I don't think I've ever witnessed someone whip their eggs quite so thoroughly. Ignacio has made the four huevos look like a glass of delicious, frothy orange juice using a fork alone. And he's still beating them.
Today has been a quiet day. I went for my morning walk, accompanied my champion egg whipping host on a couple of errands and then walked around Pueblo Tulum in search of a pair of light, comfy pants for Boy.
And found none. No comfy pants. Zilch. Nada.
So I ate a chicharon quesadilla and drank a coconut milkshake to console myself.
But yesterday... yesterday was phenomenally full.
"We will start off in the ruins. Then we can go to the beach. Then we can swim in a cenote. Then we can go to a different beach. Then we can bike to the reserve and see the lagoon."
"WHOA," I exhaled. "Are you sure we can fit all that adventure into one day?"
"We can do it all. If you have the energy to bike. You sure you can go without your nap?"
Even though we'd only spent a single day together, Ignacio was already well informed of my napping habits.
"I can forgo my afternoon nap if it's for the sake of cenotes and beaches and lagoons,"
So Sunday began with my morning walk (like many need coffee to wake up and feel human, I need morning walks. Morning walks, morning yoga and morning cheese(s) make me a very happy, very productive lady), grabbed a couple pieces of fruit, a cup of shitty coffee and shared the main square with the miniature turtle doves.
Then Ignacio and I commenced our tour of the three Tulums.
"First, we have to rent your bike. Do you have your passport?" Ignacio asked. "You'll have to leave it with them as a deposit for the bike."
We rented a single-speed purple bicycle, complete with precarious basket and zero suspension. Then we biked to the ruins of Tulum.
"THERE ARE SO MANY TOURISTS!" I exclaimed to Ignacio. "Why are there so many of them? I mean, the ruins in Palenque are significantly more epic, and I pretty much had them to myself. Myself and some exceedingly friendly, incessantly apologizing Canadians."
"The beach. People come here for the beach and then visit the ruins because they're close by."
"Yup. Guess that explains it."
Tulum (the Yucatan word for "fence") was a port city for the ancient Mayans. It was occupied from the 1200s to the 1600s -- when the 1000 + inhabitants perished from European diseases.
But even though the ruins were gorgeous, the best part of my experience wandering Ruinas Tulum wasn't getting to see the ancient structures or feel the Caribbean breezes. It was getting to listen to Ignacio talk about Mayan medicine.
"This tree is poison. And you see that tree over there? With the peeling bark? That tree is the cure for this one."
This is what happens when your couchsurfing host is a shaman.
The first time I saw an iguana, I lost my bananas and pointed out the creature to Ignacio with as much enthusiasm and pride as if I'd just chanced upon a unicorn.
The 907th time time I saw an iguana, I calmly took a picture.
"He looks like a grandfather. Abuelo iguana."
As usual, it was hellishly hot out.
If you have even moderate difficulties tolerating heat, I don't advise visiting Tulum in July.
I have more than moderate difficulties tolerating heat, so after we left the ruins, we biked to a quiet spot on the beach to rehydrate in the shade.
Refreshed, we continued our journey to an eco friendly campsite with a cenote.
I was terribly confused when Ignacio said that this was the cenote.
"But aren't cenotes supposed to form when limestone collapses and the groundwater makes a pool?" I spouted off what wikipedia had taught me a day or two before.
"No, this is a cenote. It's still groundwater."
If I understand correctly, everything can be a cenote as long as the water is from some manner of spring.
If anyone knows anything about cenotes, you should post a comment and help me understand what makes a cenote a cenote. Because this just seemed like a really pleasant pond surrounded by mangroves. And crocodiles.
My skin started sizzling after about an hour in and out of the water, so we clamored back onto our bikes and plopped ourselves down in the shade of palm tree by the beach.
Where Ignacio proceeded to go on a coconut hunt.
And then proceeded to crack open the coconut using only his pocket knife.
Ignacio.
Is a real man.
We didn't do an awful lot of swimming because the sea was positively TEEMING with sargassum seaweed and the idyllically sandy beach was covered in drifts of smelly, rotting weed. Sargassum is a brown algae that can reach several meters in length and was discovered by a Portuguese sailor in the Sargasso Sea. From the Sargasso Sea, it drifts on over to the Mayan Riviera -- and decides that the Riviera is just the place for it to retire from its life of aimless drifting through the Caribbean.
In Chinese medicine, .5 grams can be made into tea to help rid the body of phlegm.
However, Tulum has a good deal more than .5 grams of sargassum, at the moment.
Sargassum that scratches ALL the mosquito bites on my feet and legs and drives me a little crazy.
Tulum. You're beautiful. But July is not your best month.
After a quick stop at the lagoon, we headed back to Pueblo Tulum.
"I had plenty of energy to do all those things," I collapsed into a pool of sweat in the kitchen chair in Ignacio's apartment.
"I was afraid that you'd fall asleep on the bike. That you wouldn't be able to go without your nap."
"Ha. No. All those ridiculous topes kept me very much awake," I ruefully rubbed my aching backside, cursing my cute purple bike with zero suspension.
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