Published: January 11th 2012
January 11th 2012
Sitting on the plane in a midst of nervous excitement, both of us catching glances at each other, reading each others' minds: are we doing the right thing by following our dreams, wanting to go see other cultures and finding out what this travelling business is all about. Or am I just taking a massive gamble in quitting a good, rewarding job with awesome people, moving out of my house and paying to keep everything in storage, spending pretty much all of my money (though lets be honest here I would have spent it wether at home or away!) The prospect of returning jobless, penniless, homeless is daunting no matter how great the adventure may be.
Well Stef has had to get to grips with his travelling business straight away as we landed safely in Cancun but unfortunately his luggage is taking an extended unplanned visit to the Eiffel Tower e.g. Air France fucked up and lost 20+ people's bags :( Stefs done well at making the best of what he'sgot i.e. Shorts, trackies, tshirt and hoodie, but inevitably its meant sacrifices have had to be made - raving in beach or plane gear aint a good look!
So Coco Bongos, Daddy Os, Senor Frogs will just have to wait patiently for our arrival.
Thankfully our hostel and the people we've met here have brought the fun to us. Drinking on the roof top terrace with canadians, americans, french, aussies, swedish catching jokes has meant we haven't really missed out at all. The roof top terrace has no dress code and noone here is too bothered about the big clubs - $40-$65 cover charge doesn't sit well on a travellers budget.
The laid back atmosphere of the hostel in downtown Cancun surrounded by cheap but yummy taco stalls, the local mexican nightlife of openair movie screenings, fire eaters, church masses at all hours with the doors wide open, whilst police on pickups with masked faces and M16 rifles coast the streets is definitely a more entertaining surrounding than a load of naked US college kids on spring break as was my experience previously (yes, the time the flight company went bust and me and Becca had spent our last pesos on chocolate and cocktails, leaving us stranded with no money, no accommodation and our family thinking we'd been kidnapped as we only
had enough money to call home and ask to transfer money into our account before the line would go dead).
The second Igot here, shattered after 24 hours travelling and was shown our room known as "the cave" I felt a rush of calm descend over me which I have been longing for for months. After a long sleep in the pitch black (the cave has no windows, no matter how many carrots you eat there's no way you're getting any kind of bearings in this room), and a freshly made breakfast of pancakes topped with scrambled eggs wit bacon and finished with maple syrup, any resemblance of a hangover is forgotten.
We spent one day zipping round Isla de Mujures on mopeds with our entourage, the hostel gang... Oh and a golf buggy. Let's just say there was a couple of near death experiences but luckily although Stef maybe a speed freak he's also a safe driver so we only witnessed the near death crashes thank god! We also witnessed Cancun's road safety rules... Or lack of...a toddler seemingly driving the moped for his dad- got to get them started early, and a
mum and a tiny baby catching a ride on the back of a moped, the mum with the carry-cot slung over her shoulder like the latest Mulberry bag - maybe the mexican way of winding a baby.
Dinner of fish tacos with free beer and free shots of tequila for the whole group, thanks to Stef's flirting, I mean friendly nature, which led to me taking photos of him with his new admirer grabbing his pecs... Think it made the waitress's day bless her!
Stef doing walking handstands down the road, me and him entertaining the locals with our sand wrestling, Stef jumping on a local kid's skateboard, Stef attempting to climb a coconut tree (unsuccessfully) all added to the fun day trip- though not gonna lie I'd feel a lot better about the adventurous side of Stef coming out to play if the 1st aid kit wasn't still chilling in Paris. Stopping off at different beaches, all small pieces of paradise with their white sand, turquoise waters, laced with palm trees and the added atmosphere of some house and hiphop music... and a few beers thrown in for good measure.
As well as chilling on the beaches we have been doing some workouts (need to work on the dream of perfecting the beach body), been running, boxing, pressups etc in the midday sun. One day we decided that wasn't enough exercise for us so we decided to walk home from the beach. Two and a half hours later we're still walking convinced every turn of the road would reveal a landmark we recognised. A cabbie tells us it's at least another hours walk so we send him on his way feeling rather pleased with ourselves that we didn't fall for his tourist trap. Half an hour later we're still walking, our stubbornness allowing all the buses to drive on past. As our blisters worsen we realise that firstly the cabbie was telling the truth and secondly that we'd walked at least 3 hours to avoid the bus fare of 30p... Clearly have traveller mentality already. When we finally give in and hop on the bus and see just how far we still had to go the we realise it actually would have been a 4 hour walk home from the beach!
With our realisation of how cheap
we've been we reconsider this little steak joint that had given us a taste of their steak as we walked past the day before and oh my god I actually couldn't believe meat could taste that good. It would cost almost £5 to eat there, rather pricey considering most dinners cost £1.50 so we'd kept on walking. But after putting our feet through hell we deserved a good feast. All I can say is that steak was quite possibly the best food I've ever tasted in my life! No words passed between me and Stef... Him totally satisfied, me in complete shock I could be such a carnivore. All was going well until the last mouthful when I thought about what I was eating... Game over! But along came the tequilas and all was good!
We returned to the hostel both anxious as to wether his bag would have arrived yet. I've saved you the hours spent chasing Mexico, Paris, London being told lie after lie- it had got to the point we didn't think we'd see the bag again. So when we walk into the hostel all I here is an excited squeal and Stef doing
some kind of bear hug dance with his bag to a audience of bemused faces. I get told I ain't allowed in the room tonight as he needs some alone time with his bag!
So Cancun ends with a very excited Stef thinking all his xmases have come at once and a slightly sunburnt Rachel.. Damn dose irish roots!
There are more photos below