March 24, 1987
Ola! Buenos dias, amigos! My bicycle has called me to new surroundings. I flew to Cancun, Mexico, on March 17 to enjoy a week with the Kamp Springbreak Trip. I loved being with them.
Kamp friends looking off South Point
on the Isla Mujeres.
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I got to know several of them better, and I loved being around them. We went para-sailing near the Sheraton Inn, snorkeling at the Isla Mujeres, tanning at the Club International. I had seafood at several places: Safari, Papa Gayos, and Carlos & Charlie’s. Papa Gayos was without doubt the best.
From Cancun, I have begun riding west toward Acapulco. The first day out was long and hard. I rode mostly in the hot sun of afternoon and it did deplete me.
I’m riding on a two-lane highway comparable to a secondary highway or even a county road in Arkansas. The traffic is light. Many of the vehicles are either taxis, buses or trucks. Very few civilian vehicles and those few are rented cars.
I imagine tomorrow will be different. So far I’ve been traveling between Cancun and Chichen Itza. I figure most of the tourist don’t go beyond Chichen Itza.
A thatched house near Cuncunal, Mexico.
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I’ve passed through a dozen small villages. Very primitive, very strange to my mind. I’ve also come through a couple larger towns, Valladolid and Chemax. They were made of two-story structures throughout the city except for cathedrals at the center.
I camped in the bush during the night before last. I felt dehydrated as well as some exhaustion from the heat.
While in Valladolid, though, I did almost sell my bike for about five bucks. I had stopped for lunch at a little tienda and came out to sit on the curb and eat. Two guys came bicycling up from the other direction. One turned off before getting to me, but the other guy kept coming. He had a swarthy face and was dressed in some kind of police or military uniform, and he had a rifle slung over his shoulder. He stopped across the street and came walking over to me.
I thought, oh, no, what have I done? He had a very serious look on his face. Instead, when he got to me, he started asking me the usual 10 questions, except in Spanish: From where had I come? How far was I going? How heavy is the bike? Etc. I did my best to answer him with Spanish and surprised myself with a couple answers that he recognized. Then he asked me how much my bicycle cost? I did the math in my head for the exchange rate between pesos and dollars and told him the cost in pesos. His eyes got big and he started pulling money out of his pocket. Then I realized I had the decimal point off at least a couple digits and had told him my bike was worth $5. We started laughing at my mistake.
Last night, I arrived at Chichen Itza and am staying two nights at the Club Med here. Air conditioning and a soft bed have helped. I question whether I can keep on for long. My body is obviously not made for such extreme heat and humidity.
I miss home and friends immensely. I’ve begun thinking about my goals for this trip. I guess a secondary reason was to learn more about Mexico, but my primary desire was just to see if I could do it. Plop myself in the middle of a foreign country and try to survive. So far, I am alive.
I stayed at a little hotel called Suites Albatros, run by a guy named Pepé. It’s in downtown Cancun just off the Centro. Spartan, but clean and cool. I ended up staying there for six nights. During the daytime, I walked and bicycled around the old part of town. It was nice to bum around Cancun for a few more days and see some of the back streets and hidden corners.
