ABC Motorcycle Tour of Yucatan, Mexico

“A” is for adventure. It was still dark when I pulled on my jacket, chaps, helmet, and gloves. As I rode south along the waterfront to catch the 6 a.m. car ferry from Cozumel to the mainland, the sky turned from grey to periwinkle blue, with a pink glow to the east. A cloudless sky and the smell of warm salty air promised a beautiful day for a motorcycle ride. There had been a strong norte (north wind) the day before and the seas were still turbulent, causing the ferry roll from side-to-side as it plowed through the waves eleven miles to the mainland.

The speed limit on freeway from Calica to Tulum is 100 kph (about 60 mph), and I cruised along on my Honda 450 in light traffic at 65 mph. I turned right at Tulum, past the Mayan ruins at Coba, and continued to Valladolid. Eight years ago I drove this road and it had VW Beatle-eating chuck holes, but now it is a good highway. Valladolid is one of my favorite historical colonial cities, with excellent, reasonably priced, beautiful hotels; good Yucatan food; interesting historical sites; and several cenotes. I stopped for brunch at Las Campanas restaurant, on the south west corner of the main plaza. For 80 pesos ($6.50) I had the specialty of the house omelet with potatoes, tortillas, salsa, and a cappuccino.
　
　
“C” is for cenotes, the sink holes in lime stone filled with clear fresh water from underground rivers. Just 3 miles west of Valladolid in Dzitnups are two beautiful cenotes, X’Keken and Samula. I snorkeled in X’Keken, which is accessed by steep well-lit stairs.

It is a cave with a hole in the roof through which the sun beams in. The water is crystal clear and refreshing, but not cold. There is a guided tour of a small cave that winds around the cavern to the other side of the cenote. A huge stalactite hanging from the ceiling looks like a frozen waterfall.
　
It was another two hour ride to Mé rida and my bottom was ready for a rest. I stayed at the home of some friends who own a 100-year-old city house located near the main plaza. They were there to greet me with a cerveza in hand when I got off my motorcycle. My friends had plans for the weekend on the coast, so I had the house to myself. After a siesta and shower, I walked to the plaza and enjoyed an excellent dinner of filet de Veracruz, with jalapenos and onions, at Las Vigas restaurant, upstairs in the El Arco Hotel. The dinner, with two glasses of wine, cost about $12.

“B” is for Beethoven. As I was walking past the Teatro José Peon Contreras, the oldest and most beautiful theater in the Yucatan, a performance was just about to begin. I asked at the ticket window

what was playing and if any tickets were available. It was a sold-out performance by the Yucatan Symphony Orchestra and Choir of Beethoven’s Fantasy Coral and 9^th Symphony. With my usual good luck, I saw a lady standing next to the stairs holding two tickets in the air. I bought a ticket for a seat in the second box, right above the stage. Of course I was underdressed, but a young lady who had a friend in the choir and snuck in to the vacant seat next to me, was also casually dressed. It was a fantastic performance and emotional experience.

The next morning I rode 60 miles south of Mé rida to Uxmal, a World Heritage Site. Uxmal is far superior to Chichen Itza as a cultural experience because Chichen Itza is now heavily commercialized with hundreds of vendors inside the park. I arrived at Uxmal about 9 a.m., before the tour buses, and as I walked through history I saw more iguanas than people. The architecture is awe inspiring and the silence and peacefulness was an ethereal experience.

Uxmal is one of the few Maya Ruins at which you can still climb a pyramid and the view is fantastic. Uxmal has more than 150 structures and the Pyramid of the Magician with its rounded corners is particularly magnificent.
From Uxmal I continued on the Route Puuc, which is perfect for motorcycle touring. It winds though the hills with dips and curves and is a nice ride at 45 mph.

I stopped at the Maya ruins of Kabah, which is not as large as Uxmal, but has more extensive detailed carvings of the Maya god Chaac. Kabah is right next to the road and is very easy (and inexpensive) to access. It does not appear very impressive from the road, but up close the art work is exquisite. Kabah has larger-than-life sized carvings of Chaac.

There are several other Maya ruins on the Puuc Route which I did not visit on this trip. On the ride back to Mé rida, I learned that the most dangerous thing about driving in this area is not drug wars, but unmarked topes (speed bumps). I hit one at about 30 mph and was afraid I would blow the front tire.


Every Saturday night there is folk music and dancing at a plaza in Mé rida. The local families, expatriates, and tourist mingle and enjoy the inexpensive food sold by vendors and the traditional Mexican dancing and singing. Mérida is a very cosmopolitan city there is a ethnic diversity. The locals are warm and friendly towards everyone. I was standing on a corner holding a map in my hand, looking for the plaza with the music when a traffic cop asked if he could help me. That is not typical of the experiences I have had in big cities in the U.S.
　
On the way back to Cozumel on Sunday I stopped at Cenote Gran, that is a couple of miles west of Tulum on the road to Coba. Cenote Gran is one of the most beautiful and well managed that I have visited. They provide changing rooms, a restaurant, and snorkel equipment for rent.

The cenote is a huge crescent shaped hole, with a wide staircase leading to a large wood platform on an island in the center of the cenote. The water is crystal clear and an underground cavern extends about 100 yards at each end of the cenote. One end is very shallow and leads through a huge tunnel to a second small cenote, with a island in the center covered with palm trees and tropical plants.

The other end of the cenote is very deep and extends into a cavern with stalactites. I paid an entrance fee of 100 pesos, which I think included a gringo surcharge. Most of the developed cenotes have an entrance fee of 50 to 80 pesos, and the fees are posted.

The ride back to the ferry on Sunday afternoon was uneventful, except there was more traffic. I was stopped a couple times on this trip at security check points manned by army personnel. I learned after the first stop to raise my face plate on my helmet. Once they saw I was an old gringo, I was waved through. I saw no sign of drugs, violence, or anyone acting in fear for their safety. I walked the streets of Mérida at midnight and felt perfectly safe. There were families and couples walking and considerable traffic late into the night.

Looking for Hobies - Finding Cenotes in the Yucatan

Last year I found a lonely Hobie Cat 18 with no mast on the beach at Tulum. This year I went searching for Hobies in Chicxulub, the home of the Cummins Cup Hobie 16 annual regatta. Forty Hobies sailed in the regatta in 2009. I could not find the 2010 dates on the internet, but knew the regatta was in late July or early August. I could not go then, so the last Saturday in August, I took the 6 a.m. ferry from Cozumel to Playa del Carmen and caught the 7:30 first-class bus to Merida. The bus has reclining seats better than any airline, with free individual headsets, soft drinks, bottled water, movies (in Spanish) and lots of leg room. It is a five hour ride to Merida, with one stop in Tulum. I took a local bus from Merida to Progreso. It was like any city bus: dirty, smelly, and bumpy. From Progreso I paid 50 pesos (about 40 cents) for a ride in a beat up local’s van-bus to Chicxulub, six miles east on the north coast of the Yucatan. The driver had installed a musical horn and every time we passed a female between ages of about 15 and 50, he pushed the horn, which was almost continuous.

It was 2:30 when I arrived in Chicxulub and I was starving. I hadn’t eaten since 5 a.m. I walked around town and found a restaurant with a lot of locals in it; always a sign of good food. I had grilled fish and a Sol and both were excellent. I am not that fond of beer but some how in Mexico in the summer, they always taste good. It had rained hard while I was on the bus from Merida and the dirt streets were covered with pools, about the size of my swimming pool at Casa Martillo, but not quite as deep.

I asked everyone who smiled (which was almost everyone ) where the Hobie Cat sailboats are kept. My Spanish is not terrific, but I can get by and I think most understood what I was asking (especially with my artful drawings). But no one knew of any sailboats, much less, Hobie Cats. I asked a couple of locals if there was a hotel where the sailors stayed and they pointed down the beach. So I started walking along the beach. The closes thing I saw to what looked like a mast were the fishing boats with long poles fore and aft. Not a sailboat nor hotel in sight. After walking about a mile along the beach in the heat, I saw nothing but sand and water in front of me, with heat waves shimmering in the air. I asked a few more locals, then realized that I was not going to find any Hobie Cats in Chicxulub. I took the van back to Progreso, hoping for better luck.

Progreso is like many beach towns with a wide sidewalk and a seawall on the beach side, and rows of hotels and restaurants on the other. Lots of people enjoying the beach, sun and calm seas, but no sailboats. It was getting late and I asked the rates at a couple of hotels. The lowest was 400 pesos, plus tax and it did not look very clean. I decided to give up my search for Hobie Cats and seek other adventures.

I took the bus back to Merida, which was celebrating both the bicentennial of independence from Spain on September 16th, and the centennial of the Mexican revolution on November 20th. The Mexican government and every state in Mexico are sponsoring events. On Saturday and Sunday in Merida there is traditional Mexican dancing, singing, marching bands, and lights shows. I listened to a lady sing about eight songs and she was sensational.

Many years ago my mother and I stayed at the Hotel Gran, which was built in 1910 (also its centennial this year). The hotel is beautiful but the room needed renovation, the bathroom was a poorly-converted closet and the beds still had their original mattresses. This time I tried the Hotel Caribe, which is next to the Gran and also located just one block from the central plaza. The Caribe is a former Catholic College from the XVII Century converted into a charming Colonial hotel. Although it does not have the grand staircase of the Gran hotel, it has a beautiful colonial atmosphere with a courtyard and fountain, air conditioned rooms with newer beds, and a nice pool on the top floor. There is also a great view of the cathedral, which is the oldest in Mexico. I got a sunset shot of El Ateneo, formerly the archbishops palace behind the cathedral.

The next morning, during my ritual café latte, I decided to go to the cenotes (sink holes) at Cuzama, located about 23 miles south of Merida. I found the bus station about eight blocks from the hotel, bought my ticket and had some breakfast while waiting for the 8:45 a.m. bus. It was another city bus with many families and five young gringos (actually four English and one Brazilian university students). About an hour later, the students and I got off the bus at Cuzama. There were pedicabs waiting to take us to the cenotes entrance and the students asked if I would like to join them. The six of us took three cabs. Two of them were powered by small motorcycles and mine was pedal powered. Of course I arrived at the entrance 10 minutes later than the other two. What we saw surprised me: Small wooden railcars on a narrow track hauled by horses. Each car carried six passengers, if two sit on the back board, which had no padding or rain cover.

After not-so-subtle urging, the old horse trotted down the track at quite a clip. The railcar seemed like it was going to tip over at every curve and I held on to the beam across the roof to stay in. The theme song of Indiana Jones kept going through my mind as we bumped and clacked through the jungle. After about a mile, we passed another railcar that had been lifted off the track to let us pass. There is only one track and the railcar going in has the right-of-way. On the return trip, our railcar driver had to lift the car off the tracks and put it back on about 10 times. He was a small wiry young man of about 20 with muscles of a weight lifter.

About four miles in we stopped at the first cenote. We climbed down steep wooden steps to a platform about 15 feet above a huge pool, about the size of a football field, with a domed roof.

After exploring all of the cenote, we got back on the railcar and went further into the jungle to the next stop. The second cenote was a little more challenging to get in and out. A 20 foot jump off a wooden platform and a climb up a wooden ladder of dubious construction. The two girls in our group decided not to jump, but the three boys and I had another thrilling dive and swim. There were several holes in the roof through which the sun shined and caused an illusion of a solid beam of light in the water to the bottom of the pool. I jumped in with my mask and snorkel and swam to the light beam, dove 30 feet to the bottom, and rose in the beam of light to the surface. It was a deeper than I thought and I felt a slight panic as I surfaced, gasping for air when I hit the surface. But what a blast!

The last cenote was on a spur off the main track. The entrance is a small hole in the roof of the cenote down a 40 foot wooden ladder to a wooden platform. The girls did not want to go down the ladder, so they watched our packs while we climbed down into the dark. There was very little light and it took awhile for my eyes to adapt. But in the center of the roof, which was covered with stalactites, there was a another hole with the sun beaming down. By now we knew the drill and jumped off the platform and swam to the light. This cenote was the most ethereal of the three and seemed to have a distinctive mystic quality. While we were down in the cenote, it rained hard on the surface above us. We climbed out to a steaming jungle and then rode the railcar back to civilization. In Cuzama we waited about 30 minutes for some young men to clean very new Mercedes van bus and drive us back to Merdia.

We arrived in Merida about 7 p.m., too late for me the get a bus back to Playa del Carmen, so I decided to stay in the hostel where the students were staying. After negotiating a rate for the night, the clerk asked for my passport, which was at the immigration office on Cozumel being processed for a new business visa. The clerk refused to let me check in without an “official” ID. I showed him my Mexican resident ferry pass with my photo, my Mexican Costco and Sam’s Club cards, all to no avail. So I walked back to the Hotel Caribe and checked in for another night. I was planning on meeting the students in the plaza, but we did not connect.

I took the 7:30 a.m. bus back to Playa del Carmen the next morning and caught the 1 p.m. ferry. It was a great weekend and I look forward returning to Merida with friends in December.