Missing Money in Mayan Mexico

My phone vibrates gently in my hand as we climb back onto the bus after a short bathroom break, heading north to Campeche in Mexico. Whoever is messaging me can wait until I’ve cooled down, it was 40 degrees outside. After the third ping, I give it a cursory glance, expecting the standard WhatsApp messages. Oddly, it’s a series of notifications from my bank. ‘That’s strange’ I think, then turn my phone over to put it away, assuming it’s just playing catch up from recent transactions. A few seconds go by, my mind turns it over like a puzzle, sensing something just beyond recognition. I then realise the account was one I hardly ever use. Something more serious is going on. I check my wallet for the card, but then I remember it’s not in there, I use it so infrequently. I have to remind myself where it is, in my money belt, which, rather uselessly is in my rucksack. I drag it out from under my seat where it’s been for the last hour. The bank card, along with two others, are gone. I’ve been robbed for the first time in my life. I quickly go into the various apps on my phone to freeze all the cards. One of the accounts has unfortunately been taken for £50. Sitting back in exasperation I explain the situation to my wife, Jess. I think in relief that it could have been much worse, until I remember I had $600 USD in that money belt. It’s all gone. I’m so angry I could throttle the person if I found them.

As I ponder the situation as the bus trundles on, I can feel a small piece of my basal trust in humans dissolve, the part of my psyche that places quiet confidence in those around me crumbles just a little. I look around the bus suspiciously, wondering if my thief still has the audacity to be on board. Thankfully, they didn’t take my passport or driving license. How considerate. A real Robin Hood thief. The man at the hotel we arrive at a few hours later in Campeche says “yeah, it’s Narcoland down there”. 

Our trip in Mexico began 4 days earlier, crossing the border from Guatemala on a small minibus. When we arrived at the border we sat for two hours in the scorching heat, waiting for the immigration officer to inspect a girls passport, flight details, payment confirmation and, quite unbelievably, her personal bank balance. A stray dog wandered aimlessly across the border, clearly not needing a passport. In a truly stereotypical moment, a mariachi band strolled down the street from Guatemala, carrying their instruments along the dusty road wearing pale blue suits.

(A Mariachi band wanders across the border from Guatemala to Mexico)

Having left the steep hills of Guatemala, rich in trees and agriculture, the arid and barren landscape of the Chiapas region in Mexico was surprising. Bush fires seemed common; entire hillsides are covered with scorched black stubble. Sadly, the plastic lined highways continued into Mexico. There’s also a large amount of broken glass along the roadside, probably causing the bush fires; the power of the intense sun lensing its way to an inferno through broken shards. It’s either that, or cigarette butts. An hour after we’d crossed the border, the bus actually drove straight through a fire, you could feel the heat instantly on the windows as we passed by. Smokey air filled the bus. By 6pm, we’d finally arrived at San Cristobal de las Casas, having left Guatemala at 5am in the morning. It was a long day on the road, but our Mexican adventure had finally begun. 

As a passionate lover of cars, one of the first things I notice in San Cristobal is the number of old VW Beetles. In the U.K. they’re rare, having succumbed to rust in the ever present damp conditions. The cars here are all the colours of the rainbow, you can find one parked on most streets. I amass a small collection of photos as we walk the antiquated roads of San Cristobal. The centre has an unsurprising Spanish vibe and the old buildings make it feel quaint. It’s nestled in a valley of hills covered in pines. At night as we wander the central square we find locals dancing on a band stand. It’s a really nice town and feels local, but we only spend two days here before moving on further north to the Mayan ruins of Palenque. 

(Photos of VW Beetles) 

(The colourful streets of San Cristobal, Mexico)

We get on a minibus to leave San Cristobal at 4am. Unfortunately, we’re the last on the bus, so my seat is up front. It’s either intended for a man with no legs or a child under the age of 10. As we move towards the region of Campeche the vegetation becomes more tropical, less pine and more bananas and plantain. The sun rises slowly over lush mountainsides and mist hangs low in the valleys as people ready themselves for the working day by waiting for lifts at the roadside. Progress is slow, a combination of unmarked speed humps, winding roads, and a relatively low speed limit (80kph). 

Along the way we first visit the beautiful waterfalls of Aqua Azul and Misol Ha, before heading to the ruins at Palenque in the mid-afternoon heat. Our clothes cling to us immediately, but arriving later has the benefit that it’s getting quieter and quieter by the minute. As you walk into the well restored complex, imposing Mayan pyramids rise up on the right hand side. They’re stunning, and with the open cleared ground in front you get a real impression of what it must have been like at the peak of Mayan civilisation. One of the benefits of visiting this site over some of the more popular ones (e.g Chichén Itzá) is that you can still climb up a few of the pyramids, such as the Temple of the Cross. That said, in the heat it’s arduous work climbing to the top on the narrow steep steps. Large iguanas lounge around in the sun at the top of some of the structures.

(The cascading cataracts at Aqua Azul waterfall, Mexico)

(A large black spiny tailed iguana lounges at the top of a Mayan ruin, Palenque, Mexico)

Taking a small path to some of the lesser visited sections allows you to get a feel for what the ruins were like before excavation and restoration. Large trees bore their determined roots deep in to the Mayan limestone structures. Ironically, in some parts it’s now the only thing holding them together. Over the next few weeks we visit many more Mayan sites, giving us a sense of scale of their society. At its peak, referred to as the ‘classical period’ (250-900AD), it covered the entirety of the Mexican Yucatan, Guatemala, Belize and northwestern parts of El Salvador and Honduras. Unlike the Aztecs, which had a single emperor, Mayan society existed as a series of allied, or warring, city states. They rose and fell like the many empires that have existed since, some cities rising in prominence from the dense jungle and collapsing into ruin after over exploiting their environment. At least that’s one of the many theories for their decline. Whilst the Spanish conquistadors obviously brought havoc and disease to the region, classical Mayan society had already collapsed by the time of their arrival. Most of their great temples and cities had been left to be reclaimed by the jungle and lay in ruin. A number of them, such as Becan and Calakmul further south, were only ‘rediscovered’ in the early 20th century, sitting silently and unappreciated in the dense jungle. 

(The Mayan pyramids of Palenque, Mexico) 

(Jess wanders the grounds at Palenque, Mexico)

After losing a few litres of water, we travel to our hotel in Palenque. As we enjoy a beer by the pool, a canary flies by and a squirrel jumps through the trees. The loud calls of howler monkeys can be heard echoing over the forest. I float in the crystal clear pool for half an hour, just looking at the blue sky and wispy clouds above. I realise I’ve missed this. Just relaxing in a pool with nowhere to be and nothing to do. It seems very silly to say given we’ve been travelling for 8 months, but this is the first time I feel I’m actually on a holiday. 

After Palenque, we work our way up north to Campeche on the aforementioned bandit bus. It’s ironic given that it was arguably the nicest bus we’d travelled on in 8 months. From Campeche, we move on to Mérida, where we take a day trip to visit the impressive Mayan ruins of Uxmal, which were occupied during the classical Mayan period. It’s a guided tour, so we learn a lot more about Mayan culture, including human sacrifice and dedications to the various gods. We get shown what’s called a ‘Mayan ball court’. It’s a religious game where a ball needs to be hit through a hole. A classic. But the difference here is that it was probably the first ever ball game in human history, and on rare occasions the winner, or loser, (it’s decided before) may be subject to human sacrifice. It’s doesn’t seem like motivation to finish the game. Ball sports, chocolate and tobacco, these guys were ahead of the curve, albeit without the invention of the wheel, which still amazes me. 

(The 17th century fortress of Baluarte de San Carlos, Campeche, Mexico)

(The Grand Pyramid at Uxmal, Mexico) 

(Puuc style Mayan carvings at Uxmal ruins, Mexico)

Ironically, the collapse of the Mayan civilisation is likely what saved the structures we see today. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for their later northern counterparts, the Aztecs. When the Spanish arrived, the Aztecs were a highly ordered and powerful society that threatened Spanish dominion. During the years 1519-1521 the Spanish brutally defeated the Aztecs and destroyed many of their buildings. To obliterate any thought of rebellion, the huge and impressive Aztec buildings of Templo Mayor in their capital, Tenochtitlan (modern day Mexico City), were levelled completely to the ground. The endless rise and fall continues. 

That evening, in a rare moment of me being sociable, we get very drunk at what might be called a ‘party hostel’. It’s like exercise though, it generally ends in pain. The hangover the next day is quite spectacular. In an even rarer moment of weakness, we indulge in a Burger King, expecting a quick hangover fix at a bargain price, only to be stung for £22 for two overindulgent and low grade burgers. 

After our bus-based issues earlier in the week, we decide to get a rental car as we head north west towards the Yucatan coastline. Prices for everything are gradually increasing as we approach the tourist consuming beast of Cancun. Along the way, we stop at the impressive Mayan ruins of Chichén Itzá, entering at opening time. It’s not too busy, and we manage to see most of the sites before the heat gets up. On the way out though, the place has transformed. Vendors have set up on every thoroughfare, it’s like walking through a bazaar. The previously quiet site becomes filled with the sounds of jaguars, blown through cheap souvenirs to mimic their calls. It’s a little odd as I look at the jaguar carvings in stone made more than a millennia ago. Although maybe, on reflection, the scene is probably closer to what it was like in Mayan times, thrumming with life and the faint chatter of human interaction. The large ball court, the biggest in Mesoamerica, was empty when we first walked in, but by the time we leave you’d have thought there was a game on. By 11am it’s stiflingly hot and very busy. Whilst I really enjoyed the visit, I think I preferred our trip to the ruins at Uxmal. It was much quieter and still architecturally impressive.

(The impressive ruins of El Castillo, Chichén Itzá, Mexico)

(Carved skulls adorn a wall at Chichén Itzá, Mexico)

As we make our way further north west, we stop at two beautiful cenotes (limestone sinkholes) that you can often swim in. We walk down some steps into two underground caves to go for a swim in the cool waters. Swifts swoop down to take a drink whilst long shafts of light cascade down through narrow holes in the roof. Stalactites hang suspended from the ceiling as we float in the crystal clear waters with tiny catfish swimming around. They’re beautiful, quiet, and refreshing in the scorching heat. 

(Light cascades down into a limestone cenote, Yucatan, Mexico)

We continue in the car north west towards our next destination, the small island of Holbox, just off the northern coast. The drive takes a few hours through mainly house-height jungle. It’s hard not to be impressed by the density of the forest of mixed plants, palms, vines, trees. The entire Yucatan is completely covered with them. If you cleared them all I reckon they’d grow back in 20 years. On reflection, it’s not surprising so many huge Mayan structures remained hidden and undisturbed. The drive is interspersed with various oddities along the roadside; the two old school buses left to rot in the forest, vines crawling through their windows, a man riding along on his motorbike resting a chainsaw with the blade sticking out front, the junk yard filled with the carcasses of VW Beetles, the occasional waste pile where the globally popular sport of fly-tipping has taken hold. But, for the most part, its forest, km after km of dense, impenetrable, forest. 

Leaving the car on the mainland, we take the quick and easy passenger ferry over to Isla Holbox. The island itself is a long white sandy spit with only mopeds and golf carts for transport. Small two or three story hotels face out on to the blue Gulf of Mexico, and at low tide a long stretch of sand exposes itself to be walked along. It’s nice to have sand under foot once again. The main town is quite developed, possibly over-developed. It’s a bit of a mess in places. That said, an Argentinian restaurant serves us one of the best meals we’ve had in a long time. Most of the Mexican food so far has been well below par, lacking seasoning and all tasting similar, regardless of the dish. We also see our first ever racoons, climbing someone’s stairs at night. I imagine to an American it’s like saying I was excited to see a rat, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. When it rains heavily one evening the sand and chalk based roads, driven on by golf carts, turns into a mushy beige chalky mess. It certainly adds to the feeling of misguided over-development as it splashes over everything,  making the place feel quite dirty. 

(Jess enjoys a beer at sunset, Isla Holbox, Mexico)

(Sunset over Isla Holbox, Mexico)

Other than enjoy the coast, there’s not a huge amount to do on the island. Sitting under the palm trees I have a chance to reflect. My conclusion is that I’ve definitely reached middle age. That tipping point where your thoughts turn increasingly to your own mortality. I know I’ve made this transition because as I look up at the gentle wafting palm leaves, I’m less relaxed by them. Instead, my thoughts simply focus on whether a falling coconut will be the thing that will finally deal me out. Later that same day, three large ones drop like dead weights from the sky and land a couple of meters from my head on a sun lounger. The beach is quite dangerous, I must stay indoors. I’m definitely getting older….

We next move on to Isla Cozumel, a relatively large island off the east coast. We stay in an all inclusive hotel for the first time since I was about 25. Within seconds of arrival I have a burger in one hand and a rum and coke in the other. It’s a dangerous endeavour. The main reason to come though is not for the endless food and drink; the diving here is some of the best in the world. Clear warm water with great visibility. I swim with an eagle ray, a turtle, stingrays, huge lobsters and an abundance of tropical fish. The coral is colourful and, thankfully, mostly alive. Just swimming in the small section of ocean in front of the hotel I see a small nurse shark, vacuuming its way along a series of stones in search of food. The sun sets each day over the ocean towards mainland Mexico, it’s delightfully relaxing. I keep joking with Jess that ‘finally, after 9 months, we’ve started travelling’, each time greeted with a roll of the eyes. The limitless supply of alcohol takes me on a voyage of discovery to new cocktails, with both highs and some significant lows.

Our journey then takes us further down the Yucatan coast to Tulum, visiting the Mayan ruins of Coba along the way. They’re half restored and wonderfully quiet. We follow long ancient Mayan roads between small city states. It seems strange to have structures that are each about a kilometre apart with dense jungle in between, but I suppose it’s probably the same as if London burnt down in the Middle Ages and the forest took back over. With most structures being made of wood, you might walk from St Paul’s Cathedral to Buckingham Palace before you saw much in between other than trees. 

(A ruined pyramid at Coba ruins, Mexico) 

(A ball court at Coba ruins. Note the rings on either side. Mexico)

On the way back we stop at Cenote Zecil-Ha, a small but deceptively deep Cenote, the limestone sides extending underneath by an unknown distance. After 30 minutes, small bubbles creep up from the sides and three divers emerge into the central pool. I’d been diving down and holding my breath and swimming around in there for ages and I had no idea they were even in there. 

Our final days in Mexico are occupied by more Mayan ruins, both the sublime and the ridiculous. The latter was Tulum ruins on the coast, it’s quite small but beautiful, but it felt a bit more like a Disney site than anything archaeological. It has a beach bar adjacent to it that you pay extra to visit. The result is that as I wander around I see a woman wearing nothing but a thong bikini admiring the ancient ruins. I suppose given that the Mayans wore fairly minimal clothing, they may have approved. With its brand new manicured gravel paths and soon to be completed train station, it felt more like a tourist hub than any other site we visited.

(The manicured ruins of Tulum, Mexico)

After Tulum we drove to the sublime, Becán  and Calakmul ruins, 3 hours and 5 hours west in land from the coast, respectively. Becan is only a few minutes away from our accommodation and is completely deserted. Our car was the only one in the car park, it’s a world away from the intensity of the Chichen Itza experience. We wander the ruins as the sun fades. It’s a serene few hours spent admiring the power of nature to reclaim human efforts to tame it. 

The next morning we set off west and then south towards Calakmul ruins, only discovered following aerial surveys in 1931. 

It’s hard to access, driving two hours down dusty dirt roads from the main highway, but times are changing. The road has just been graded and asphalt is starting to be laid. A new train station is being built which will turn the most inaccessible Mayan site in Mexico into a simple day trip. It’s part of a major Mexican development to connect the entire Yucatan on a line called the Tren Maya (Mayan Train). For now though, it’s remote and wonderful. We climb to the top of Structure 1 and 2, two of the highest pyramids in the Mayan world at 50 and 45 meters high. From the top you can see nothing but dense jungle and other pyramids poking above the greenery. It’s everything I’d hoped for, like something out of an Indiana Jones film. Remote, peaceful, abandoned and hidden. It’s a great end to our time in the country. 

(add Calakmul pics)

(A baby howler monkey rests in a tree, Calakmul, Mexico)

After three weeks, our time in Mexico came to an end. I’d be surprised if I don’t come back, the coast is beautiful and has much more to offer, particularly under the water. It was hot, at times oppressively so, but if you plan your days accordingly you can work around it. In general, the food was pretty poor, bland and nothing like the western style Tex-Mex. I certainly won’t rush back for the food. 

After we’ve handed back the rental car we climb onboard a ‘chicken bus’, an old American school bus driven south to continue its life, similar to those of Guatemala. A baby’s crying in its mothers arms near the back. A small jagged piece of exposed metal stabs Jess in the left arm. A surprisingly cool breeze comes wafts in through the window. The engine turns over and loud Spanish music blares from the speakers. Like life itself, the old school bus just rumbles on, but now carrying much older passengers than when it started. It’s almost as if it’s first ever passengers never got off. Belize here we come.