Then as a casual after thought it says ‘of course if you don’t mind doing the light metering and focusing manually you can just glue the sub-mirror to the main mirror. So with a safety pin applicator, some instant gasket, a steady hand, lots of hope, little faith, and nothing much to lose I stuck the mirrors together. And what do ya know? I only bloody worked. Whoopee, let’s go see some more sites.
Time for some hard core culture. Man those Mayans built some cool stuff. I'm not going to go into the history, construction, and the time periods, the reasons the rulers and the rituals. If you want names places and dates you’re on the wrong site, this is just the instant gratification of the visuals. Cus wow they are really big, really old and really cool. And I think frustration would be the leading sensation if I didn’t have a device to capture it all with.
Ok I'm going to drop some names just for location purposes, but before I hit the road to ruins I stayed in the boarder town for 4 days in the end, making decisions and all that, and not for the first time this trip I feel like I'm leaving a family when I leave this little hotel, they give me their personal phone number in case of emergency, I can check out anytime I like but I can never leave completely, I always feel like I left a little bit of me behind. You just don’t get that at a travel lodge.
So after the heart retching departure I am soon faced with the army check point again, ‘you said you were going to Guatemala, how come your still here?’ But he’s friendly, shakes my hand like an old friend and probably for the first time logs reason for return through check point as ‘broken camera’.
So first I rode to Calakmul this is a remote setting in the jungle, (the bonus of having a bike, remote becomes accessible) with undefined lines that divide Guatemala with Mexico, and in fact due south is Tikal, the World famous ruins in Guatemala. What do ya mean you’ve never heard of ‘em? Well you have now.
I got there late, the little man on the gate explained it was a 40km ride and they close at dusk, all in Spanish and I totally understood. I thought for a minute, I can do this, he took my bike details, (clean, overloaded and cool looking) and off I went on a single track jungle road. I don’t want to imagine what lurks in the undergrowth and the things that crossed my path were big, cat like and fast. (Big for a pussy cat but not ‘big cat’ lion type size) I pay my £2 and in I walk, and walk and walk, I would have taken off my too hot, too heavy, too uncomfortable, and too big for me Alpinestar bike boots if I had known the distance. Carrying a jacket and heavy tank bag with me it was not a pleasant stroll but a sweaty rush to see something before the sun set. Rushing past ruins in the hope of more spectacular sites. I was not disappointed, a pyramid, in fact a plaza of pyramids, and not many people. I don’t need to climb em, I'm happy to just look.
‘If you climb any, climb this one’ said some one else’s guide, ‘Really?’ ok then, being still nimble, agile and able (unless faced with a Himalayan mountain range) I climbed up the big steps with an envious speed. Oh right, a view of course, that makes sense. Toucans, monkeys and monuments poke their heads out of the dense jungle and the sun bows its head to the coming night. Oh look, over there is another massive pyramid, with a kissing couple on top, how beautifully romantic, now sit the fuck down your ruining my picture, light and focus I can do manually, removing your prolonged embrace from the pinnacle of this pyramid I can’t do. I can only wait for their magical moment to pass.
I can’t wait any longer, I go the other pyramid. Actually I usually find in these places I would rather sit at a lesser site in tranquil solitude and contemplate and appreciate than go for the star attraction and agitate and frustrate. However who was left, has gone home now so I wander over and climb to the top; actually it was better viewed from afar. But I'm here now and so are Roberto and Gloria, still in there loving embrace, they are young, clean and beautiful, to my mature, road hardened and weathered look, but they are keen to spread the love, taking photos of me, with their camera, with my camera, then can I take one with their camera? Then with mine. When every possible combination has been captured from every angle, hang on a minute why didn’t I get to hug Gloria?
Email addresses are swapped and now in utter darkness and with sore and blistered feet I decide to canter down, back to the forest floor to find my way out. Roberto calls after me. Please wait for us; we don’t know the way, well hurry up then. And as the monkeys screech and the jaguars and pumas lie in silent stealth we chat in ‘Spinlish’ as we trot along the path by the light of the moon and his blackberry.
The attendants have gone home; with the bleep of a remote control, doors open and my friends are gone too. And I'm left alone with just the noises of jungle night life contemplating the possibility of spending the night on top of a pyramid. (They are not totally pointy, it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable) But what of the wild life? And my taken details? I think I’ll just say goodnight to the temples. I ride the featureless road with care and spotlights on full, I don’t ride at night; it’s a big ‘never’ on the list of things I try to avoid whilst biking. But I fitted these spotlights for just such an occasion, when a never becomes a necessity. And it’s actually a ride of no significance, apart from the cat type things, and I day (or night) dream my way back to the barrier. The old man is waiting with his headlight, to tick me off and check me off his clip board. When he calms down I ask if I can camp here. I can, thank god for tents that don’t need tent pegs. I set up in the corner of the car park and have a wonderful free night’s sleep, looking at my gorgeous bike outside my fly screen, outstanding in the moonlight.
I take a photo on 30 second shutter speed, not enough light was let in to the picture but plenty of mozzies were let in the tent.
Well that today’s stupid action, I can go to bed now.
Next day to Tulum. The ruins on the cliffs, the perfect turquoise sea beneath.
I sneak into these from the beach. Through the undergrowth and into the hordes. God I hate this, luckily the hordes have inadvertently bought about an option for those who think outside the rope. I duck under to a cordoned off area and sit on a cliff unseen but with a perfect view.
Right place right time. There is a stunning sunset and as the obedient multitude take they loud babblings back into their air conditioned buses, I’m left with a solitary silent sunset and an overwhelming feeling of contentment.
I think I’m meant to wander this planet alone if I'm to find lasting happiness. Company is great but has limited appeal. My own simulating selfish companionship has been most invigorating lately. I sometimes leaves me wondering, sometimes wanting but consistently reassures me the only company that I continually go back to is singularly my own.
But I'm happy to share the photos with you.
Next morning before it gets light I walk the beach again and get a sunrise to myself, then walk the grounds before the crowds ruin them, blatantly exposing my infiltration, and no one is there to see it or remove me. Smug, gratified and rewarded for my dawn escapades, I see my neighbour from the next hut at a beach restaurant and we have breakfast together.
‘Where am I going? Where have I been? Way am I going back? What did you do?’ the answer to every question is ‘the book’ I wish I could talk about something else. If I try to avoid the questions I sound like I'm being deliberately evasive and conjuring up intrigue. I'm not. I can’t tell a lie and I can’t change the subject. The book, all roads of conversation lead to the book.
Onto the next ruin Ek-Balam, over rated and disappointing, there’s restoration and then there is replication and I'm not sure what they are doing here. A plaster of Paris serpent, palm view-obscuring thatch? I walk around the base trying to see the point but this pyramid is as far as I can see, pointless.
Now I'm on the real tourist trail, where the Cancun holiday herds pull themselves away from their sun loungers, all inclusive meals and alcohol to do the Mayan tour. The locals are in tourist rip off mode, the beggars are rife and the friendly hospitality of the rest of Mexico has been replaced by the international greed and resentment that can be found at any major tourist attraction. I'm sure it’s perfectible acceptable if that’s your holiday outing but it’s not mine. That’s why there are early mornings and dusky evenings so I can visit whilst the less demanding and more sociable are in transit, in bed or in the bar.
I'm saving the best till last, Chichen Itza. A new 7th wonder of the world. That one everybody has heard of. I have low expectations but it can’t be ignored. So having found a hotel I can camp in.
I go in for my afternoon experience. The car park isn’t free; that’s a sign right there, extract money before you even get in. But I can’t get in. I can’t even buy a ticket. It’s between sessions, the day visit and the evening sound and light show. So I go to try to get my car park money back but that’s not going to happen either. Bastads!
I spend the evening with 3 fellow camper’s brother, sister and sister’s husband. They feed me and 5 hours disappear, in travel tales and the inevitable book promotion. They have a familiar dynamic due to their relationship with each other. Their ‘in jokes’ don’t exclude just endear. But I think due to their closeness I will only sell one book, it will be shared around.
In the morning I try again, (ruin viewing, not book selling) I blatantly park my bike the free side of the car park barrier, ‘say something, Senor car park ticket master, I dare you!’
I wait for the general admission ticket Nazis to decide to open up their shutters, cowardly, provocatively 15 minutes late behind their safety glass displaying their inaccurate exchange rates. Hurry up; don’t you know anything about morning light, photographic opportunity, light temperature, Kelvin’s and manual light metering? They have got resentment running rife before we even enter. A French woman has kicked off and is physically shaking with frustration, later I see her run past a pyramid to get the shot she wanted a quarter of an hour ago. Once in, I however am pleasantly surprised.
This is wonderful, maybe the 7th most wonderful thing in the world. It’s still empty, I find a quiet shady spot and gaze, and I really feel something. 5 years ago you could climb it, spend the night, but even now it still has magnificence beyond the barriers and the ‘ball park’ is equally staggering.
I'm impressed. And I'm out of there before the buses arrive, although there are still the inevitable spastics who insist on clapping their hands in the presents of any large structure, not in an act of appreciation but because they have never head an echo before. Do you really think the Mayans on top of their design and astronomy skills, when calculating the construction and positioning so as to project images of serpents heads at the equinox, actually decide a little bonus would be that it returns the sound of a clapped hand too? Fuckin idiots, shut up and just look can’t you?
Ok then, one more, I have just heard about Uxmal.
Why hadn’t I heard of this place before? It’s so vast and unvisited and now I really have inadvertently saved the best till last.
I wild Camp because I spent to long there and I'm not going to make it anywhere significant before dark.
I impatiently wait for dawn, ten hours sleep is enough. I'm in Campeche at 8am, how early can you check into a hotel? 8am apparently.
There’s no fatigue, the early hour, the cobbled streets and empty cool Sunday sensation,
it’s just a pleasure to ride round the criss-cross of brightly coloured terraces, looking for accommodation that meets my needs, (hot water and wifi) this place is like Lego land for grown-ups.
Another spectacular site waits, enhanced by another stunning sunset.
I can see I have aligned with the planets, everything is working out now, everything is enjoyable, there is appreciation and wonder, happiness and that illusive contentment that usually lasts as long as uncanny luck remains with me. It’s the slowest U turn; the country won’t stop wowing me.
It would be rude to turn my back on it now. What would I be doing if I hadn’t got my camera to work? Describing, that’s what, if a picture speaks a thousand words then spell check would take longer than usual.
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