10 days in the Yucatan Peninsula
As I listen to Vicente Fernandez’s deep, heart-wrenching vocals echo in my ear, I am brought back to the fast-paced streets of Yucatan Peninsula, where I spent hours wandering the century-old paths in an attempt to grasp Mexico’s fire and flame.
In the past couple of years, I have had the privilege of seeing many countries. Now, it seems like a sham for me to say that I’ve visited Mexico, when 10 days in the Yucatan Peninsula can only be categorized as a struggling attempt to capture the essence of this vibrant region.
For many, Mexico may be synonymous with Cancún. The resort-dominate city sits on the Caribbean’s peaceful waters. Its nightlife and beautiful weather attract millions of visitors a year.
For many, Mexico is synonymous with carefree vacationing. Unlimited piña colada and mouth-watering tacos in lavish restaurants.
Yet, in recent years, the fight over narco turfs rose with the rise in tourism. It is unfortunate to see that the once peaceful waters of Cancun be subjugated to intensifying clashes. It is frustrating to see foreigners who come to the city for fleeting pleasures, leave behind a blazing trail of irreversible losses.
Unfortunately, this was not the only time that I've come head to head with the underbelly of tourism. In Colombia, I spoke to locals that told me it was not unexpected to meet tourists looking for a quick fix, banking on the notorious fame left by those like Pablo Escobar.
I don't always remember conversations I've had, but conversations such as these are hard to forget. Their look of resignment, combined with offence and slight disgust stay with me.
"I've never even touched cocaine," one of them had said.
These talks had always made me wonder how can tourism be done more sustainability, more ecologically, more considerate of those on ground. How do we navigate away from the narrative of vacationing to that of dialogue exchange, culture immersion. It doesn't mean aversion to being carefree, but it does mean being conscious of unconscious entitlement. And I often forget, as I travel frugally and slowly, that I still have been benefiting from the privilege afforded to me because of the color of my passport.
With all this and more, I trailed from vibrant Mérida to cozy Valladolid, from the gorgeous lagoon in Bacalar to beach town Tulum, intentionally leaving behind the hustles and bustles of Cancún for another day.
As the capital of the Yucatan Peninsula, Mérida is the largest city in the region. The city is home to beautiful Spanish colonial architecture and broad, spacious boulevards influenced by the Parisian cityscape.
Lavish villas, government housings, and royal households sit along Paseo de Montejo.
My host was a laid-back soul who lived on the outskirts of downtown. He shares his spacious bungalow with his sister, a cat, and a puppy. During my 3 day visit, I discovered a burning love for torta, which consists of a scoop of delicious meaty sauce atop fluffy white bread.
Other than feeding my stomach, the city fed my soul. On my second day, I spent some 6 hours in the burning summer heat wandering around streets and streets of colorful houses, hidden statues, and beaming history. From the buzzing of Plaza Grande to the magnificent Altare della Patria, it was a treat seeing the everchanging colors as I ventured into different neighborhoods.
The next day, I met up with Melanie, a traveler from Seattle who was just as eager to visit Uxmal-an ancient city from the Mayan period. A few hours away by bus, the historical ground is home to some handsomely preserved Puuc style buildings. Although it isn't as well-known as Chichén Itzá, Uxmal’s Pyramid of the Magician and the Governor’s Palace are definitely worth a visit.
On our way back, Melanie told me that she was planning on heading to Valladolid to see Chichén Itzá. Despite being hesitant to squeeze another city onto my somewhat packed schedule, I decided it had been a hot minute since I've crossed another World Wonder off my bucket list. This is the beauty of traveling solo.
Within an hour, my plans changed from staying in Mérida for a week to embracing another two cities- Valladolid and Bacalar, a small town with apparently, unbelievably blue waters. The next morning, I boarded a bus to Valladolid, where we met two amazing girls that studied agriculture and planting. We all went to Cenote Suytun before myself and Melanie headed to Chichén Itzá the next day. Although we saw Chichen Itza in the afternoon, I hear this ancient Mayan city is absolutely beautiful during sunrise.
Cenotes are a common phenomenon in the Yucatan Peninsula. As natural sinkholes, these geological forms come in all shape and sizes. Some sit graciously in the open while others are underground and hidden.
Cenote Suytun can be categorized within the latter. Just about 15 minutes outside the city, the space was barely touched throughout our visit. The minute we headed downstairs and entered the cavern, I was awestruck. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, daylight and water streamed through an opening above. The pool was chilly and refreshing. And our swims were accompanied by a handful of fish.
I headed to Bacalar afterward, a last minute decision that quickly became my favorite destination.
Here, people enjoyed their days by Lake Bacalar under the sun. Everyone seemed to know each other.
My host was utterly fascinating. A scientist (how cool!) from India, she met her German boyfriend in Congo before they decided to relocate to Mexico. They recently purchased a tour boat that he operates during the day. Jey also hosts popular Indian feasts that spiced up my soul. For those visiting Bacalar, do contact Jey and participate in this fun-loving event.
That night, we met a couple of German travelers and quickly became friends with the happy bunch. A group of childhood friends, they planned yearly getaways around the world. It was inevitable that Jey invited them over for lunch on their last day in town. So there I was, helping cook an Indian meal for a bunch of foreigners in a small village in Mexico. It was a curious adventure.
The most intriguing aspect of Bacalar was the number of adrift artists that wandered the streets. Creatives from around the world come and stay by the lagoon, turning the town into a hippie utopia. Some artists would negotiate a stay and a couple of meals for their brilliant work. When I was just about leaving Bacalar, Jey began talks with a couple of people to re-brand her simple bungalow. From its original white walls and minimalist surroundings to a mixture of colors, it is not difficult to see how talented these people were!
My new German friends quickly convinced me to hitch a ride with them to my last destination in the Yucatan Peninsula. As quick as were my days in Bacalar, I grabbed my backpack and was on my way to Tulum, another beautiful beach-side town in the state of Quintana Roo within the Yucatan Peninsula.
Soon enough, I contacted a host in the area. Nico hand braided beautiful pieces for sale. His work is gorgeous, using big bold colors that often incorporated a stunning solid mineral as the centerpiece.
At the time, Nico was hosting another traveler as well. A Turkish native, Belve was biking from Los Angeles to Rio de Janeiro, an incredible year-long journey through some of the roughest neighborhoods in the world.
Roughest, I say, because just months prior, Belve’s biking friend Holger, an experienced German biker lost his life while passing Chiapas. Belve was devasted. “Biking is a lonely journey,” he tells me, “when you meet a fellow traveler on the road, they become family.” He biked with Holger for a month before they parted ways.
So here, I end the writing with mixed feelings. And leave the ending of these 10 days for another evening.