Yucatan 2016: The Experience - Days 3, 4 - "Many Partings" and "The Return Journey"

1/18/15, “Many Partings”

Palenque, Chiapas, Mexico

Not long after I finish writing this entry, Roberto and I will part ways, and our trip has come full circle.  We are at a Mayan archaeological site not dissimilar from our first stop at Chichen Itza, and I am similarly writing my entry in view of the structure from the inscription photo.  It has been approximately 50 hours, but it feels as if we have been travelling together forever.  I will be back at my desk in about 20 hours, and back to my normal routines.  It has been a very enjoyable trip, and we have appeared to have done what Roberto initially thought unthinkable, visit all 6 sites in a three-day weekend.  After I finish this entry, I will leave Roberto in the town of Palenque and continue on the airport in Villahermosa, where I will connect once more at Benito Juarez.  That is familiar.  This trip, my first time in the tropical part of Mexico since I set out to see the world is unfamiliar, though not that dissimilar from some of my other trips to Central America.  In fact, a year ago today, I was in Belize.  A year from now, I will likely be in Haiti, which will be my last country to visit in North America.

There is not much to report since I closed in Escarcega last night.  Of course, we drank.  And smoked.  Roberto had his second cigar ever, a small H. Upmann, and a Destino Siglo for me, while we each swigged from our own half pint of rum.  Roberto thought that I might have been Cuban in a past life.  I offered instead maybe I used to be a pirate.  He liked that idea.  Meanwhile, I was messaging with my friends about different movie awards and the usual conversations.  I also played some various music from my laptop.

After the cigar, it was time to go bed.  There was just one small problem.  My phone was almost dead.  My laptop was almost dead.  We didn’t have enough outlets.  There was one outlet by the bed, which I needed for my sleep machine.  The only outlet I could use for my laptop was far from the bed, but Roberto needed it for his phone.  Once we got in the car in morning, I could charge everything, including the laptop, but I would need a decent charge on my phone in case I wanted to continue my conversations in the morning.  Well, I wound up charging my phone by the bed, while I was half asleep, until it got to a quarter charge, which I figured would last it until the morning.  Yes, that worked.

In the morning, we got ready and got in the car, where I was able to charge everything.  The album for today would be our final Taylor Swift album: Speak Now.  We were a little tight on time, but not too bad.  We stopped for gas by the highway, and there was a Burger King there, but it wouldn’t open until 9 AM.  We figured this would be our best chance for food, so we waited.  They only had lunch food.  Fine, that would do.  We got our food and hit the road.  The meal was quite good, and I lit up a Fuente afterwards.  We soon got to a border checkpoint to enter the state of Chiapas, which was far more extensive than any checkpoint we had seen so far.  I closed my eyes for a bit, and we were soon at Palenque.

Once we got there, we found the Plaque at the entrance and the Palace, which was featured in the inscription photo.  I lit up my Trinidad, my last one, and we took our ceremonial pictures.  Just as in Chichen Itza, Roberto wanted to explore some more, and I wanted to write my entry.  This time, we made sure we both were clear on where to meet.  I got my souvenirs and then headed to a bench in view of the Palace, where I sat down and proceeded to write this entry.  I was soon told I couldn’t smoke, just like in Chichen Itza.  Roberto was back before long, and I will now close so that I can finish my cigar and begin the return journey.

Carlos Rovirosa Pérez International Airport, Tabasco, Mexico (VSA)

Ah, at last, the triumphant airport entry.  I am now smoking a well-deserved Opus X Angel’s Share.  Other than a little adversity with the raw sewage, the trip has been a perfect success.  We are already planning our next trip.  After I closed, I relit the cigar, and we drove to the town of Palenque.  I wanted to finish or almost finish my cigar before I left him, and I had plenty of time.  He had even more time.  We hung around until it was time for us to leave.  We then took some ceremonial pictures as we planned future trips together.  It was the parting of the ways.  Yes, my astute reader, the title of these two past entries are taken from Lord of the Rings.  Roberto wants to come to New York in May, and I told him I’d take him to Philly and Boston if he comes, along with showing him around New York.  In the fall, we will do another trip together in Mexico.

There are only a few trips left for me in Mexico, possibly as few as three, but five max.  One of them could just be Cabo, which I want to save for my last trip, when I say Mexico complete.  I like the idea of, having visited every WHS in Mexico without going to the beach, flying into Cabo, taking a picture at the Plaque, announcing “Mexico Complete,” and then spending the rest of the weekend on the beach, finally.  There are also 2 other WHS in Baja California Sur, which are very hard to access and not at all near Cabo, nor close to a big airport.  There are 4 WHS left in Central Mexico, including the new one by Mexico City and two by Oaxaca.  That is probably doable in a weekend, easily doable in a 3-day weekend or split as two weekends.  That leaves the two by the border with the US.  That was the one we were discussing.  I would fly into El Paso, go across the border to Juarez, and we’d drive to both of them in the weekend before I flew home.  I had originally been planning on doing it by renting a car out of Phoenix.  We will figure that out.

There are, I believe 33 WHS in Mexico.  I started trying to complete them less than three years ago, and I now only have 9 left.  I will be going to the Bahamas in a few weeks, just an overnight stay when I visit my parents in Florida.  I will also need to revisit Jamaica to see the Blue Mountains.  I want to do the DR and Haiti, each with their own WHS and capital, as a 3-day weekend.  Then I need to do a trip to PR and the VI next year.  Also, my mother and I will likely visit San Antonio in the fall.  I have three or four more trips to Canada, too.  That’s it.  That’s all that’s required for me to be able to make my Hawaii trip the trip that allows me to say, “North America Complete.”

This has been the most grinding of all my travel goals, and there has been so much adversity and near misses along the way.  I’m thinking of my adventures with Fernando in Central America, my solo trips to Panama and Costa Rica, each with their own scares.  I’m thinking of how we miraculously managed to do Cuba Complete, despite Ernesto’s constant doubts.  However, I’m also thinking of the trips where I was mopey and depressed and could barely enjoy myself, just going through the motions.  I’m thinking of Belize and Carlsbad.

However, those are far outweighed by the good times.  I’m thinking of all the relaxing evenings I spent in the Caribbean, whether it was that unforgettable night in Kingstown or just enjoying myself at the hotel in Basseterre, not worrying about anything.  I’m thinking of the last great summer road trip adventure I took with my mother last summer, along with my extension in the Canadian Prairie.  I’m thinking of the Alaska/Canada trip I took with my friend the year before that.  I’m thinking of all the relaxing times I had in Canada and its natural beauty, whether it was 24 hours of daylight or the Northern Lights.  Those were the good times, and they more than enough to forgive a mopey weekend in Belize or an even mopeyer day driving from Alburqurque to El Paso.

I have just under 20 months to complete my goals, so I am definitely entering the home stretch.  North America Complete is definitely within sight.  Outside of North America, there are only eight or nine trips I need to take to finish my goals.  There are two to South America, one of which will be in a month to Peru, the other one for the Olympics this summer.  There are four to Europe, all of which I intend to take this year, Antwerp, Greece, London, and Rome.  There is also one to Asia, to see Everest, a second one if I decide to go to Iraq.  That just leaves the trip to Australia at the end of this year.

That means, if everything goes according to plan, I won’t need to leave the continent in 2017.  Oh, wait, the Iceland/Greenland trip.  Technically that is to fulfill North America complete, so I forgot to list it earlier.  That will be my big summer trip next year, but I consider Iceland to be at least half in North America, and all of Greenland is in North America.  There are some other trips I am considering for 2017, if time and money allows, such as Angkor Wat or the Galapagos Islands or Svalbard and the North Pole.  However, none of those are required to fulfill my goals.  It will be an exciting 20 months, and exhausting, too, I suppose.

Anyway, after I left Roberto, I finished my conversation with my friend about sequels and remakes and then got on the road.  I had forgotten to download Les Miz to my phone after I rebooted it, and that is my traditional last drive music.  That didn’t stop me, however, from lighting up my Avo, the traditional last drive cigar, and put on Avril Lavigne’s “Let Go.”  I had plenty of time, and I made even better time than GPS predicted, even as I had to manage the checkpoints on my own with my mediocre Spanish.  As I mentioned, earlier, I had trouble spending money this trip, and I had way too many pesos left.

When I got to the gas station, not far from the airport, I still had five largish banknotes left, worth a little more than the banknotes you would usually get from an ATM machine in the States.  I did not want to come home with that much in pesos.   I used one for gas, and I figured I’d buy some snacks to take home to use the rest.  I got as many snacks as I could carry.  It only came out to one of those banknotes.  I even got a new charger and aux cord.  Reader, this was enough for a small Super Bowl party, and it cost about the price of a case of beer.  How was everything so cheap?  Well, you gotta love the weak peso.

I was soon at the airport, where I found Dollar, Avis, and Europcar, but no Hertz.  Hmm.  I kept circling around and getting conflicting answer.  It was three hours before my flight, so I had time, but this was annoying.  Eventually I figured it out, actually by chance, that I had to drop off the car in a special parking lot (I had asked the attendant where Hertz was, and it turned out to be that lot) and then bring the car inside.  That worked.  I dropped off the keys and went to check-in while they checked the car.  I still had plenty of time, and I was starving, so I got a sandwich at the Subway inside the airport.  It was half the price of what I would have expected to pay at the Subway a block from my apartment.  After I closed, I headed outside and lit up my Opus.  I sat down on the bench, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can finish my cigar and head to my gate.

Benito Juarez International Airport, Federal District, Mexico (MEX)

Well, isn’t that a familiar dateline!  In fact, other than “New York, New York,” it might be the most familiar one of all.  Other than my apartment or the cigar store, it might be the most familiar view for an entry.  This is the fourth time I have sat in this spot, with this view, and written an entry.  They have been four very different trips, but finding the familiar within the familiar, that’s what this Travelogue is about. The view is simple, but familiar, unlike the views from Kas, the Drake Passage, Jackson, or Alexandria, where I have previously smoked my 2013 Christmas Pipe.  There is no WHS that awaits me in the morning, just the rest of the return journey.  This will not be the last time I write from here, I don’t think.  I will write from here again at least once more, maybe two or three more times.

Each time I have written from here has been under different circumstances.  The first time, I fucked up, and didn’t check in before my entry, which led to me being denied boarding due to a late check-in.  The second time, I checked in first, and everything worked out right.  The third time was connecting back from Guadalajara, but I went through connections, which made leaving the airport a hassle.  This time, I went straight to the exit, and I got outside with no problem.  Actually, maybe that’s theme here.  These are in pairs, the first two times I was dropped off at the airport, the other two times I connect from another city.  Each pair, I messed something up the first time and learned better for the second time.

My previous entry was about the future.  This will be the reflective entry about the past, though there is not much left to write.  The first time I went to Mexico was a family trip to Cancun.  I made friends with a snorkeling instructor who had a dream of buying his own boat.  It was a small dream.  It is funny the things you remember from when your age was still in the single digits.  When I got home, I got a letter from Publisher’s Clearing House, one of those misleading letters that makes you think you won something.  Or maybe it was addressed to my parents, but they said I could have it.  My parents asked me what I would do with the money.  Among other things, I said I would buy my snorkeling instructor friend his boat.  My oldest friend, the same friend I went to Alaska with two summers ago, said it would be my parents’ money.  They agreed, I believe, if they won they’d by the snorkeling instructor his boat.  I remember my dad, after haggling, buying me a mariachi guitar, and maybe a sombrero.  I’m sure I still have it.  My brother just cared about going to the tiki bar where he could legally drink as a high school teenager and practice his Spanish while hitting on whoever caught his eye.  CFBS.  Always.

The next trip to Mexico came about 15 years later, though it’s hardly a trip to Mexico.  I was going to Los Angeles for a philosophy conference, and I figured I would, among other things, dip into Tijuana for an hour.  I went to the Casa de Habanos, where I got Mexican food and tequila delivered while I smoked my cigar.  I got another six cigars to bring back with me and had a box of Cohibas shipped to my office.  Thus begun the tradition of smoking a Cuban at every WHS and US National Park.  I was only supposed to be there for the weekend, but Hurricane Sandy turned that into a 7-day trip.  I was only supposed to visit 2 National Parks.  I wound up visiting 5 (or maybe 6), and I smoked a Cuban at each one.  That opened up the possibility of attempting to visit every US National Park as one of my goals.

The next trip was my first trip to Central Mexico, the first time I flew to Mexico on a plane by myself, the first trip with extensive driving, and my first trip with Enrique.  I wanted to do it all, an extensive trip to visit all the WHS in central Mexico.  That was not possible.  We had to omit the two in Oaxaca from that trip, but we saw everything else.  I also wanted to visit the Olympic Stadium and the Paricutin Volcano, a Natural Wonder of the World.  I couldn’t get inside the Olympic Stadium.  I would need to come back.  It was almost two years before I came back, timing it to coincide with a soccer match and the butterfly season so that I could also visit the Monarch Butterfly reserve WHS.  We threw in El Tajin for good measure, too, along with a picture in front of the legislative building.  I believe I even stayed at the same hotel as from the previous trip.  This time I booked Enrique privately, instead of through a tour group.

Enrique and I talked about another trip based out of Guadalajara.  He would meet me there, and we would attempt to visit all 8, I believe, World Heritage Sites in that region.  He thought it was impossible, but, with a little prodding, he agreed, though I’m not entirely sure he realized quite what I had in mind.  We did that six months later, and it was the first time I connected at Benito Juarez.  When we got there, he once more thought it was impossible.  More prodding, and he agreed to go through with it.  It was rough going, but it worked out in the end.  We then talked about going to the Yucatan in January.

Meanwhile, during that trip, I connected with Roberto, and he also expressed interest in doing the trip.  I knew I could not do it with both of them, and I decided it would be better to make the trip with Roberto instead of hiring Enrique to fly out to Cancun and work for me for three days as a tour guide.  I think I made the right choice.  That was this trip, as I have described, very different than the other trips, and the first time I have driven myself.  It has been a great trip, and I have had a lot of fun with Roberto.  We are both very much looking forward to our next trip together, whether it be to Boston or Chihuahua or Oaxaca.

There are 9 WHS left for me to visit in Mexico, and I have a feeling Roberto will accompany me to most of them.  I am now three-quarters of the way to saying “Mexico Complete.”  Once I finished the CA-4 trip in April 2014, I always knew that Mexico (and Cuba) would be the biggest impediment to attempting North America Complete.  When I finished Cuba, I saw the end in sight, and a week later, I did the Guadalajara trip, which brought me past the halfway point and made Mexico Complete seem obtainable.  This trip has brought me into the home stretch.

Anyway, after I closed, I headed through security, got a cappuccino, which I paired with some Oreos, and headed to the gate.  I tried to sleep on the plane, but I wound up reading the whole in-flight magazine instead.  I never read the whole thing, usually just skimming through it, always back to front, but this was actually an interesting issue.  I always collect the magazine.  I have a lot of them.  A lot.  We soon landed, and I stopped at the 7-11 to get a pizza and some soda, Diet Dr. Pepper. After that, I headed to my familiar spot, but, it was occupied.  NOOOOO!!!!!  There were two girls sitting there, but they soon got up.  I then sat down in my spot, where I lit up my 2013 Christmas Pipe and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can figure out how to spend the remainder of the three hours I have before I need to head to the gate.  I suppose I’ll spend most of it the same way I did last time: trip planning and budgeting.

1/19/16, “The Return Journey”

Aboard Aeromexico 400, En route MEX-JFK

This is now the third time I have flown home on AM 400.  It should have been four times, but I checked in too late the first time in May 2013 and was denied boarding.  I almost missed my flight again today?  Why?  I had a 6-hour layover, and my connecting flight was on-time.  How could I possibly have almost missed my flight?  Well, it was out of sheer stupidity, and it is a very interesting story.

After I closed, I went to get a donut and some coffee.  Somehow I wound up with three donuts.  I ate two of them before I headed back outside to my spot.  I then lit up an Undercrown and worked on adjusting my budgeting and finances.  I had come in under budget on this trip, and I was pleased to see my budget was back on track after having overspent a bit at the end of last year.  I adjusted my trip list and updated my checklists.  I then moved on to my next task.

I wanted to figure out my trip to Peru to see Machu Piccu, and it was starting to look untenable if I wanted to do it as 3-day weekend with an overnight within the sanctuary.  I would either need to do it as a 4-day trip, which was not the best option, or do the site as a day trip from Cuzco, which was an even worse option.  Also, I only had internet on my phone, and it was hard to figure out the train schedules and such like that.  I would need my laptop to have internet to do it properly.  It is in less than a month now, so I need to start booking everything right away.

This is the least accessible of the New7 sites.  Petra is a bit tricky, as it is a bit of a far distance from Tel Aviv, but you can get there by car easily enough, maybe like 5 hours to the border with Jordan, and another 2 hours to Petra.  Taj Mahal is a 3-hour drive from Delhi, a major international airport.  The Great Wall is a 2-hour taxi drive from Beijing, also a major international airport.  Christ the Redeemer and the Colosseum are easily accessible from cities with direct flights from Kennedy (Rio and Rome).

Now, reader, if those don’t exactly sound like around the corner, they are nothing compared to Machu Piccu.  Lima has a direct flight from Kennedy, and you can then take a connecting flight to Cuzco.  From Cuzco, you must proceed by bus and train to the station at Machu Piccu.  Then you have to walk quite a bit to the site.  It is not easy.  Not at all.  Even if my entire goal for the trip was to take a ceremonial picture in the sanctuary and turn around, it would be very difficult to do that in a 3-day weekend, impossible to do it in 2-day weekend.  That doesn’t even allow time in Lima or Cuzco.  I hope I can do it as a 4-day trip with overnights in Lima, Cuzco, and Machu Piccu.  I would like that.  Otherwise, I’ll see what I can do about making it a 3-day weekend.

I gave up on figuring it out tonight, and I was dead tired.  I was no longer enjoying my cigar.  I left it in the ashtray and had the third donut.  I then proceeded through security and was disappointed to find the shop that usually sells cigars no longer sold them.  I headed to my gate.  It was about 12:30 AM at this point.  The flight was scheduled for 1:30 AM, but it got delayed until 1:55 AM.  I plugged in my electronics and sat down.  How then did I almost miss my flight?

I fell asleep.  I woke up with a start.  Where was everyone?  Oh no.  Did I miss my flight?  I raced to the counter.  Was I too late?  No, but if I had woken up 15 minutes later, I might have missed it.  I was the last one to board, and there was no room for my bag in the overhead at this point.  That would mean I had to gate check it.  Fuck.  The flight would be delayed, and I would have to wait for my bag.  That would mean I would probably be late to work.  Ugh.  I was supposed to be half an hour early.  Anyway, I took out my souvenirs, as I did want to risk losing/breaking them, and most of my snacks, as I did not want to risk them crushing and getting all over my suitcase.

I got on the plane, and fortunately there was room above the overhead for the snacks, souvenirs, and my computer bag.  To make matters worse, since I had slept for a full REM cycle, I was not at all tired.  That meant that I would have trouble sleeping on the flight.  I sat down in my seat, where I proceeded to write this entry, starting it while we were at the gate, and writing it nonstop through taxi and takeoff, surprised that I wasn’t made to put away my laptop.  Meanwhile, I tried to pick out some music.  I tried a couple of pop artists who looked good, but I didn’t like either of their music.  In the end, I settled on Jamie Lawson, one of my best friend’s favorite new artists, someone about whose music we have shared dozens of texts in appreciation.  Anyway, I will now close so that I can try to get some sleep.

En route, NYC Taxi 8B16

Nothing new to report.  I fell asleep quickly enough and then was woken up by the announcement that we were making our descent.  My bag came out quicky, and I cleared Customs easily.  I then went to the taxi line, and I got in the taxi, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish Days 3 and 4 as a pair, along with closing out this trip.  Next stop: Florida to visit my parents, whom I haven’t seen in close to a month, along with a brief shot over to The Bahamas to check that off.

Yucatan 2016: The Experience - Day 2 - The Road Goes Ever On

1/17/16, “The Road Goes Ever On”

Calakmul, Campeche, Mexico

I have written these entries from some very scenic spots in six different continents.  This vista might make the top ten.  We have at last come to the end of the road once more, just as we did this morning.  In fact, since we left our hotel 10 hours ago, I would wager we spent close to 9 of those hours on the road.  It was always going to be a tough shot to fit Si’an and Calakmul in the same day.  We did it, with no small share of adversity as our prize.

I slept or rested for most of the way to Si’an, which included a long drive down a dirt road to a spot I picked out inside the Biosphere Reserve.  When we finally got there, it seemed clear it first we were in a great spot.  I picked out an H. Upmann for my cigar.  Reader, pay attention to every detail for this part.  The site was known for its marshes.  I saw a broken lighter some empty bottles and figured that we were not the first people to spend time at this beautiful site.  There was a bit of an odd smell, which I attributed to smell from the seawater.  I noticed the ground was wet.  Then my feet started sinking.  Ah, marshes, I thought.  I kept going.  The smell got worse.  I could actually feel the water beneath me.  I was going to get sucked in.  Then it all hit me, the trash on the ground, the smell, the soft ground.

The beach was washed up with raw sewage.  I was almost up to my knees in raw sewage.  Fortunately I was wearing shorts and flips, but that was no small consolation to having sewage on my skin.  We raced back to the car so that I could use our jug of water to wash off.  I lit up my cigar, and we found a nicer spot to take some pictures, but Roberto was upset that we couldn’t find the Plaque, even more upset than I was.  We were ready to get out of there.  We continued back up the road, trying to come back in the same we left.  We failed.  We came to a locked gate after almost an hour.  Uh oh.  This was definitely not the right way.  Also, I couldn’t find my little baggie of cigar bands, and I was afraid I had left it in the hotel.  Well, that was a problem.  We found a guard at the gate, and he opened it up for us.  We were on the dirt road that went all the way back to Felipe Carrillo Puerto.  On the way in, we took the highway and then a shorter dirt road.  We also learned where the Plaque was, but there was not nearly enough time to get there.

We went back to the hotel, no sign of the baggie.  Sure enough, it had fallen next to the seat in the car.  I caught up on social media and posted some pictures.  We then got lunch in town, pork and rice for me, along with a Diet Coke, before making our way to Calakmul, continuing to listen to Taylor Swift’s eponymous 2006 album.  I smoked my new Ardor en route.  We stopped for gas when we were running low and got some very bad coffee there, too.  At that point, I took over the wheel, lit up a Cabaiguan, and put on Fearless.

It was around 2:30 PM Central Time when we got to the turnoff for Calakmul, plenty of time.  We continued down the entrance road, which led to a questionably paved winding road.  The speed limit was 30 km/h for 60 klicks.  That was not happening.  It would have taken 2 hours.  I did it in 45 minutes.  I was in the zone.  I felt like Poe Dameron behind the controls of his X-wing.  I nailed every curve perfectly.  We got to the VC and took our picture with the Plaque.

This site, which so reminds me of Tikal, is inscribed under both cultural and natural criteria.  We have, as of yet, been unable to find the inscription photo.  I lit up a Partagas as we headed to the main pyramid.  We walked up to the top, where I found this breathtaking vista and proceeded to write my entry, which I will now close so that we can take some more ceremonial pictures and hopefully find the inscription photo before we get back on the road.

Escarcega, Campeche, Mexico

“Tonight, we drink.”  That has almost become my mantra for the day, reassuring Roberto we would finally enjoy ourselves tonight.  When I set out to see the world, I did not intend for it to be a relaxing, nor did I expect it to be easy.  However, I did not expect it to be this hard or exhausting.  I set out to see the world, to see Quebec, Ephesus, Carlsbad, Taipei, and, now, Escarcega.  This would be the least interesting of that bunch, though it does beat out Lincoln, New Hampshire.  These, of course, would be the locations where I’ve smoked my 2012 Christmas Pipe.

This town is a dump, no way around that.  Everything is dirty or dusty.  Everything is cheap.  Dirt cheap.  Literally.  I’m talking a hotel room for the price of parking in New York.  I’m talking a steak dinner with all the fixings, chips, and a drink for the price of a soda at a nice restaurant in New York.  I have come in so far under budget on this trip, it’s crazy.  I’m literally having trouble spending money.  I get snacks, and they’re an order of magnitude cheaper than I expected.  Anyway, tonight, we drink.  Other than a very small and weak piña colada, I have literally not had a drop of alcohol since, well, since I can’t even remember.  Perhaps not since New Year’s?  No, the vodka s’mores I had when I slept over in Brooklyn last weekend would be the last time I drank.

It is a very different trip than the trip most Americans take to Cancun, the trip my new friend from the plane and her group (and the other group) were taking, the trip that is practically synonymous with Cancun, the trip my brother made of it when we went as a family.  That is not me.  I can drink in any city in the world, even New York.  Visiting every World Heritage Site in North America is a different story, and I need all of my rational faculties to pull that off, but, we are nearing the end of our voyage, so, tonight, we drink.  We will drink in a hotel room in Escarcega, instead of on the beach in Cancun.  No matters.  We have done the trip we wanted, not the trip anyone else told us to do.  I’ll take Mayan ruins over drinking on the beach any day of the week.  Or Aztec or whatever they are.  A World Heritage Site is a World Heritage Site, and there aren’t that many left to me now on this continent.

After I closed at the top of the pyramid, we took some ceremonial pictures.  We then made our way down, which was far more treacherous than climbing up.  We looked around to find the inscription photo, but we had no luck.  We could have looked further, but we were running out of daylight, and we hoped to be back on the highway before dark.  We made our way out of the park and to the car.  Roberto, seeing the talent I had applied on the way in, suggested that I drive out, as that would be our best bet for getting as far as possible before dark.  I lit up a Romeo y Julieta for the drive.  Reader, recall that this practically a one-lane road.

As we got on the road, another car pulled in front of us.  I wanted to be out of there in an hour, or less, if we could beat dusk.  The other car was going above the speed limit, but I wanted to go at a much faster clip.  I did not want to be stuck behind the car for an hour and half.  Not at all.  Eventually, I was able to pass the car.  I was back in Poe Dameron mode.  At least until I came up to another car, which quickly pulled over to let me pass.  Poe Dameron mode again.

The sun had set, and dusk was fast approaching, the trees blocking out what little light remained.  It was a tough choice.  The faster I drove, the more dangerous.  The slower I drove, the longer we’d be on that road after dark.  I knew getting to the highway before dusk was no longer an option, but the road would straighten and widen after a while.  Maybe I could get to that spot before dusk.  I think I did an appropriate job mediating the two danger factors.  Eventually, it became too dark to safely drive fast, but it was not long after that point that we got onto the wider and straighter part of the road.

Roberto took over the driving once we got to the highway, and I made a snack out of the equivalent of what a movie theatre calls nachos and cheese.  It was delicious, especially since I was starving.  I then lit up my Ardor Duo Ponto.  I got caught up on my messages and social media once we got a signal outside of Escarcega.  It was not long after I finished the pipe that we arrived in Escarcega, an

I figured out a hotel for us.  I could not believe how cheap it was.  It was 7:45 PM, and Roberto wanted to go to 8 o’clock mass.  He wanted to know if I would eat first or wait for him.  I’d have a snack and wait for him.  Other than my nightly pipe and entry sessions and the time we got lost, this was the first time we’d been apart in the two days of the trip so far.  I settled into the hotel and relaxed a bit before he got back.

We then headed out to dinner.  We both got steak with fried potatoes.  He got a beer, I got a Diet Coke.  We also got some Cheetos.  The entire meal, for both of us, was half the price of the already cheap hotel room.  I was shocked how little everything was costing.  Roberto had known my routine by now, so he asked if I was going to smoke my pipe after dinner.  Of course I was.  He would do some work while I did that.  Afterwards, we would drink.

We went back to the room and got our stuff.  He had to go to the lobby to work, and I determined the best spot for my entry would be right outside the lobby.  I found a spot to sit down, where I lit up my 2012 Christmas Pipe and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish before we get on with our evening.  We have one site for tomorrow, so we can sleep in a bit, and it is still relatively early, before 11 PM local time, which is good because, tonight, we drink.

Yucatan 2016: The Experience - Day 1 - Old Cities

1/16/16, “Old Cities”

Chichen-Itza, Yucatan, Mexico

I told you this wouldn’t be a beach trip.  Where I am now, is the big tourist cultural destination for the beachgoers in Cancun.  It is a New7 Wonder of the World, and a World Heritage Site.  We will be visiting two more today, two tomorrow, and the last one on Monday.  This is the heavily trafficked one.  The others, not so much.  This is the famous one.  The others, not so much.  By the end of this year, I will have visited all of the New7 Wonders of the World, with upcoming trips to Peru, Rio, and Rome required to fulfill that goal.  I believe that I have been here before, but it does not look familiar.  I certainly do not have a ceremonial picture with my cigar and water bottle.  I certainly do not have the replica for my desk.  I have all of that now.

To call this a wonder seems a bit of an overstatement.  Impressive, yes, but more impressive than Stonehenge or the statues on Easter Island?  I think not.  Like the Taj Mahal and unlike the Great Wall, it has the Grand Canyon moment.  It is just one big pyramid, along with some surrounding sites, but the pyramid is the wonder.  The rest are just part of the WHS.

We woke up early and headed downstairs for a meager breakfast.  It had eggs with bacon and other continental fare.  It filled us up.  It also had coffee.  It was enough.  We had a little trouble figuring how to get on the highway, but that did not delay us much.  All told we were only about an hour behind schedule.  We would make that up by switching two sites that would create an extra hour of driving, but it would be end of the day driving, which would not affect our sightseeing.

I put on Red and lit up my Davidoff Escurio Toro once we got on the highway, which indicated the beginning of the first drive of the trip.  I was dead tired.  Once I was done with the cigar, I napped a bit.  We were soon at Chichen-Itza.  We got our tickets and headed through the gate.  We quickly found the Plaque and then tried to determine the best photo spot.  There was one small problem.

In order to recreate the inscription photo we would need to shoot in to the sun.  It was impossible to see anything like that.  I lit up a Cohiba Siglo IV, and we took our ceremonial pictures.  We then headed to the other side to take some better pictures.  I got my souvenirs, and then Roberto took his leave of me to do some more exploring.  I found a nice seat in front of the pyramid, where I sat down and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close as I await Roberto’s return so that we can head to our next site.

Felipe Carrillo Puerto, Quintana Roo, Mexico

Well, it’s been about 15 hours since I closed, and it has been a rather adventurous 15 hours.  While Felipe Carrillo Puerto is not the recognizable name of Quebec or Hong Kong, the eponymous capitals of their subnational entities, where I have previously smoked my 2011 Christmas Pipe, it is no less intriguing of a locale.  It is the closest outpost of civilization to our first destination for tomorrow, Si’an World Heritage Site.  I use that term loosely.  It is basically a rundown village with a hotel.  It is the middle of the jungle.  This road in front of me is the main highway.  Our hotel is right off of it.  I am dead tired, and we need to wake up in not much more than three hours, so I will not be able to properly do justice to today’s events, though I will try my best.

After I closed, I waited for Roberto, and then I waited some more.  I did not think he would be late.  He was in as much of a rush as I was to get to the next two sites.  Incidentally, today will be my last ever day that I visit three new World Heritage Sites in North America.  The ones that remain are just too scattered to ever triple up.  Actually, wait, no, that’s not true.  Depending on how I time two trips in Atlantic Canada, I might get one or two more of those days.

Anyway, Roberto.  He didn’t come.  I looked around for him.  No, something was wrong.  My first thought was maybe he thought I said to meet him by the entrance.  But, then, wouldn’t he have seen me by the pyramid.  I started to panic.  We were tight for time, or so I thought.  What if I couldn’t find him?  What would I do?  Well, I asked around, showing a picture of him.  The guard told me that he had gone to the observatory about five minutes ago.  No, that couldn’t be.  It had already been half an hour at that point.  I checked anyway.  Someone else confirmed they had seen him walking back from the observatory to the pyramid.  I looked all over.  Still couldn’t find him.  I kept looking.  We did not have a signal inside, but we would by the entrance.  I asked vendors along the way back to the entrance, along with a guard by the entrance.

No one had seen him.  Where could he be?  I walked back to the pyramid.  I came up with a plan.  I would check by the entrance, and, if he wasn’t there, I’d break down in tears and call my mother and see if she could find him.  It seemed as good of a plan as any.  “Migo!”  I turned around.  There was Roberto walking towards me.  Sure enough, he had been by the entrance all along, which was my first instinct.  We could have saved half an hour if I had gone there right away.  It cost us lunch.

We made our to our next destination, another Mayan city, Uxmal, and I relit my Cohiba.  We got pulled over for speeding.  A small bribe made that go away.  I took a bit of a nap en route, as we continued to listen to Taylor Swift.  Soon enough, we were at Uxmal.

We grabbed a quick bite to eat (pizza and Diet coke for me) at the entrance.  I just wanted to take a picture at the plaque, light my cigar, and take a picture at the inscription photo.  It’s funny, since Roberto follows me on social media so much, he knows all my routines.  He knows all my little rituals.  There were no shocks for him in my abbreviated visits to these sites.

After the Plaque, I lit up a Punch, and we found the inscription photo at the Governor’s Palace, which involved a steep climb in the sweltering heat.  As were leaving, it finally hit me.  This wasn’t just a collection of neat-looking ruins.  It used to be a city, with a Governor.  Like, shit actually happened there.  It was a fun thought to think as we left.

Roberto then said it was my turn to drive.  Reader, this is the sixth time I have been to Mexico.  I have never driven in Mexico before.  Roberto assured me that I could go as fast as I wanted, that my American passport and a small bribe would get me out of any trouble.  I broke 161 km/h (100 mph) as soon as I deemed it safe to do.  Our next stop was the old city of Campeche, but sunset was at 5:45 PM.  I had thought it to be about 3:15 PM when we left.  The drive was estimated at 2.5 hours.  It would be tight timing.  I had forgotten to account for the time zone.

Fortunately, it was an error in our favor, for now at least.  My phone had actually been reporting a time an hour ahead ever since we left the state of Quintana Roo this morning.  That meant it was actually 2:15 PM, and I managed to shave half an hour off, listening to 1989 and enjoying an Aging Room en route, arriving in Campeche at 4:15 PM, which was plenty of time to explore the city.

However, Roberto had no idea where the Plaque or the inscription photo (a yellow building) was.  There were lots of similar looking yellow buildings.  In fact, the town was full of them.  This would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.  We found the Plaque quite by accident.  We literally parked next to it.  We took some ceremonial pictures, and I lit up a Churchill.  Roberto then saw a cop car.

He asked them about the photo.  They recognized the building but thought it had been repainted.  The good news was they knew exactly where it was.  We first went to get my souvenirs and then quickly found the building, which actually did have its original paint color.  Holy fuck!  I think I just heard and saw some bats behind me.

Okay, after that was done, we headed to the fort, stopping for gas on the way.  My brother called me, asking me to explain the new Star Wars movie to him, which I did.  We got to the fort and took some more ceremonial pictures there.  We then headed back to the main plaza to get dinner at a traditional-fare restaurant.

We ordered way too much food.  I got their chimichanga specialty for the appetizer, and we shared all the main courses, including shark (yes, shark) tacos, a special chicken cutlet, empanadas, and another chicken dish.  We each had two Diet Cokes to drink, and I also had a piña colada, just ’cause.  I agreed to do another round of driving, since we had 4-5 hours to get to our hotel.  I would drive for one big cigar.  We picked up snacks and a bottle of water at the Oxxo before we continued.

I opted for an Aroma de Cuba (a Dominican cigar), since Campeche so reminded me of Havana.  Actually, so many tropical cities share that look, from Hamilton to Panama City to St. John’s to Campeche, with the colorful painted houses and the charming rustic mystique.  I did my share of driving, and we got stopped at a military checkpoint, which led to an extensive search of our car.  We did the switch there.  We switched up the music a bit, and I continued a conversation with my friend that I had begun at dinner, of course about the Oscar nominees, talking about Mad Max and the technical awards, and different scenarios how everything could play out.  Like, well, if this movie wins this award, it’ll also win that award and that movie will win this award.

I napped a little while we drove, though it kept getting broken up by checkpoints and slowing down for small towns.  Eventually, we arrived in the small town of Felipe Carrillo Puerto, which I described in the opening.  We got to our hotel, and the guy at the front desk had no record of my reservation.  He had no computer system.  He just took down my name (no credit card information) and handed us a key.  We got settled in, and then I grabbed my stuff and headed outside.  I found a nice bench, where I lit up my 2011 Christmas Pipe and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish and get some sleep.  With the time zone difference, I might actually manage the full three hours.

Yucatan 2016: The Experience - Day 0 - New Friends

“Yucatan 2016: The Experience”

1/15/16, “New Friends”

John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York (JFK)

The theme of finding the familiar within the unfamiliar and experiencing the unfamiliar within the familiar returns once more.  For the fourth time in three years I find myself sitting at Kennedy Airport waiting to fly to Mexico.  However, it’s all different this time.  I am not in my familiar Terminal 4 awaiting my familiar late night Aeromexico flight to Mexico City.  I am not meeting my old friend Enrique.  No, instead, I am in Terminal 8, awaiting an unfamiliar American Airlines flight direct to Cancun.  Instead, I am meeting my new friend Roberto.  We will travel together to visit six WHS in the Yucatan.

It will be very different from my previous three trips to Mexico.  He will be my guide, but he is not a paid guide.  He is a friend.  We met in the most unusual way, a manner only possible in today’s modern world.  We met through Instagram.  I mentioned him during my last trip to Mexico.  He saw my WHS posts on Instagram, and we started talking about them.  One thing led to another, and we planned this trip together.  I did not actually expect it to happen, but now it is.  In about five hours I will be landing in Cancun, and we will begin our journey together.  It will be a fast-paced, fun, and exciting journey together, a trip rather dissimilar from any previous trip I have ever taken, but also familiar in so many ways.  We are soon boarding, so I will now close so that I can begin that journey.’’

Aboard American Airlines 1434, En route JFK-CUN

Perhaps skipping lunch today was not the best idea.  It seems I always get in trouble at work whenever I skip lunch.  It has been a wildly interesting Day 0, far more interesting than a Day 0 has any right to be.  Of course, all of it is so familiar once more.  I had no idea how I wanted to start this morning.  I needed to pack surely, yes.  I needed to shave and shower, too.  I also wanted to go to Good Morning America in an attempt to get Michael Bay’s autograph.  I should have started that process at 7:30 AM or maybe even earlier.  It was 8:30 AM when I got out of bed (out of bed, not awake).  No chance of the Michael Bay autograph, barely enough time to shower and shave, not time to pack.

Why did all this happen this way?  I was awake at 7:30 AM.  I was engaged in an intense discussion with my best friend about feminism and the value of opposite-sex platonic friendships.  That lasted an hour.  Finally, the conversation died down, and I got ready.  I over estimated how long it would take to shower, shave, and get dressed.  That fucked everything up.

I would need to come back at lunch time to pack and grab my suitcase.  I would also need to buy some cigars for the trip, and a lighter.  That would not leave time for lunch, especially with the intense discussion I started having with another friend about various Oscar considerations.  I also discovered I had still had plenty of leftover cigars in my suitcase from my last trip.  I was back from lunch fifteen minutes late.  Further, since I didn’t have time for lunch, I was unable to properly mask the scent of my cigar.  Strike 2.

There was a proposal that was supposed to go out by the end of the day.  I had finished it before lunch and left it on my boss’s desk.  It did not seem like our boss would come back before the end of the day.  I sent an email to the client saying the partners were reviewing it and it would be ready Tuesday morning at the latest.  He was fine with that.  Our boss came back, just as I was about to leave.  I said it’d probably have to wait until Tuesday unless he wanted to send out himself.  He was okay with that.  Our sales rep was not.  He went ballistic.  Strike 3.

I wound up having to stay until 3:30 PM, the regular closing time, when I had been planning on leaving at 3 PM and taking an hour of personal time (fifteen minutes late, fifteen minutes extra for lunch, leave thirty minutes early).  Instead, I didn’t get docked any personal time, but I seriously risked missing my flight.  I figured I’d be good.  I was downstairs at 3:30 PM, immediately got a taxi, and then came the traffic.

It was 5:40 PM by the time we got to the airport.  I cleared up my reservation with Hertz while I was in the taxi, and I was all set.  Reader, all I had eaten by this point was a bagel with cream cheese and two cups of coffee.  That’s it.  It was 6:10 PM by the time I got past security.  Boarding would begin at 6:35 PM.  The gate was not close.  I could either write my entry or get food, but not both.  I chose to write the entry, assuming that there would be food on the plane.

Big mistake.  I got to write my entry for about ten minutes.  It was past 7:30 PM by the time the food cart came to us.  And announced they were out of food.  WTF?!?!?!?!  NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!  He clarified.  All they had was Goldfish and cookies.  That was food.  I got two packs of Goldfish and a pack of cookies.  That would hold me over until I landed.  Hopefully.

Meanwhile, my seatmates, with whom I was becoming fast friends, had similar complaints about the lack of alcohol and the rudeness of the service in general.  I began to write my entry after I ate, but we continued the conversation, moving on to other topics, too.  On that note, I will now close so that I can hopefully enjoy the rest of my flight.  I will soon be landing in Cancun where Roberto will be awaiting me.

Cancún, Quintana Roo, Mexico

Quebec, Istanbul, Lake Placid, The Bransfield Strait, Macau, and, now, Cancun.  Those are but a few places where I have smoked my 2010 Christmas Pipe.  Cancun, you cannot hear that word and but think of the beach.  This is not a beach trip.  Cancun just happened to have the big international airport with direct flights from New York.  It is merely our jumping off point to the six World Heritage Sites in the Yucatan.

We will start tomorrow with Chichen Itza, the most famous one of all.  However, tonight’s entry, and the now necessary corresponding entry in my personal journal will not be about Mayan ruins.  It will be about new friends.  I hinted at this above, but I made a new friend, the woman sitting next to me on the flight.  We did more than just bitch about the bad service.  We actually had real conversations.  Not one, multiple.  Who was that person sitting in Seat 20F, and what did he do with Steven?

Was it because she reminded me so much of my best friend that I felt comfortable talking to my seatmate, or was it more an extension of the conversation from this morning, that I had realized something about myself and was able to extend it to this new friendship?  Just as I knew four years ago, I knew tonight, I could not let her leave my life forever.  It didn’t matter that her boyfriend was sitting in the row in front of us.  This was not about that.  This was about making a new friend.  The only new food I had gotten was a tray of nuts, which led to more jokes about the sexuality of the flight attendant who brought us the nuts and asked me, with a distinct San Francisco accent, “Do you like nuts?”  We found so much to talk about and joke about for most of the rest of the flight.  It was that fateful night in June 2012 all over again.

When we finally landed, and I got cell service, I asked if she was on Facebook.  She went to type in her information into my phone, but she had forgotten that she had set her profile to private.  I suggested she look up my information, but she didn’t have cell service.  What about Instagram?  Yes, that would work.  As we waited in the line for Immigration, she was about a row ahead of me, so we exchanged a smile or a joke each time we passed each other as the rows moved.  She referred to me with her friends (they were travelling as a group of 11) as her friend from the plane.  Again, who was sitting in Seat 20F, and what did he do with Steven?  Just as the cute girl who rested her head against my hand four years ago became my best friend, the cute girl in Seat 20E who rested her elbow against mine on the armrest could now become a new friend.

It was not long before I finished clearing the formalities and met my other new friend: Roberto. We found each other outside the airport and greeted each other like old friends, which, by this point, we were.  We had been Facebook friends for over four months, which is a long time in this day and age.  This was the first time we were meeting.  It was both familiar and uneasy.  To go from a Facebook friendship to hanging out in person with just each other for three days.  But we had been talking about this trip for literally four months.  We were ready.  We took some ceremonial pictures together, but I had trouble posting them to social media.  It was after midnight before I got everything up.

We also had a bit of wait with the car, but we were on the road before long.  We stopped at a gas station for food and snacks.  I was starving, and this was what I got.  Gas station food.  I was so hungry that I didn’t care.  We headed to the hotel, but the first room they gave us with still dirty.  They gave us a new room, this one clean.  Smoking was banned in the room, and there were no operable windows.  The weather is beautiful out, so it was a no brainer.  After we settled in, I headed downstairs and went outside, where I found a seat, lit up my 2010 Christmas Pipe, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish, write my personal entry, and get some sleep.