to keep us occupied. We were soon on the plane though - sat next to each other unlike last time - for the two hour flight back to the madness of Mexico City. As if to prove this, the taxi driver who took is back to Cryn's from the airport was somewhat kamikaze in his driving, going through numerous red lights and not leaving much space between himself, parked cars and other passing motorists and pedestrians. He also didn't know where the specific street we needed was, having to ask a bunch of hoodied-up youths for directions before relying on Taneli's broken Spanish and his sat-nav for directions. We got back in the end though, which was the main thing.
Cryn and Misha weren't there to greet us as it was Cryn's dad's birthday, but they had given us a key and so we let ourselves in, dropped our stuff off and headed back out into the city to get something to eat. It was 10pm by this stage though and things were closing, which is odd for a major world city on a Saturday night. We had hoped to go to the delightful Argentinian place we had gone with Cryn earlier in the week as this was just two blocks away from the house but that was unfortunately closed so we had to venture into the adjoining district of Roma Norte for food. After a ten minute walk during which Taneli commented on my mismatched shorts and black socks/shoes combo (I really don't care), we spied a few restaurants which were open before hitting Insurgentes, one of the main streets here. There was a Sanborn's, which we thought we could visit worst case, but we ended up in an American style rock joint called Sixtie's, erroneously playing Eighties hair metal and U2. The music was quite loud, probably a little too loud to be comfortable, but it was open and serving food which was the main thing. We bought a jug of Indio which the nice big-breasted waitress (another theme here) poured for us while we both opted for Philly Steak Sandwiches which were most delicious. I was expecting mine to come with fries, which was a bit of a disappointment, but the waitress did return later with some Mexican bar snacks a little like almonds which I think were called Permidas or something. These are fantastically salty when you put them in your mouth but you then need to remove the shell with your teeth before extracting the green nut in the middle. I got rather obsessed by these, eating most of the plate and creating a slimy gooey mess on a separate plate with all of the half chewed shells I had extracted from my mouth. They were a bit fiddly to eat but worth it I thought, even though I was eating them to the detriment of drinking my beer. The waitress was really nice too, interested about England and telling us that she was a dancer but had only just started working there 12 days ago as she likes rock music. It was a good vibe to be fair although perhaps there were a few too many middle aged men trying to relive their youth and although I'm not a huge fan of hair metal, there was enough other good music such as Queen to keep me entertained. The same was true of the waitresses, who looked resplendent in their blue corsets, but then I've always liked corsets.
After this, we headed back to the house and waited for Cryn and Misha to get back, which in the end was about an hour and a half later. We had gotten ready for bed in the meantime and I was just about to go before Cryn came in, hilariously drunk after drinking three liters of tequila between five people on top of wine and whisky, with Misha in tow. He said hi to me while being supported by a pole in the front room, pointed at me and commented how much he liked me and then went to bed. It was a charming and heart-warning way to end a long day. Suffice to say he's feeling rather worse for wear this morning.
