LIVEdigitally

Mexico Vacaciones - Tuesday - Tulum

Tuesday, January 30th, 2007.
I silently cursed at the woman on the other end of the phone call. The recorded voice that informed me it was time to get up was a soothing as being told in a soft, genteel manner, “sir, we’re going to need to go ahead and check that prostate now.” We shuffled off to breakfast prior to our half-day trip to the Mayan ruins of Tulum. We waited for our “shuttle” (bus) to our “small” (large) tour with “6-8 other people” (25-30). Ah, salespeople.

Tulum is about 50K (I wrote a note to myself to check that when typing it in, but I’m on the plane right now and will likely forget to ever do it, but you can go ahead and Google it, I’m sure they know) from our hotel. The drive somehow took 90 minutes, which was sufficient for me to have a nice little nap en route (yes, I’ve decided to depart from using the meals we eat as my “recurring theme” and instead focus on the naps. It’s only because they are just so darned satisfying right now, yet more evidence that siesta is more an effect of the geography than just the people).

Our tour guide did quite a good job imparting his wisdom about Tulum and the Mayan culture. He also didn’t hesitate to mention his dislike of Mel Gibson’s recent film, winning him (the guide, not Gibson) many points in our book. The ruins themselves were quite interesting to me, as I hadn’t encountered anything comparable in my travels. In fact, of the cultures whose pasts I’ve had a glimpse into, from Japanese to French, Italian to Native American, this was the first of which there existed virtually no modern representation. This is even more fascinating when you consider the vast knowledge and bookkeeping common to the Mayan culture. Actually, let’s give a second shout-out to Mr. Gibson for portraying them as an overly violent people. At least he didn’t blame them for killing Christ.

After our return from the ruins (the worst part of the excursion, by the way, was that somehow all four of us successfully managed to not bring even a single deck of cards for the bus rides), we went back to our original business, lazing about in serious vacaciones mode. We had a lazy lunch, followed by a lazy lie by the pool side. We did interrupt some of this lazing with a bit of ping pong (the 25-year-old rusted foosball table was unfortunately missing the ball), and Ariella and I got henna tattoos. But then, back to lazing about.

For dinner, we had 9pm reservations at El Puerto - by day, the snack house, by night, the steak house - what a wonderful house! I should take a moment to explain the hotel’s reservations system. For every three nights you stay, you get one reservation, so we had a total of three on our trip. To make a reservation, you had to go, in person, to a counter in the lobby, where you are virtually guaranteed your selection. They give you a printed receipt which you are asked to keep, and turn in as you arrive to eat. What about the other four nights, you might ask? You can either (a) go to the buffet - most assuredly not a bad option, (b) go to a restaurant anyway and see if they have the room - which appears to be always the case, although a little conversation is needed to get in, or (c) go to the restaurant, hand over $5US, and be led straight to your table. I have no clue how such a system evolved, but that’s the way it is. Dinner at the steak house was my favorite so far, they even sported a great knockoff of the Awesome Blossom. That, plus the caipiroskas (caipirinha - cachasa + vodka) I drank, made for a great meal.

After dinner’s scheduled entertainment was called “Mexican Folklore” and our same batch of ~~singers~~ lip-synchers and dancers were back performing for the crowd. The night’s selection was a variety of traditional dances, with the standout performance being a slightly older gentleman showing amazing tricks with a lariat. During the show, some of the entertainers walked through the audience carrying white binders. It seems that the natural follow-up activity to “Mexican Folklore” is karaoke night.

Normally, I’m ready to be the first in line for karaoke, but I had a little problem. The song selection was quite terrible, with either way-too modern selections (my repertoire of Nelly, Shakira, and Britney Spears is a little lacking) or older choices that I just didn’t know or enjoy singing. I don’t mind embarrassing myself with a song I have a little fun with, but it’s not quite as much fun in my eyes when you’re up in front of 500 people and you don’t remember the second verse of Getting Jiggy Wit It (na na na na na na na na). So, I never made it up on the stage, and missed out on the standard introduction by the hostess, “and now, here’s Jeremy, joining us all the way from California.”