Notes on a Cocktail Napkin

Today I went to Chichen Itza. It was voted one of the new seven wonders of the world in 2007. The castillo is a pyramid with a pyramid built around it and the outside pyramid represents the Mayan calendar. I know some people have calendars with birds and kitties and shit, but this calendar is a fucking massive pyramid. My question is: what took so long to for it to make the list?

I woke up at six in anticipation of my seven fifteen pick up. The van arrived around seven thirty. Now Mexico may lag in education, sanitation, and medicine, but they lead the world in air conditioned vans. These things are rolling boxes of freon. I wouldn’t let a child aboard lest it stunt his growth. It took a while to pick everyone up. One of the couples were staying in Playacar. Playacar is a gated community south of Playa Del Carmen. Think of it like Newport Beach, but gated with more white people and more Mexican employees. Playacar is my kind of place.

One thing that I noticed on my Edventure, but could not ignore on this tour is that Yucatan is Spanish for “Land of the Speed Bump.” There are more speed bumps in this mother fucker than tortillas. They have them on highways, often. And these aren’t the short, wide ones you can take at twenty-five in Santa Monica. These are land mines. In any case, it was so cold that I draped my towel over me and slept. I woke up at our first restroom stop in Tulum. I’ve learned to hold it as long as possible on third world road trips, unless of course, there’s an ocean near by. I picked up a USA Today, the first print news I’ve seen since I got here. The front page article was about the Oscars. Glad I could catch up on what’s going on in the world. The USA Today can suck my balls.

We eventually arrived at Chichen Itza. Our tour guide Eder, who was awesome, told us that we would have fifteen minutes to shop after the two and a half hour tour. I figured there’d be a gift shop or something. I’ve never been more wrong about anything in my life. First let me state, Chichen Itza is mind blowing. It is large and well preserved. The tour was so long and so full of information that I found myself drifting. I mean there are bas reliefs on every building with dudes with earrings, a flower on their forehead, and a large elephantine nose, and everything means something and it all incorporates Venus somehow. If you’re ever in the area, do not miss it. Got that out of the way.

I must say that I haven’t snapped one photo since I’ve arrived. Today I regretted not bringing my camera, if for no other reason than to document the Mayan flea market that exists on the grounds of Chichen Itza. In fifty square miles of Angkor Wat, you’ll find some kids selling some t-shirts. At Chichen Itza, there are rows and rows of tables selling the same crap. I wish I had my camera today if only to document this travesty. Alas, I only have a sixteen gig card, which only holds two billion pictures, a fraction of the crap for sale. And the worst part is that one dude in our group asked, “Will we be able to shop?” One, he already said we could. Two, what the fuck do you want to buy here? Look, I go to Venice Beach where they sell crap, but I only go there to see junkies and gang bangers. Walking around a pyramid that took two hundred years to build and is aligned with the sun in such a way that on March 21st, the sun shines in such a way that it looks like a snake is slithering down the North side of the staircase. I mean these people were geniuses and their descendants sit around hawking crap. I guess if I thought about it for a few minutes, they’re probably no different than we are.

After Chichen Itza, which while amazing, was long and tiring, we stopped off at Xkeken Cenote. This was actually the only place that I wish I had brought my camera. Luckily, you can click on the link above for pictures. It’s an underground swimming hole. Swimming in the water there’s a massive stalactite that resembles the head of a giant wooly mammoth. It was beautiful and creepy. There was something about being in there that I half expected a fresh water cenote shark to come up and eat me. Our tour ended in Valladolid, which is a colonial town where we finally had lunch at five. I had a taco, panucho, and a few other non-taco bell menu items that were all good. The ride home seemed to take forever. Although exhausted, yes, sleeping in an ice van tuckered me out, when I got home, I showered and hit the streets.

My friend, Steve Fowler, suggested I check out the Mezcaleria. I have found that many places that existed last year are gone and the Mezcaleria was no exception. I wasn’t hungry, but there were two places I had to go before I left. My first stop was HC Carnes de Monterrey. They are known for one thing, arrachera. My people call it flank steak. I got that with no sides and a Superior beer. If there were ever a better name for anything, I haven’t heard it. The steak was amazing. I’m not a huge fan of steak but this was marinated perfectly. It’s not the best meat but it was so flavorful. Next door was El Fogon, the place I ordered poorly on Monday. Everyone I ask about food in Playa mention these two places. I got two tacos al pastor to go. Al Pastor is prepared on a vertical spit with a pineapple on top. The al pastor guy would wipe the corn tortilla on the al pastor, cut a strip from top to bottom, ending with a cut and flick of pineapple into the tortilla. It was a hoot. If I ever need a moyle in Playa, I’m calling the al pastor guy at El Fogon. The tacos were good. I still don’t get the fuss.

I ended the night at the Hotel del Punto. I tried a couple places on 12th and 1st, but they were so loud and so big. I stumbled on the hotel just by seeing a sign. It’s got a roof top bar with a view of the Carribean and the lights of Cozumel on the horizon. I chose well. Tomorrow is my last full day in Playa. I’m starting to get a little sad about leaving. I don’t get sad about much, except for trying to watch youporn.com on one gigabit internet speed. It’s like watching two epileptics in a 1912 porn shot on nitrate film stock. Good night and bye thirties.

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