Now, I will be honest. I had no particularly large desire to go to Mexico. I felt like I should eventually go, as someone who has dedicated a lot of time to studying Spanish and learning about different cultures, because Mexico is so often referenced in [Spanish] classes. I figured if I had to spend a couple hundred dollars at least to leave the country and travel around, I might as well go to see my friends, who had just finished working their summers in Mexico and Honduras. So, I bought my round-trip flight. I was only in Mexico for 5 days and spent a large majority of that time in Tulum, which is in the Yucatan Peninsula. My first afternoon was pretty normal; I travelled from Cancun via bus to Tulum so I could meet up with my friend Caroline. I mastered the whole ‘packing light’ concept that people rave about so it was easy enough for me to get around with just the duffle bag carry-on. I met up with Caroline and spent a significant amount of time walking around in the dark back streets while trying to find a hostel for me to stay in. Now, I say this, but it wasn’t dangerous, nor did I really mind because we had a lot to catch up on. But, quite literally an hour after I got to town, we found the recommended hostel (and trust me, Tulum is too small to end up walking around for an hour in the same 4 square blocks). The hostel was only around $12 a night. Score. So after dinner, I went to sleep early for my full day at the beach the next day. Tuesday was a very great day. I spent my first day since May on the beach. I couldn’t believe it- 3 months in Costa Rica and I hadn’t even been able to properly tan. So, I sure got it in by sitting for 8 hours on and off under the sun. The weather was good, it was fairly quiet. It was exactly what I was looking for on my ‘vacation’.
Now, Wednesday is when things started to get weird. I set off to a cove to snorkel with sea turtles with Caroline while we waited for our other friend, Olly, to get into town that evening. I was so excited about the sea turtles. I had been thinking about it for days and had no idea what to expect. Within 15minutes of us getting to the beach, we realized there was a bit of chaos unfolding. A girl was coming out of the water hysterically crying, I was thinking jelly fish sting? But, then I saw it as I looked a bit further up the beach. Someone was visibly getting CPR.There was a crowd starting to form around the group of lifeguards, and it was obvious this recently started. Caroline and I stood at a distance watching for at least 10 minutes while CPR was being given, other officials were getting into action, and finally someone came with an oxygen tank from a nearby dive shop and hooked it up to him. Both of us being first aid trained, knew that although he may be breathing, after such a significant amount of time receiving CPR, it would be very near impossible for him to make any type of recovery. We don’t know anything about what happened, his relation to the girl (because it was apparent she in some way knew him), or even where he was from, though he was a bigger, white guy. At about 15 minutes of us watching, the ambulance arrived and he left on a stretcher with an oxygen mask. Within minutes, the beach was back to normal, but it was hard to jump into the water after potentially seeing a drowning victim. So, we sat on the beach. Eventually, we rented the snorkel gear and went out into the water, and I immediately freaked out as soon as I saw my first sea turtle. I say ‘first’ because I saw many, as they fed on the sea grass. I was able to get so close and take lots of photos, up until my waterproof camera that I had used in the water before decided to longer be waterproof. Feeling drained from the day’s highs and lows, I returned to rest before Olly got into town. When we met up later that evening at the apartment Caroline was staying at, things felt a bit more normal. And, during a catch up session with Olly, I decided to help myself to a glass of water. It wasn’t until I tasted the slight saltiness that I realized what I had done. In Costa Rica, I had been accustomed to drinking the tap water, which is something that is very safe to do with the exception of a few costal towns and isolated areas. But, I wasn’t in Costa Rica, I was in Mexico. And, the scene from the Sex and the City movie literally flashed through my head. For those that aren’t familiar, it is when Charlotte accidentally drinks some water in the shower while in Mexico and almost immediately after had diarrhea resulting in her crapping her pants. Great. Now I’m in for it, I thought. I literally broke the one cardinal rule of Mexico. The day had been a series of unfortunate events. Which fortunately for me, did not end with embarrassing, explosive bowel movements.
Thursday started normal and I got to swim in a ceynote which is a really cool thing. My mom can probably explain it better than I can, because she was the one who told me about them (I cannot express enough that I literally knew nothing about where I was going in Mexico, or really even Mexico itself until I landed- I called a friend on my way to the airport before leaving Costa Rica to ask for the exchange rate of dollars to the local currency which I found out was pesos). Basically, it is a freshwater pool which often has numerous underwater caves that are scuba dived, which sounds super cool- but I am not padi certified, major fail, so I just swam around- enjoyable none the less. In the evening, after the most amazing BBQ ever at another local hostel, the three of us made our way to Playa del Carmen- which is more or less the halfway point between Cancun and Tulum. My flight was leaving the next morning, so I decided to opt for only taking the bus for 1 hour, also I wanted to scout the area because I had a potential job opportunity in the town. I bought my 8.05am bus ticket for the next morning, since I had such an early flight. And then, we hit the town. Playa del Carmen has a main street that is sort of like Hollywood Blvd on crack. You almost think you are in California with the massive amounts of tourists, variety of restaurants, bars, souvenir shops. Almost. Besides the guys hustling to sell you drugs and the obscene amounts of tequila for sell. Skip the rest of the night, which didn’t involve drugs nor tequila, and you have me the next morning being accused of being drunk and trying to get on the 10am bus with an 8am ticket, because I thought it was 8am. Silly me, I had Caroline set her alarm for 9.45am...when my flight was leaving at 10.50am from a city an hour away. Do the math, and you already know I definitely missed that flight, with out any hesitation. I learned my lesson though, because my re-route stuck me in Mexico City for 8 hours, which would have been a great opportunity to get out and see the city, if I hadn’t been so...well, hung over. Instead, I slept on and off like a bum in the airport, only for my 9.30pm flight to be delayed until 12am, increasing my layover in Mexico City. I was so happy to leave the country, honestly. I arrived into San Jose at around 2ish in the morning, crashed at a friends apartment, got up at 7am to head to the beach on the Pacific side of Costa Rica for the weekend, and I was so happy to be back. Although, I had some winning points in Mexico, it definitely kicked my ass. I think I would like to go back, and spend more time traveling, but maybe in a few years.
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