The trip from Merida to Playa del Carmen was a study in contrasts, the fruits of various human endeavors and stamina.
We got an early start so we could get the jump on the hordes of cruise ship day trippers at
Chichen Itza. Rafael, our guide spends the rest of his time participating in the site digs and clearly loves Mayan history. One of the rituals was the ball game, consisting of getting a 6-8 pound ball that didn’t bounce, up about 15-18 metres in the air, through a cement ring that was vertical…without using your hands, only shoulders, elbows, knees etc. They had 5 days to get it done and what grand prize were they competing for, you ask? To be the one chosen to be sacrificed to the gods. A-huh.
The pitch was about 167 metres long and the acoustics so precise you could hear something said normally at one end, all the way at the other, no secrets to be had. A clap at one end echoed 7 times around the ground which also held significance. These days it probably just annoys the iguanas living among the ruined walls.
The giant central pyramid for which Chichen Itza is mostly known is precisely aligned along astronomical lines and depending on the solstices and seasons certain sides will light up at sunrise entirely while others are completely dark and so on. A clap at the bottom squawks back with the sound of the Quetzal bird, a rare breed of the region, but you must be standing at the base of the steps, it won’t work trying it up the platforms. The intricacies of the architecture is phenomenal.
As with other Mayan cities we have toured, there is far more to Chichen Itza than currently visible. A mound of trees usually hides another pyramid or temple, the jungle constantly reclaims her territory. It’s a constant struggle to hold back the green with the perfect tropical climate. Still, the structures that are able to be viewed are awe-inspiring and carefully restored as needed without compromising the integrity of the original architecture to appear as close to it may have originally, albeit sans the striking reds, blues and greens of the primitive paints.
A large marketplace once thrived along what is now a series of solid rock columns spreading sideways from a temple, no matter which way you look, the columns line up perfectly. The roof and the stall holders are all that’s missing.
A round dial is a supposed cosmic observatory – a rare structure when the Mayans favoured corners over curves in their buildings. A king’s tomb, numerous platforms dedicated to gods, a sinkhole with diving platform…or more likely a sacrificial leaping pad…Chichen Itza is monumental. We got there early to avoid the crowds. As Nicole and I emerged from the myriad of stalls spruiking cushion covers and concrete mould mini temples on the path back from the sinkhole the plaza was transformed. We’d seen spacious grass (grown over what would have been white stucco) between all the temples while we had been guided around earlier. Now it was wall to wall tour groups and school classes. Imagine them all in Mayan garb with elongated foreheads, body piercings and you can imagine a busy day in CI’s heyday centuries ago. Except without the ritual sacrifice, voluntary or not…unless someone snaps at one pushy salesman too many, haha.
I got a few gifts made for family from the Mayan calendar with the iconography/hieroglyphics with birthdays converted to the traditional Mayan calendar. Given the hype with the end of the world on 21 December 2012, it seemed fitting. Rafael explained the arithmetic and took the mystery out of it for us, and I’ll try my best to remember here…remembered maths is not my strong suit…
The religious and the sun calendars rotate at different speeds, lining up once every 52 years. There are so many revolutions that make up a measure of time sacred to the Mayans, around 5125 years. One of those revolutions ended on 21 Dec 2012. So it just starts again. So instead of shouting “end of the world”, it really should have been “happy new 5125 years!” See, no worries mate!
Onwards to a gorgeous sinkhole on our way to Playa del Carmen was a chance for the brave few of us to make a splash. A long walk down slippery stairs to the bottom and then up to a 5-8 metre high platform to jump into the deep blue. It’s a rush I never quite relish until it’s over, having a constant fear of falling following too many knee injuries. The heart in mouth sensation is one I’m trying to conquer each opportunity – rock jumping into the Tully River while rafting, Tarzan Swing in Costa Rica and the run and jump take off for paragliding over Rio de Janeiro in December being among the most tingling so far. The first is always the worst of course and I did it again into the sinkhole with much less tingling. The pool was clear until it grew dark and deep and teeming with fish, a few constant streams of water leaching through the limestone plummeted into the depths and drummed on the surface between the tree roots tumbling down from the surface to almost reach the water. It was spectacular.
Arriving in Playa del Carmen the assault of tourists was immediate. Apparently the thing to do is get your hair braided. That never looks good on many people at all. Just saying. We settled in, took a walk around town, people-watched along 5th Avenue, the shopping strip, before getting our glad rags on for a top night out. We started with dinner at Fusion, a funky restaurant and bar with live music and resident dog called Libby, nestled on the beach. Since it’s a small world after all, Mauritzio – the enigmatic co-tour leader who accompanied us on the Costa Rica trip of 2011 – was there with his own group, clearly drunk as it was the end of their tour too. A warm embrace, an almost-fight with someone in our group over a bottle of wine and a cigarette puffed overhead and he went back to his group, good to see he’s still alive 🙂
Next stop was a helluva night at Coco Bongo show and disco club. 730 Mexican pesos gets you an express pass inside to an open bar. That’s about USD60. Clasping long modeling balloons that were given out while we waiting in line (WTF?), we secured a tiny cocktail table on the ground floor and tipped a waiter, Ephraim, to keep us plied with vodka and cranberry, rum and coke, beer, shots etc etc. As the three levels filled up the central bar became a dance floor and some of the cutest boys and heavily made-up though scantiliest-clad girls from the club gyrated, and from our vista, showed us more than we really needed to see. Then there was the little person in yellow suit and green mask with hat a la Jim Carrey in The Mask dancing along with them. Coco Bongo is after all the setting from the movie. Cameron Diaz was nowhere in sight though.
Once the dancers vacated to get ready for the show, some of our girls were invited up on the dance bar to do their best to dance without falling in, all the while bar tenders are mixing trays full of drinks for waiters and passing them between dancing legs, and helping out dancing girls who fell in, usually hitting heads on sinks and fridges…craaaazy!
The show took place on a mezzanine stage with giant screens behind a chorus of dancers and impersonators belting out favourite tunes from musicals like The Phantom of the Opera – complete with an acrobatics display on harness and wire flowing over the central bar covered and converted into a gym floor – Chicago, Moulin Rouge and songs from Michael Jackson, Madonna, Pitbull, Queen, it was always a surprise to see who they emulated next. Interspersed with the song and dance routines were acrobatic shows with high flying superheroes like Spiderman, Tron characters, Adonis’s in not more than sumo belts writhing and twirling on wide ribbons used in circuses, occasionally brushing our faces it was all that close. I exhausted two camera batteries trying to capture it all, I promise to upload soon as I get a chance. In the meantime, get yourself to Playa and get an open bar wristband…you won’t regret anything except the hangover!
As the night went on I made friends with several men and boys who looked cute in the dim lights after apparently making quite the impression with my frenzy of dance moves from up on the dance bar…it was an incredible high letting loose to good music for the first time in a long time, it makes me feel young. I was draped in colourful streamers that tumbled from the ceiling several times over the night, along with white ticker tape, more balloons and blasts of dry ice…party hardy!
A mesmerizing blur of dancing, laughing and sound sensations it was one of the best nights out ever and the hangover wasn’t as bad as expected. Tiredness from the 5am bedtime was more painful – I maintain a night spent dancing will mitigate any decent hangover… Farrrrrk what a day!!
