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Tacos de Cordero

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Dining at the Market in Izamal

Yesterday’s post made me look back fondly to my 2020 trip to Yucatán. I made the acquaintance of a tour guide who helped me find medical care for some really bad blisters from too much walking the streets of Mérida. He recommended a nice jipijapa straw hat, which I bought because I was grateful for his help.

He lived in Izamal, which is an hour drive from the city. We got to talking about food. His favorite restaurant in Izamal was the city market, especially a stall which sold tacos de cordero, or lamb tacos.

Since I was planning to visit Izamal in any case, I noted down the info he gave me. Because my blister was healing slowly, I arranged for a taxi to drive me to Izamal, where I stayed at the Gardenhotel Macan Ché Bed & Breakfast. As soon as I dumped my bags, I walked to the city market and had two lamb tacos at the place recommended by my friend in Mérida (shown in the photo above). They were delicious—and very reasonably priced.

Izamal is known for its multiplicity of Maya ruins, especially Kinich Kakmó. More famous is the Convento de San Antonio de Padua, a huge yellow structure which combined a church, a monastery, and a fortification. Pope John Paul II visited there in August 1993.

After seeing the sites, my blister was healed; and I was able to take the Oriente bus back to Mérida.

The Oriente Bus from Izamal to Mérida

I was surprised to find that intercity bus travel in Yucatán had improved markedly since my last visit. Even the second class buses looked new and were air-conditioned. In 1980 or thereabouts, I remembered riding a Unión de Camionéros de Yucatán bus from Uxmal to Campeche with broken windows, busted seats, and no air conditioning.

Tropical Paradise?

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The Beach at Progreso, Yucatán

We have become accustomed to thinking of tropical beaches as some sort of paradise. When I first came to Southern California, I thought that way too. I used to go to the beach at Santa Monica which was within walking distance of the ocean. I would take a book with me and unroll my towel by Lifeguard Station #12. When it got too hot, I would run into the water and allow myself to be buffeted by the waves. I never learned to body surf, so sometimes I got tumbled around a bit.

Generally, I stayed for only an hour or two to avoid getting sunburned. As I was by myself, there was no one to spread suntan lotion on my back. After a few years, I would go to the beach only before the crowds showed up, around nine in the morning. Then I stopped going altogether.

Why? I really wasn’t that interested in frolicking in the water. Reading on the sand wasn’t that comfortable because it was usually too bright. I wound up falling asleep on my towel and waking up with a sunburn.

The upshot is that, although I visited a number of beach destinations in Mexico, such as Cozumel, Progreso, Mazatlán, Cabo San Lucas, and Puerto Vallarta, it wasn’t the beach that interested me. Frankly, I enjoyed the culture and cuisine more. I could get more reading done in my hotel room than on the beach, where there were vendors, sand flies, broken glass, and discarded plastic straws.

Maybe I’m a bit of a stick in the mud, but my last beach experience was typical. It was January 2000. Covid 19 was just beginning to be noticed. After visiting a number of Maya ruins (Izamál, Uxmal, Kabah, Labna, Sayil, Xlápak, Edzna, Ek Balam, and Dzibilchaltún), I decided to spend a few days in Progreso. Now Progreso is no Caribbean resort: It’s on the Gulf of Mexico and is the seaport for Mérida. The beachgoers were more likely to be locals escaping the heat inland.

The water is more green than blue, and the waves tend to be smallish. As I wandered along the beach, the vendors who set up places in the shade approached me and asked if I wanted a beach umbrella. I shook my head and said I desired sombre (shade) and not sol (sun). Instead, I found a bench in deep shade under the long pier pictured above, which extends 4 miles (6.5 km) out to sea. There, I sat back and read Paul Theroux’s Figures in a Landscape for a couple of hours until it was time for me to find some filete de huachinángo al mojo de ajo. That’s red snapper sautéed in a garlic sauce.

Angkor Wat

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Since my lack of funds has kept me from traveling to places that excite my interest, such as Southeast Asia, I must resort to what is called “armchair travel.” While I was growing up in Cleveland, I had this incredible desire to travel. Unfortunately, our travel destinations were Detroit, Passaic NJ, Schoenbrunn Village OH, and (once) Lake Worth FL. It was not until 1975 when I broke free and went to Yucatán to visit Maya ruins.

On Friday, I got together with several friends for lunch at a local Indonesian restaurant, Simpang Asia, in the Palms neighborhood, where I had a delicious Nasi Goreng.

Each Thursday, when I visit the Central Library downtown, I wait for the return of the Lonely Planet guide to Indonesia so that I can check it out for a few weeks. I remember reading Joseph Conrad’s Almayers Folly and The Outcast of the Islands several times.

So I find myself endlessly preparing for journeys which I may never take. But then, it makes life more interesting by adding to my store of knowledge.

Plotting a Getaway

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Isla Mujeres Seen from the Air

The island is a half hour boat ride from Cancun’s Puerto Juarez. It is approximately 4.3 miles (7 km) long and on an average of 0.4 miles (650 meters) wide. In the above photo, you are viewing the eastern tip of the island, known as Punta Sur. The main town and the best swimming beaches are at the far end.

I am in the process of trying to convince Martine to come with me for a week in Isla Mujeres. It would be a low stress visit with lots of great seafood and, at Playa Norte, a beach that has a sand bottom, no waves, no rip tides, no rocks, no seaweed, and plenty of clear, utterly transparent water of the right temperature.

Martine does not like traveling to Mexico (she’s been to Yucatán once and Cabo San Lucas once). I am hoping I can lure her with pictures of a no-fuss, no-muss destination with great seafood, swimming, and shopping. And virtually no automobiles, except for taxis.

Shopping on Isla Mujeres

Although Isla Mujeres is famous for diving and snorkeling, I have no intention to do either. I have never dived or snorkeled before, and I don’t intend to start at age 80.

I have been watching YouTube videos submitted by Internet Influencers. They have been useful for showing what the place looks like, and how young influencers like to get sloshed when they’re away from home.

Wish me luck with Martine.

Touring with Manuel

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The Main Square of Acanceh, Yucatán … With Pyramid

During my magical first trip to Yucatán in November 1975, I decided to hire a guide. I could have gone to a fancier tour office, but I settled on Turistica Yucateca on a Mérida side street. I wish I could remember the name of the owner who didn’t speak a word of English, just as I didn’t speak a word of Spanish. No matter, if you want to communicate, you will; and you will be understood, more or less.

The señora at Turistics Yucateca set me up with an English-speaking guide named Manuel Quiñones Moreno who had access to a car for two days of travel. Instead of going at first to the big Maya sites such as Uxmal or Chichén Itzá, I decided to “start small” by spending some time at Dzibilchaltún on the first day and then going to Mayapan the next day.

After touring Dzibilchaltún, Manuel and I sat down at the entrance to the ruins and played chess. I lost two games in quick succession to Manuel and decided he was several levels better than me.

The next day we drove to Acanceh, where we ate lunch on the zócalo in view of the pretty church and a Mayan pyramid. Then we drove to the late Maya ruins at Mayapan, when much of the peninsula was under the control of a militaristic government which was still in existence when the Spanish arrived.

When I was last in Mérida, I inquired if Manuel Quiñones Moreno was still around. Apparently, he was; and he was still a tour guide a quarter of a century later, though now based in Uxmal. I tried to contact him there, but he was not available when I called.

My Cities: Mérida

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On the Plaza Grande

The first place I went to outside the United States on my own was Yucatán in 1975. I have elsewhere described my feelings about landing in a strange tropical city at night. Something happened to me: I fell in love with the place and kept coming back, maybe eight or ten times in all. There was Calle 60, the Plaza Grande with its confidenciales, the 1901 Gran Hotel, Poc Chuc at the Restaurant Express, the refreshing fruit drinks at Jugos California, the nearness to hundreds of fascinating Maya ruins. And the Gulf of Mexico was only an hour away by bus.

Oh, it was hot and humid all right; but one learned to slow down and look out through the eyes of a lizard.

Calle 60 Street Corner Signs

Although Mérida is in Mexico, it is more of a Yucatec Maya city than a Mexican one. Most of the people are of Maya ancestry, and one frequently hears the Maya language spoken on the street. The city has fascinating museums of Maya civilization, art, and even music. You can find Mexican antojitos, but you are more likely to find Maya dishes like cochinita pibil, pavo en relleno negro, or pulpo en su tinta. You can even find hot dogs, hamburgers, and pizza.

Lunch at Chaya Maya Near Parque Santa Lucia

Many of my favorite restaurants are gone, like Erik’s Mil Tortas, El Portico de Peregrino, and the Restaurant Express; but interesting new ones have opened up.

Even though the sidewalks are narrow amid the heavy auto traffic, Mérida is a great walking city. When I went last in January 2000, I walked so much that I got a horrible blister on my right foot and had to see a local doctor to clean it out and patch it up. I was in a little hotel (shown below) that was almost half a mile from the main square.

The Hotel Piazzetta at Parque de la Mejorada

When I checked out of the hotel to leave for the airport, the cute young daughter of the owner came out to the taxicab and gave me a friendly kiss. One remembers things like that in the long days, weeks, months, and years that follow.

“Prepare Yourselves”

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Maya King at Mérida’s Palacio Canton Museum

After being conquered by the Spanish, the Maya of Yucatán wrote a series of miscellanies in the 17th and 18th centuries referred to as Chilam Balam. Many of the entries are poetic and filled with foreboding. Poet Christopher Sawyer-Lauçanno translated a number of them in his The Destruction of the Jaguar: Poems from the Books of Chilam Balam. Here is one of them:

Napuctum Speaks

Burn, burn, burn
on earth we shall burn
become cinders in
the blowing wind
drift over the land
over the mountains
out to sea.

What has been written
will be fulfilled.
What has been spoken
will come to be.

Weep, weep, weep
but know,
know well:
Ash does not suffer.

Mérida Noviembre 1975

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Street Scene at Night in Mérida, Yucatán

I had just landed on a Mexicana de Aviación direct flight from Los Angeles. I was thirty years old, yet this was my first trip alone that did not involve going “home” to Cleveland or going back and forth from Cleveland to college. The night was much darker than in a U.S. city, and the humid heat told me I was in the tropics. As the taxi sped to the center of town, we passed houses where I saw families seated at dinner in the dim light.

We passed a huge Coca Cola bottling plant that I later learned was the largest employer in the city.

The taxi pulled up to the Hotel Mérida on Calle 60 and I checked in. As soon as I dropped off my luggage, I took a walk down to the Plaza Grande and stopped in at several of the shops. I had a delicious meal at the Restaurant Express of Cochinita Pibil with a Cervéza Carta Clara.

Returning to my room, I finally bedded down for the night; but I couldn’t sleep. Several times, I rose from bed and looked out at the street from my ninth floor room at the Optica Rejón and other shops across the street, and a very different kind of foot traffic than I ever experienced in the States. Several times, I would stare at a Maya pedestrian dressed in the typical whites; and, knowing he was being watched, he would look up at me directly. How did he do that?

Eventually, I was able to calm down and get to sleep. Nonetheless I was up early the next morning, eager to acquaint myself with the city before branching out and visiting the Maya ruins on my schedule. I showed up at a local travel agency called Turistica Yucateca which was run by a helpful woman who didn’t know a word of English. Somehow I managed to book two trips with her using the same guide (Manuel Quinónes Moréno) who drove his own car.

The first trip was to the ruins of Dzibilchaltun just north of Mérida. The second was to the ruins of Acanceh and Mayapán, On my own, I managed to get to Uxmal and Chichén Itzá.

I was in seventh heaven. Almost nothing in this life had given me as much pleasure as that first trip on my own. As much as I have enjoyed all my journeys, that one was always special to me. It was the start of my travels. And now, as I approach the age of eighty, I still have the travel bug.

Casa de los Venados

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Mexican Folk Art from the Casa de los Venados in Valladolid, Yucatán

Perhaps the largest collection of Mexican folk art in private hands is on display at the Casa de los Venados in Valladolid, Yucatán, about a block off the Zócalo. The collection contains 3,000+ pieces of high-quality folk art. If you should ever find yourself in Yucatán, you should consider paying a visit. Not only is the museum an eye-opener, but the city of Valladolid is worth spending several days touring.

A Friendly Demon

You Can See Me Taking the Picture to the Left of the Cross

The Casa de los Venados is probably the best museum of Mexican folk art I have ever seen.

Seven Dolls

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Sign at Entrance to the Ruins

There are untold thousands of Meso-American archeological sites scattered through Mexico, Guatemala, Belize, and Honduras. Sometimes, it’s fun to visit some of the lesser-known sites. I have particularly fond memories of Dzibilchaltún, which is about 10 miles (16 kilometers) north of Mérida. It was the first Maya ruin I visited back in 1975 with my guide Manuel Quiñones Moreno. We set on the steps of a temple and played several games of chess, which I lost handily.

So it was fun to visit it again in 2020. Now there was an entrance hall, an admission fee, and a rather nice museum. Plus, the cenote was filled with children diving into the limestone-cooled waters.

The Temple of the Seven Dolls

Above is the most famous structure at Dzibilchaltún, the Temple of the Seven Dolls, named after a number of figurines that were found by archeologists buried under one of the altars.

The Seven Dolls Buried in the Temple

Dzibilchaltún is not a world class beauty like Uxmal, Chichén Itza, Copán, or Tikál, but it helps fill in vital parts of the Maya story. Although it doesn’t have a lot of first-class structures, the city was inhabited for over a thousand years. It was close to the coastal salt flats that led to the one item most frequently used in the coastal trade with other peoples, namely: salt.

And I have happy memories because this is one of the places where I began my travels as a young man.