URGGHH my stomach was in ribbons when I arrived to Valladolid early on Tuesday morning, following a horrible dose of food poisoning.
A sleepless night, a ferry journey at 5.00am, and an uncomfortable bus journey wasn't the ideal scenario having been throwing up just a few hours earlier, but.. the show must go on!
I was only booked in for one night at the La Candelaria Hostel but I had two days worth of sight-seeing planned. There's nothing worth seeing in Valladolid other than a few cenotes, however it's location is equidistant from the sights I planned on visiting.
It was around 9.30am and I'd barely checked in before I was off out again. With hardly any sleep and my stomach in a world of bother I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to go see my favourite things in the world - ruins! Not just any old ruins, but the ruins of Chichén Itzá.. one of the "Seven NewWonders of the World".
My hatred for things like this combined with feeling unwell had potential to be a recipe for disaster. Don't ask, "WHY?!" I was asking myself the exact same thing.
With being in the area I thought I should take a look, and who knows, maybe I'll come away being pleasantly surprised. Either way, let's just get this done.
Turns out I was surprised, surprised at how stupid I could have been to think that maybe I'd get something out of it. Let's just put it down to being a bit under the weather aye?
Thank God I'd gotten there relatively early.. it was baking hot but more so because it's another damn TOURIST TRAP! The place was filling up fast by the time I'd completed a lap of the old stones. People apparently spend a whole day here.. HOW???? I smashed it in just over an hour, and that was because I was mostly fighting off vendors from every flipping angle.
I even saw a "Hen Doo" there - that poor girl! The maid of honour would definitely be getting the sack in the morning! What was she thinking?! MADNESS!
The only half decent thing on show was the main pyramid, El Castillo (also known as The Temple of Kukulcan).. it did look impressive but there's not a whole lot you can do other than stare at it. Would be far more interesting if I could have popped my head in and take a look inside.
My mind will never change.. just a pile of old stones!
Anyway, I got the job done, caught the bus back to Valladolid and I was back at the hostel by midday. Who'd have thought I could squeeze all that into a 12-hour period?! Needless to say, I was absolutely whacked and jumped straight into bed.
A few hours shut-eye seemed to do the trick, but I was starving. I woke up to three new dorm mates.. two English lads called Tom and Dan, and Inge, a Dutch girl. After we got to know each other a little we hit the Italian across the square for some hearty tucker before hitting the sack as we all had an early start in the morning.
What a frikkin long day that was!!
I had a bus to catch to Mérida at 6.00pm on Wednesday so I needed to be on point with my timings for the place I was visiting. I was heading back to the northern coast of Yucatán to a small village called Las Coloradas, where there are supposedly pink lagoons!
Las Coloradas is well over 2-hours drive away and as there is no direct buses from Valladolid it was always going to be a bit of a mission getting there and back. I could have planned it to the nth degree but I decided to wing it instead. What could go wrong? The bus being delayed and missing my connection, that's what. Time to put operation "wing-it" in action!
Somehow I managed to muster up a taxi ride with two French girls, as well as a Mexican woman who'd just finished her weekly shop. Random, but the fair split four ways was a winner, otherwise it was a few hours wait for the next bus. But our drop off was in Río Lagartos, a small fishing town on the Yucatán coast, still a distance from Las Coloradas.
Fortunately the French girls were also heading for the pink lagoons so we decided to join forces. I'd planned on catching a bus there but having spoke to a local fisherman we arranged a cash deal for him to take us in his boat. Not how I saw the day unfolding but I was "winging-it" after all.
Cruising along in beautiful turquoise waters with my feet up in a speedboat turned out to be a great idea. Having seen flamingos and other bird life along the way we arrived at Las Coloradas, who's name can be translated into "the coloured ones". It remains practically untouched due to its unpopularity and lack of tourism infrastructure.
The waters aren’t only pink.. they are also yellow, orange, green and turquoise - a result of algae and high salt levels. Apparently, the tiny microorganisms which live in the lagoosn, like brine shrimp and red plankton (algae), dye the water with their chemicals.
The colour is also dependant on the height of the sun and the angle at which it reflects light. The lagoon we visited appeared more orange, but from certain angles, pink. Strange, but cool!
Swimming in the lakes is no longer permitted but the pink lagoon police were nowhere to be seen, so I went rogue and I dipped in the old trotters. Naughty!
Covering ourselves in some kind of magic mud was an option on our return to Río Lagartos. Apparently it works wonders for the skin.. I swerved that nonsense though, I had a bus to catch in a few hours.
My return to Vallalodid was much simpler, no need to "wing" anything this time around. I collected my bags from the hostel and caught the 6.00pm bus, west to Mérida.. a relatively short 3-hour journey.
Mérida.. WOW this place was hot! 38 degrees during the day and not much cooler in the evening. No sooner had you got out of a refreshing cold shower you were sweating again.
There's not all that much to see in the small city of Mérida, the huge main square is pretty nice where a large cathedral is the dominant focus. It's generally a nice place to walk around if you can withstand the heat, but nothing too special.
A large group of us from Hostal Catedral found a local bar in the afternoon where they were showing Mexico's live game against Germany in the Confederations Cup Semi-Final. The Mexican's got a hammering!
A festival was taking place in a nearby square in the evening, not a festival as we know it in the UK, a local family affair with a live Mexican band. I had literally no idea what was going on.. it was all in Spanish. A few beers in a German bar later on made it more tolerable.
Friday, I spent the day aimlessly wandering and milling around the bustling local markets, killing time before a marathon 16-hour overnight bus journey to San Cristóbal de las Casas, in the Chiapas region.
Caio Caio xx