Katy's coming home, she's coming home.

About time I wrote something.

Less than 1 month until I come home, which is very exciting. The fact that I still and won't for a while know whether I'm returning to Mexico or not is rather distracting though.

Things I'm looking forward to in England:
- Seeing everyone
- Eating
- Countryside walks
- Pubs
- Wearing jumpers
- The British sense of humour.

Things I'm going to miss:
- Mexican friends (Miguel...)
- Eating
- Not being cold
- Speaking spanish

Last weekend a group of us went to Michoacan, the home of the Mexican Day of the Dead festival. It was truly wonderful, the food, the beautifully decorated cemetaries, the markets.

I have about 7 rolls of film to develop - hence the lack of photos here. Sorry about that. Turns out I can only every seem to afford to buy the film, not develop it......

Update September - The Harris' Go To Mexico

I am dispicable for leaving this so long. I was waiting until I got my photos developed but have now realised that's simply never going to happen.

Anyway in the time its taken me to get around to this my genuis father has made a rather wonderful documentary about the visit!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBc8_QakdF8 is the youtube link but as its limited I cannot insert it here.

Anyway, I guess maybe I should say a few words. Simply wonderful. Thats about it really. Playa del Carmen is stunning and we stayed in a great little hotel, ate well, saw interesting sites. We were lucky enough to catch a fair bit of Mariachi back here in GDL, so Mum, Dad and Laura got a good taste of Jalisco.

It was so beautiful to have them here. I keep waking up thinking they're still here and being confused. Luckily I've now bought my flight home for early December and so can rest easier that we will be all united again soon!

I'm still not sure whether I'm coming back or not after Christmas, it's all rather complicated and proper life decisions I've never been great at. I'm hoping some external event will make the decision for me. Meanwhile I'm planting watermelon and brocolli in the patio and continuing enjoying the mexican cuisine and weather.

Can't wait for some home comforts though.

That's my update folks. Love to all.

K xxxx

Guacamole, Rum and Chocolate (Guatemala, Nicaragua and Costa Rica)

At the end of March I left our Mexican nest to travel through Central America for 2 months. I had an amazing time and thoroughly enjoyed myself and thought I’d better update you all on some of my ridiculous activities and experiences. Unfortunately my underwater camera decided not to be waterproof one day, and filled up with a good load of salt water, therefore until I go to the camera shop and they miraculously fix it, all my photos are as good as lost.

Guatemala is the most beautiful country I’ve seen, the land is volcanic rock and incredible shapes and views. I liked to think that the fires I kept seeing were vents from the volcanoes (almost definitely were crops burning, but I can dream).

My most spectacular experience was visiting Semuc Champey, the natural pools and caves in Lanquin. Semuc Champey means ‘how does it hide?’ as this is the point where the river resurfaces from underground into a series of descending natural pools, all clear and blue, with little slides and waterfalls and overhanging caves to play in. After slip-sliding and scrabbling around we made our way to the Kam’Ba cave (‘Candle’ cave), which involves, as the name suggests, clambering, swimming and injuring ourselves in in the darkness, carrying candles. This was lots of fun, fairly bizarre, and then terrifying, but no one got seriously injured, which was impressive seeing as at the end we had to drop ourselves through a hole comprised of many rocks jutting out at perfect head level. Moreover, one girl there couldn’t swim!

I also visited some huge ruins in Guatemala. We left at 4:30am so as to see the sunrise from the ruins. Turns out the sun rises at around 5:30, and of course the park didn’t open till 6am, so no sunrise for us. We did however see all sorts of crazy animals, including a non-poisonous tarantula which was placed on several people’s tongues for photos, and amazing views from all the tops of the pyramids.

Nicaragua was probably my favourite country I visited, aided by it also being the cheapest. The people are really friendly (though do also lie a lot to try to get money from you, which is sad), the country is beautiful and I met some amazing people.

In León I went volcano boarding, which involves hiking up a black, gravelly volcano on a boiling hot day with a wooden board strapped to your back, then sitting on said board and tobogganing back down. We saw, and stood in, sulphur air vents, and from the highest point you could see the flow of the lava from the last eruption 10 years ago or so (the volcano is actually meant to have erupted recently and didn’t, so is expected to any time now). We all ended up absolutely covered in black ash and soot and had a hilarious time.

My favourite place in Nicaragua was the island Ometepe, in Lake Nicaragua, which is two volcanoes and in the lake there are the only fresh water sharks, which is cool (they are massive and dangerous but have been fished to near extinction so you never see them). There are howler monkeys everywhere, everyone is friendly and it’s beautifully quiet all the time. One day my Alaskan friend and I went on an accidental 7 hour bike ride around the smaller volcano (no paved roads and my bike breaking considerably added to the time) to a natural spring pool. Yes, I did fall over, but not off the bike so that’s better. We narrowly avoided getting electrocuted by climbing through someone’s property whilst their guard dogs chased us. However, I did then see for the first time chicken’s roosting in a tree, which was pretty cool.

My most vivid memory of Nicaragua though is a small beach ‘town’ called El Ostional, south of the big beach-party area San Juan del Sur. ‘A small beach town which meets all your tourist needs’ is what we had read, what we discovered was a shut town, with one place to stay, one place to eat, one shop with one bottle of rum and one pair of flip-flops vaguely my size (I desperately needed flip-flops, these ugly, massive blue things became my pride and joy). However, what they did have, which none of us expected, were turtles. We then had the painful but amazing experience of witnessing sea turtles hulking around, whilst horrible men with horrible torches stole all their eggs to sell.

In Costa Rica I stayed on a cocoa farm for just over a month, making chocolate, whacking things with a machete and being generally dirty and sweaty. It was an amazing time and I really enjoyed it, the vast majority of employees were girls, and we all just had such a great time together; I have never chatted so much in my life. We hiked and waded over a river to the cocoa tree orchard, where we climbed trees and machete-d down the cocoa pods, and got bitten by ants (and me by some kind of flesh eating disease bug thing). Then we roasted, shelled and ground up the cocoa (R. Kelly featuring greatly in the latter). Then we made chocolate of many flavours, only seriously ruining it once.

We lived along the one road from a little town (one shop, one bar which was the centre of Mastatal life),  and enjoyed our Saturday night trip to the bar, which involved a 20 minute walk, the first party being through a cow and horse field, then past the one street light whilst being noisy to scare away snakes. However, one weekend we were treated to a dance; all the locals from the neighbouring villages dress up, bring all their family and dance the night away. There was a mind-blowing combination in the centre of the dancefloor of a bubble machine, a smoke machine, and lasers, and we all had a brilliant evening salsa-ing away.

I took several interesting modes of transport, and regularly had the thought ‘I haven’t laughed this much in ages’. I rode in the back of cattle trucks, an electrical works van and old American school buses which are used for public transport (called Chicken Buses). I really enjoyed my time, though I do have to say, I am happy to be home. I only got very angry at Central America when people weren’t queuing properly.

E xxxxxxxxxxx

Lo De Marcos

One is filled with confidence after a four-hour coach journey when the driver shouts out of his window to a passer-by if he has arrived yet at his destination. Ah Mexico...

So a few weeks ago I went to Lo De Marcos, a beach on the Nayarit coast, not too far from Sayulita but miles away in terms of atmosphere. Lo De Marcos was perfectly relaxing, few people, good seafood, waves in which to play and which played with us, what more could you ask for? It was just what the doctor ordered (until he actually ordered me a sling and strong pain killers - real doctors never order beach trips, how dull).

The new main picture on this blog is perhaps my favourite photo ever taken, I hope you don't all hate it. Below I'll add some more photos of the pacifico.

(get it, it's pacifico!)

Actualización

It’s about time I update you guys. A lot has happened and rather fast hence the lack of communication. Forgive me. Also blogging just always seems a far more involved task than it actually is.

La Salida.

Senorita Williams was rather forced by circumstance to move on. To abandon our little British oasis on Juan de Dios Robledo and discover the world. Since she’s been gone (almost a month!?!?) contact with her has always left me smiling. She’s been doing the most wonderful things it would seem. I hope she’ll soon blog and enlighten us all as to her escapades.

Before she left we made a Guadalajara bucket list, there were many things we had let to experience in Jalisco and she only had a month to fit it all in! Here’s the list and the photographic proof that we achieved most:

Butterflies in Morelia

I don’t actually have any photos of the butterflies as my camera was rudely stolen by some Mexican Bandits. I shouldn’t really refer to it all blazé like, it was actually the most horrible thing. Anyway, here is a pic of the cathedral at Morelia. 

Chapala Lake

Ah, isn't she lovely.

Tequila

We finally did the tourist thing and got the Tequila Express. At 11am we borded the train to be greeted with Margaritas. Lovely they were too. Gosh they gave us a lot of tequila that day.

 These beauties are called banderas (flags), 3 shots of the colours of the mexican flag, The middle was tequila, the green was lemon and the red... no-one seemed sure.

Fancy lunch which Ellie and I just felt sorry for the poor waiters working outside in the terrible heat. Though that didn't stop us requesting they bring more margaritas tout suite!

That's where they make the magic happen. It smelt terrible. They let us try some of the tequila in the process, which was almost 90% alcohol. Rather hurt the throat that did. 

Eat Pozole


Sadly I can find no photographic evidence of our pozole exploits. It was strange a a bit tasty but I think neither Ells or I are likely to choose it again off a menu. 

Buy a Mexican Blanket!


You'll have to just believe us on this one too.... 

Mixing cement in a sun trap

“I’m volunteering in a women’s rights organisation”: there’s a phrase that gives nothing away. So I figured for those of you vaguely interested, or slightly confused, about what I’m doing out here, this blog post’s for you! (Afraid no photos, I’m getting a CD of pictures the day before I leave Mexico, so not sure if I’ll have time to upload them before I leave, we’ll see).

I’m actually volunteering on one project, which focuses on discussing women’s rights, the environment and works towards increasing resources. The project is taking place in Huizachera, a very poor colonia on the outskirts of Guadalajara. Life is very difficult here, and everyone has a pocketful of heartbreaking stories.

The idea was it would be a big group of women from Huiza, with a few of us from IMDEC, building things, raising autonomy and having a nice time. In reality, there’s 4 of us from IMDEC, and 4 women from Huizachera, with the odd husband and child tagging along. From IMDEC there’s Carmen (she likes to bring articles along about teamwork and the suffrage), Sandy (from France, is French), Sandy’s husband Javier (laaaaaid back) and Moi. The Huizachera ladies are: Mary (building at her house, my Mexican mother, loves to be right in the middle of things), Ana (hilarious, around 50 and has a lunatic 4 year old), Lupita (smiley, always brings the two kids along) and Queta (amazing feminist, her husband threatened to leave her because she’s a member of too many women’s groups and committees, she told him to go ahead. He left, her life stayed the same, he came back, still didn’t change a thing).

What we are doing, other than chatting (there’s a lot of chatting, we have a nice time), is building a waterless toilet, kind of like an outhouse, as it’s ecological, plus there’s no running water in the Colonia. So it’s a little bathroom with a loo, built over a part housing a big bucket with sawdust and other stuff in. It sounds so much simpler than it is, however it also should not have taken us 5 months, but it has, and to be honest I don’t really mind, it’s kept me occupied, and everyone is really lovely (have I mentioned we have a nice time?).

We can only go to Huizachera a couple of days a week, and between 10am and 12 noon because the women run the households (Ana and Queta are single mothers/grandmothers), so after 12 they have to go home and cook and look after the little ‘uns. Also, IMDEC decided to have end of year meetings the whole of December, and beginning of year meetings most of January, so only a couple of days work in those months. I have really enjoyed my work there though, mixing cement, laying bricks (I am not skilled at this), putting up wooden structures, plastering with mud (I am very skilled at this). Plus it was really great how into it everyone was, building, sawing and drilling, it was really good fun doing the things that are generally seen as male tasks.

A brief rundown of what we did: built a compost heap full of holes for air circulation for the loo waste and everything else to go in, built the base of bricks that the bucket goes in, treated all the wood, built the wooden loo cubicle structure, cut bamboo, filled the loo walls with bamboo to support the plastering, plastered the walls with a mixture of earth, water and hay (actually it was alfalfa, we couldn’t find hay, but that’s not important), put on the roof  which is a fibreglass ridged sheet thing, got doors, put up the doors, put up other bits around the doors, made steps up to the loo and DONE! (Actually, we haven’t finished the steps yet, but hush now).

We’ve also talked about rights a lot, and the importance for caring for the environment and things like that. I’ve heard a lot of sad stories, and things that have upset me, but also these women are great, and they really are changing their lives. Mary’s husband, Nacho, always seemed lovely, but I heard conflicting things about him as to confuse me quite a lot. When Javier was around (he was in Haiti for the last month or so of the building) Nacho was always happy to help though clearly exhausted from work, yet as soon as Javier wasn’t around Nacho ardently refused to help. One day Mary wasn’t there and Nacho refused to let us in until he heard Carmen’s voice, who he sees as the 2^nd in command of the project. He is apparently quite macho, and didn’t agree with the project being run solely by women once Javier wasn’t there, especially as we were building things and doing things that men traditionally do.

Another girl who sometimes came along but couldn’t really help was Estrella, 15 years old and heavily pregnant gave birth 2^nd March to a little girl), she has a sad, option-less life, and has witnessed so much violence and pain – and she’s 15! Another day Queta told us how she has 7 children but has given birth 9 times, one child died from eating some of her husbands work stuff (he made bricks). Ana’s husband decided to go to America for a better life, she’s never heard from him again. Then you get the random off hand comments about how their husbands beat them, or don’t give their permission for them to go and do what they want. All of this just makes me glad that, for example, Queta is an ardent feminist and this group is raising awareness about women’s rights and what women have done in the past to get us where we are. Previously I’ve only really discussed and experienced feminism in the University situation or with people who have been to university, so to experience feminism in a completely different setting was really great. The 8^th of March is International Women’s Day, which equally celebrates how much we’ve achieved, but also focuses on how much more we have to change, and I think that really sums up the situation in Huizachera specifically and obviously the world in general.

I have greatly enjoyed working in Huiza with the ladies, and I’ll miss them and their ridiculous banter. Sorry I got a bit feminism-y at the end, but hey, you know what?: WOO, WOMEN!!!

E x

Ey.

Sometimes my own stupidity staggers me. Yesterday I managed to foresee a syprupy eruption in my workbag from my impromptu street-hotcakes, which may well cover all my English books in sugar hell, instead of taking action of avoid such an incident I let it happen. Syrup everywhere. I’m 22 for Christ’s sake. Worse was logging in to Guardian Jobs this morning to submit my application for a paid intern in NYC to see I had missed the deadline by a few hours. Now, it’s highly unlikely I would have been accepted, but at least there would have been a minor chance, now there is no chance. OH.

Anyway, I did another “project”. I’m not sure if anyone really is interested in these, or what I think I achieve by doing them but here goes: Mariachi.

Vicente Fernandez Estos Celos.

La Bikina

The music to accompany the below.

José Alberto, a street serenade.

Outside the San Juan de Dios market a strange sight is to be seen. Groups of men dressed in fancy mariachi get-up hang around for hours on end. They pass the time leaning on cars, talking amongst themselves, looking ever so provocative on the corner. To the untrained eye these immaculately coiffured cowboys could seem untoward, but to those in the know, these men have one simple desire – to sing for their supper. This is the Plaza de Los Mariachis, there only exist two such places in the entire world and it’s not terribly surprising to find one in the birthplace of Mariachi, Jalisco.

Mariachi is a fascinating tradition and the Plaza of the Mariachis even more so. The obvious thing to do was to go and have a chat with the serenaders and see if we couldn’t get a rendition or two. One afternoon after a delicious Mexican lunch of stuffed peppers and frijoles Ellie and I headed to the market to say ‘Hola’. The first genuine Mariachi we met, David Flores, donned in green told us he had been a Mariachi for 10 years. We didn’t get much more out of David as he suddenly looked agitated, explained that his group had got a job and ran down the street to join a troop of similarly garb-ed bards heading in the same direction. It must be exciting indeed to hire a Mariachi band and suddenly find 9 or 10 of them running towards you at great speed.
This is of course the reason the Mariachis are there, to be contracted for an event, a wedding or funeral (often the dying make a list of songs they want performed), a Quincenera (a big party Mexicans have when young girls turn 15) or the increasingly less popular in the age of facebook and bbm, serenade. The impromptu band-hiring manages to keep a fair amount of Tapatios in employment. Unperturbed by our new friend’s dramatic exit we continued on the hunt for performers. Benjamin and Jose were on hand to help explain to Ellie and me exactly what the modern Mariachi does and how he ended up doing so. Unsurprisingly, we found Mariachi to be on the whole a family tradition. Until recently you were only allowed to join the bands of the Plaza if your father too had been a Mariachi. What did surprise us was the lack of options these men had. Three of the Four Mariachis we spoke to had not chosen the career and in fact were stuck in it. As youngsters they had gone to Mariachi school, studied hard to improve their technique and now middle aged and older they knew how to do nothing else. Being a Mariachi was their only option to feed their families. Despite this several still hoped their children would follow in their path, only making sure they finished their regular schooling first.

The Plaza de Los Mariachis is the cubicle-hell of between 40 and 50 Mariachi groups, each with at least 7 members, usually 10. The official Union of Mariachi musicians stipulates the number of musicians that can be counted as a Mariachi band; less than seven? Sling it cowboys. They patrol the Plaza day and night (Tuesdsay and Wednesday being days off), taking turns on shifts waiting for someone to require a musical accompaniment to whatever event. Traditionally they were often hired for serenades, but those were the times when contact between courting couples was kept minimal and so the employment of a group of elegantly adorned Mariachi players was one of only a few options to show ones affection. I can’t decide if this is a lovely lost tradition or not…. Miguel, valentines next week – a serenade would not go amiss….

So how much would the hire of a serenade set my dear boyfriend back? Considering the size of the acoustic assembly, the meagre fee of 2500 pesos an hour seems a good deal to me. That’s about £120 out of which the band pay their own transportation. Gigs are not necessarily few and far between though. Jorge explained that although some days they can be waiting for hours on end, others they can be running around town from one job to the next all day long.

Naturally competition between groups is rife. Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays especially so, these are the days they don their most lavish garments to impress prospective audiences. The Mariachi attire is descended from the days of the Charro, basically a Mexican cowboy who attended Mexicanised Rodeos and wore a big hat. Over time the splendid sombrero has been lost, apparently the headwear is an expensive investment which often gets mistreated at parties. Fair play. The pistol too has been left by the wayside “you can’t carry guns in the street”, a fine point. The most common suit is all white, but all colours of the rainbow can be seen adorning the Plaza.

Although Mariachis are loyal to their band, after 9pm members are free to join with other bands to form what are known as “Bolitas”, groups of Maraichis not yet tired enough to call it a day who play together, either for fun or professionally. I suppose they must learn from the other groups too, being a Mariachi is a constant fight to better ones technique, learn new numbers and the like. In fact, the Plaza players are pretty low down on the Mariachi-rung. Jorge hopes one day to join a more professional and simply better crew who don’t spend their time waiting around the marketplace.

The rise of the Mariachi wasn’t an entire natural process. The Jaliscan tradition was rocketed to fame by the Mexican nationalism project. Mexico has never been a united country and the constant years of wars and disruption that are now nostalgically known as the “Revolution” left it shattered. In order to form the coveted “nation-state” symbols and images were chosen and fed to the people. We are the same people, we all like mariachi and tortillas. Thus Mariachi was blasted on the radio, in the streets and later on the television. The popularity of the Mariachi peaked in the 1950s and 60s, nowadays the media feeds us poor schmucks Banda constantly, I’d much prefer Mariachi to be honest. Mariachi continues to play a very important role in Mexican culture, not just for these rare players of the Plaza. In September Guadalajara hosts the International Festival of Mariachi. Mariachi wannabes from as diverse corners as China, Japan, USA, South America, Canada, Italy attempt to match up to the original Tapatio sound. Yet as José boasted to us, none are as good as the Guadalajara Mariachis – the original and the best. So the Mariachi tradition is still going strong and has spread, apparently it now enjoys considerable fame in the U.S.A where Mexican migrants have introduced the tradition.

All girl mariachi groups now exist too, there are at least 2 such groups in Guadalajara as well as mixed groups. Mariachi music is not going anywhere anytime soon.

Just to keep y’all updated, I’m in a much more positive mood since the start of the blog post. One college from work gave me some Tetley’s tea bags and as it’s a miserable rainy day, proper tea and a Mexican version of a scone have perked Ellie and me up no end. So here's a cheesey picture of us having a nice time at the waxwork museum.

K.

Stunt Double

Hold the phone - is this a podcast? Geniusly edited? WHY YES.

I just saw two camels?!

So, over the Christmas holiday break, Katy and Ellie went away for a week of Mayan/Caribbean sea adventures, and it was brilliant.

First things first, follow this link to watch Volaris’ (the airline) safety video, it is genius http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kfffbkNwmPY . We had two main destinations, Chichen Itza and the ruins there and then Tulum, where we spent the majority of our time, with the ruins, beach and Caribbean Sea. We travelled predominantly by bus, which did not wholly go without fault (terrible films, over the top air conditioning, missing a bus; the usual fun and games).

In Chichen Itza we stayed in a “deluxe tent” at an “eco” hotel and campsite, located if not in the back of beyond, at least in the beyond. It was actually a small plot of land in the forest with some tents and an open air kitchen and bathroom, and some terrapin turtles, which was cool, but not quite what we expected.  We were informed of one guest having seen a baby tarantula in the bathroom.

Chichen Itza, although it is one of the main tourist attractions in Mexico and therefore rather busy and full of street sellers, still retains its grandeur and ability to impress. The main pyramid is just huge, but that’s not all there is to see. It was a veritable city in the jungle and the ruins extend much further than we had ever expected. Whilst wandering around the ruins we were constantly followed by the sound of jaguars roaring. Don’t be alarmed, they weren’t real! One of the key wares sold inside the ruins site was something you blow into to make this jaguar sound, and clearly the sellers had had time to practice, it was quite realistic. The Mayan people are still around, and at a bus stop earlier we were listening to some people speaking in Mayan, which was really cool, it sounds pretty different, with lots of clicks. As we’d spent the day travelling, our energy ran out before we had seen all of the ruins (it was a valiant effort though, we assure you) so we headed to the nearest town for some dins (where a moth exploded on Katy’s glasses).

 The character and randomness of the campsite was multiplied when we returned after dinner to a power cut, it was incredible dark, and quite spooky, but hilarious (Katy got freaked out by her shorts, twice!). However, it did mean that everyone was in bed by 8:30, our spiritual home?

The next day started and ended very well, the middle bit wasn’t so grand. By pure chance we had ended up staying in Yokzdnot, a town whose Mayan name means “village on a cenote”.  To the cenote then! Cenotes are incredible natural creations which are just far too beautiful to belong to this world. Perhaps the best way to describe them is as wells, massive, deep, wells that form out of the limestone. Clear freshwater oasis’s surrounded by jungle foliage. This particular Cenote had an accompaniment of swallows circling continuously above the water. Taking a dip in one, just Ellie and Katy, it seemed the perfect way to start the day, though it should be noted it was rather chilly! Later we attempted to get the local bus service to the Chichen Itza bus station, but being Christmas Eve, and in “the beyond”, no bus turned up. We waited at the palapa bus stop for 2 entire hours and not one bus nor taxi went by; needless to say we missed our ride to Tulum. 

Eventually we did make it to Tulum, after a chilly bus ride which had as entertainment a show about American road signs and traffic…. Tulum did not disappoint. We were lucky enough to have ended up in Mama’s Home hostel. We think it wins title of best hostel we’ve ever visited. Within minutes of being shown into our dorm with 4 beautiful new friends we were informed of the forthcoming Christmas Dinner laid on free by Mama and co. Don’t mind if we do! Our new pals had big plans to get up early on the following day (Christmas Day) and bike to the ruins to enjoy it without tourists and then ride to the beach and they didn’t hesitate in asking us to join, an invite we happily accepted. Katy was pathetic and tired so lasted until the unearthly hour of 9.30pm before calling it a day on Christmas Eve, we fell asleep with excited thoughts of ruins and jungle the following day.

CHRISTMAS DAY!!!

Christmas day was amazing, definitely memorable. We only had one injury, so we would say it was a success. Ellie kicked the day off by throwing herself off her bicycle on our way to the ruins as an emergency braking system. But we made it to Tulum just before all the tourists started pouring in from all corners of the globe. Another morning dip, this time in a wavy Caribbean under the beautiful Mayan ruins, not a bad way to start Christmas 2011.  Stunning blue sea and white sand beaches seemed to be the order of the day. After an explore of more impressive ruins we took the bikes and headed to the aptly named “El Paradiso” beach. Lunch was salad, the healthiest Christmas Day we’ve had to date. After more swims and walks in Paradise, meeting a friend of Alan Ginsberg (impressed Laura?) Jen, Ellie and Katy decided to cycle home. Felix’s instructions had been fairly clear but apparently we decided to ignore them. After cycling perhaps an hour in the wrong direction and ending up in what was arguably a jungle route, we decided to ask for directions. This being Mexico the only road back home was the one we’d missed waaayyyy back. Only option was to turn around, crash violently into a smoothie place in desperation for sustenance and continue our way home. Good smoothies though and it was a highly enjoyable ride regardless. Bloody tired by the time we got back to the hostel. But fear not, the Yuletide celebrations were not over; room 6 had big plans for a fish dinner at a local recommended restaurant, with cocktails to boot. If there was one phrase we overused during the week, in defence of anything slightly excessive it was: “it’s Christmasss!!!”. Indulgence was a key ingredient of the holiday – judge us if you will, it was Christmasss!!!

Boxing Day we went to Grand Cenote in Tulum, which was a lot shallower, but had more of a cave system. We took snorkels, and though there wasn’t that much wildlife to sea, you could dive around in the caves and through the stalactites. Katy had a big eye.

On the 27^th, Katy, Ellie and Jen went on a trip to Sian Ka’an, the local and very extensive nature reserve. There is jungle, huge lake-like cenotes, interesting animals and plants and Mayan ruins. We started the tour with an hour long float down a river, which was hilarious. You perch lying precariously on a life-jacket and float down stream, trying not to get dragged into the mangroves. The seemingly weak current turned out to be pretty strong when we tried to walk back to see a baby crocodile, it took a long time and a lot of effort (and laughing), but it was worth it, baby crocodile! We discussed Torchwood with Sarah, a 6-year old American girl, and the very real probability that the mangroves were actually aliens. After our float, we walked back to the boat, drove across the massive flat, very bright cenote/lake, and had a fruit break (never thought we could eat too much fruit: we ate way too much fruit). We then went for a trek through the jungle, trying to avoid the very prolific, very poisonous scaly trees, and climbing very steep ladders to a high-up lookout. We then stumbled upon the Muyil Mayan ruins, which were extensive, and very overgrown. It was really good having a guide who knew about the Mayans, and good doing a trip with kids, because they just wanted to climb everything and go inside all the rooms, so we got to all be proper explorers (a bat nearly flew in Ellie’s face, that was a new experience). We were then treated to a lovely traditional lunch, it’s interesting how different the food is in each region, the frijoles were black!

On our final day, we went snorkelling to Akumal beach, which we heard had great wildlife. After swimming around for a while and seeing only sea-grass (“not exactly the Great Barrier Reef”- Katy) we swam further out and found the coral reef. The coral reef was fantastic, all sorts of different life there, with squidgy looking sponge brain coral, and delicate, brightly-coloured leaf exoskeleton coral. Then there were the fish, not bothered by us at all, we ended up head butting a few accidentally. Our favourite was the big pastel fish; Katy’s least favourite moment however was when she found herself in the middle of a school of sword fish. We saw sting rays, and, the piece-de-resistance, 3 massive turtles! It was fantastic to see them in their natural habitat, just having a little sea-grass snack. One came up for air right next to Katy, she was very close, and very cool about the whole thing (Ellie has the irrational fear they will bite her toes). It was a brilliant end to a lovely trip, and a very memorable way to spend Christmas 2011. Happy new year everyone.

K & E