First week in Mexico

Our first stop after landing in Cancun was Playa del Carmen, some 60km to the south, a lively, yet laid'back town. The first day was divided between the beach and shopping (Jon bought lots of clothes), rounded off by a tasty meal of ceviche and paella, then drinks at an outdoor bar with live music.

Heavy rain greeted us the next morning. The place where we had breakfast even starteed flooding! We beat a hasty retreat from the town and headed for our next destination, Tulum, just 40km or so down the coast. The rain continued for much of the journey, but managed to keep off while we visited our first Mayan ruin, dramatically positioned on rocky terrain with the Caribbean Sea as a backdrop. We then moved on to our accommodation, a wooden cabin, or cabaña, by the sea, fronting a lovely palm-fringed beach. It was in a type of eco-resort, so there was no electricity which meant that everything had to be done by candlelight after around 5:30pm.

While staying in Tulum, we went on a couple of excursions. The first was to a group of cenotes or underground pools/rivers, featuring spectacular stalagmites and stalactites. We did a guided snorkel tour of two cenotes - the first large and airy, the second just a series of unlit narrow tunnels, so pretty claustrophobic! The water was so clear and the cenotes so deep and expansive, that looking down felt almost like flying.

Our second excursion was into the Siaan Kaan biosphere reserve. We took a speedboat trip on a vast lagoon, which was home to crocodiles (spied one resting menacingly by the shore, mouth agape) and many birds. We headed up a river and visited a small Mayan temple, before taking a swim (really a "drift" with the current) through the mangroves.

Our stay in Tulum also included some time on the beautiful, white sand beach and even a free (and rather painful!) morning yoga class. The downside of staying in a beach hut was that it was impossible to keep the mosquitoes at bay, which readily munched us both, and everything got more or less covered with sand. At US$115 per night, primitive living certainly came at a price.

After 3 nights in Tulum and a last barefoot jog along the beach, we continued our journey to Mahahual, which the guidebook had described as an idyllic fishing village south of the biosphere. The two-hour car journey there, down dead-straight roads, flanked on either side by flat rainforeest and punctuated by just one town, was tedious in the extreme. Soon after turning off the main road to drive the last 50km to Mahahual, I remarked on a metal road gantry, which had been bent double. Then I saw another and another. Jon mused than maybe this was hurricane damage. The news reports of Hurricane Dean had stated that little damage had occurred in Mexico, as the main force had only hit a rural area. the hotel had informed us that they were carrying out some light repairs and offered a reduced rate, so I´d imagined a charming, white-washed little town with maybe a bit of roofing work going on. How stupid I felt at not having researchyed further when we arrived at what had once been Mahahual, much favoured by cruise-ship toursits, now nothing short of a wreck. The town had been completely destroyed with barely a building left standing, the few remaining palm trees sad and bent, the mangrove backdrop dead, debris covering the beach, skinny dogs picking their way through the rubble. Of course, we were the only guests at our hotel.

At first, I was angry at the Dutch owner, Carolien, for not spelling the situation out to us, but then the anger gave way to compassion, especially after we´d taken a stroll around the "town". We very nearly decided to leave the next day, but decided to make the best of it when we saw the beautiful room, restored so lovingly, and when carolien told us she could get someone to take us on a snorkel trip to the nearby reef. It wasn´t the big adventure to the Chinchorro atoll that I´d planned, because that was badly damaged by the hurricane, apparently, but it was something. The reef was actually in remarkably good condition (I´d feared the worst after seeing a graveyard of conch shells and corel sea fans piled up on the beach) and there were plenty of colourful fish to be seen. Unfortunately, the trip was cut short by Jon injuring himself on a sea urchin (I heard him moaning, then saw a hand waving around with spines protruding from it). The boat man told Jon that the vessel were in had been found 5km down the coast after the hurricane.

Back at the hotel, there was really nothing to do. The weather was looking ominous, but we were hungry, so headed into "town" and had chicken fajitas in the most sturdy-looking cafe we could find, which was still a far cry from anywhere I´d normally eat in. I suspect we were their only lunch customes, but at least we were doing something to help the local economy!

We´ve done more since I jotted all this down on hand-written notes, but I´ll save that for the next blog, as I have to go to dinner now!

Oily trouble

Last Wednesday, in dense fog, a cargo ship crashed into the blocked-off area protecting the Bay Bridge from collisions. The crash created a gash in the side of the ship, through which leaked 58,000 gallons of oil. There have been criticisms that the relevant agencies were not informed quickly enough, and the oil was allowed to spread for several hours before action was taken. The end result is many oiled birds and pollution throughout the area. We experienced it first hand on Sunday when we went for our usual jog to Crissy Field. All the beaches were cordoned off, and there was a distinct smell of oil at nearby Aquatic Park. A dead seabird lay on the steps leading down to the beach. Rangers were out looking for injured wildlife at Crissy Field. It was heart-breaking.

We stuck around San Francisco at the weekend, but had a night out with our friend, Rob on Friday night. He flew back to England on Saturday. We had a cocktail at his very glamourous hotel downtown, followed by dinner at Café Prague, an authentic corner of Eastern Europe in California, then headed to Vesuvio for more drinks! It rained all day on Saturday, but we went over to Berkeley in the evening to James’ place for a poker night. Of course, we lost! Sunday was a beautiful day. After our jog, we went tea-tasting in Chinatown. I’d been meaning to do that for ages. We purchased a Siberian rose tea and a green tea. Then, in the evening, we headed to the cinema at the Embarcadero Center for a screening that formed part of the International Film Festival. My friends from Italian class had come up with the idea of going, because the first film was an Italian one. It was preceded by a reception in an art gallery and a brief introduction by the producer. However, none of us really understood the film, and that had nothing to do with the language, but rather the excessively large number of characters and the complete lack of plot cohesion.

We’re now getting ready for our trip to Mexico. I’ve been working hard, so I’m really ready for a break. The holiday will almost certainly mean there’ll be a break in blogging, for which I apologize.

Quaking earth and legs

Last Tuesday we had an earthquake – the biggest we’ve experienced, and, as it happens, the biggest in the Bay Area since Loma Prieta in 1989. I was still at work, even though it was just after 8 p.m. The room shook around for a good thirty seconds, but when I went out on the street afterwards, everyone was acting like nothing had happened! It was 5.6 on the Richter scale with an epicentre near San Jose.

Wednesday was Halloween. We didn’t do anything to celebrate it, but a few people dressed up at work. I hadn’t fully appreciated the fact that Americans use Halloween as an excuse to dress up as anything, not necessarily as something scary, so it was slightly odd to be in the office with a Roman and a sexy nurse. On Friday, however, we went down to the Mission district for an event that was much more Halloween than Halloween for me, the “Día de los Muertos”, or Day of the Dead. This is traditionally a Mexican celebration, but has of course been fully adopted in the Hispanic quarter of the city. It comprised a parade of people dressed in ghoulish attire, such as skeleton costumes, carrying candles for lost loved ones. The procession ended at a park, where local artists had made shrines, some of which were really ingenious – there was even a car that had been turned into a memorial. It is intended as a day to celebrate the dead rather than a sad and mournful occasion. Afterwards we got some food at a Taqueria, but for once it was a bit disappointing.

Yesterday, after a week of feeling fatigued and not wanting to exercise, we decided it was time to grace the gym with our presence. It was a beautifully sunny and warm day, so in the afternoon, after enjoying a coffee on the terrace of our favourite café, we hired bikes for a couple of hours and cycled to the Golden Gate Bridge and back, stopping off at the beach briefly along the way. It was hard to believe that one of the best beach days of the year was with us in November! Afterwards, we headed downtown to do a spot of shopping, then grabbed some dinner in Chinatown on the way back.

Today, we awoke to another gorgeous morning, which was even better for being an hour longer – the clocks went back in the night, a week later than in the U.K. We set off on our run, but were thwarted after only five minutes or so, when we reached the beach at Aquatic Park, because there was a Half Marathon going on, which ended there and blocked our usual running route. We decided to run to the Ferry Building on the Embarcadero instead, so set off in that direction, taking in the sealions on Pier 39 en route – at my insistence. We stopped at the end of the huge wooden pier by the Ferry Building and admired the view, before setting off back. There’s no obvious return route from there, but I suggested that we should really challenge ourselves by “jogging” up the Greenwich Steps. This is a staircase comprising several hundred steps, which clings to the steep eastern side of Telegraph Hill leading to Coit Tower. Well, there wasn’t much jogging done, as even walking up was enough to give most people a heart attack, but managed to get up and back down the other side, and it made for a scenic route home.

Rob, our friend from university who works for Google, came over late morning, and we set out to Marin to enjoy a bit of hiking. We didn’t end up walking as far as we’d intended, because the car park for our chosen hike was full, but we strolled some of the trails on the top of Mount Tamlpais, which afforded truly spectacular views of the city, ocean, Point Reyes and the Bolinas Lagoon. It turned out well for us, as our legs weren’t really up to the 1,500 feet descent and ascent we’d originally planned – not after the earlier Greenwich Steps jaunt, anyway. We then drove down to Stinson Beach and bought ice cream, which we enjoyed on the sand. There were plenty of people out sunbathing and splashing around. I had a good paddle myself in the deliciously cold water, then soaked up some sunshine. We drove back on stunning Highway 1 and dropped Rob off at his hotel downtown.