A day of sun, at last!

We forgo breakfast in Valladolid to get a move on for Ek' Balam, a newly discovered Mayan ruin a half hour outside of town. A collectivo taxi takes us into the small town, also called Ek' Balam, to an ecological hotel at which we originally tried to stay in the earlier incarnations of our trip. In search of healthy, and possibly-vegetarian food, we hunt down the hotel which is open for breakfast and lunch. The space is a peaceful oasis of small winding paths that lead to individual huts, all huddled around a central pool--it appears to be more of a natural watering hole, than a lap tank. While the owner makes us oatmeal banana smoothies and fresh scrambled eggs with chaya herb, I use the juicer on the buffet table to squeeze out a couple of glasses. A couple nestles on a love seat nearby; hammocks swing in the breeze. Once sated, we eventually hop a ride towards the archaeological site with the lounging couple, Canadians from Victoria visiting the peninsula for three weeks.


Ek' Balam, simply put, is beautiful. Unlike many other archaeological ruins in México, they have not cleared the forest surrounding the site. Thus, the remnants of stone structures, pyramids and palaces sit nestled amongst trees and brush. It gives you more of a sense of what it might have looked like in the 9th century. Twin pyramids sit next to large ceremonial tombs. You can climb almost all of the structures, which is great fun, of course. The best part is that Ek' Balam is little-known, and thus, little-visited. Unlike the nearby Chichen Itza, which turns into Disneyland past late morning, Ek' Balam seemed to be our own little playground.

Sarah and Aaron hike to the top of the Acropolís, while I discover a path that winds behind the structure into the woods. It is so quiet in the deep of the trees that I start to imagine that I am being followed by a jaguar. I mean, they carve enough masks and statues of jaguars in Mayan art, is it so far off to think that some still lurk in the brush around these sites...? Later, Aaron informs me that there is no real way to survive a jaguar attack. Unlike with bears, where you're told to stay still, or sharks, where you punch their nose--jaguars will eat you either way, if you run, or huddle into a ball playing dead. So the best course of action is to attempt to kill it with your bare hands. Right.

I climb the Acropolís myself. Halfway up the steep ascent there's a kind of reward in the El Trono (throne), a huge jaguar mouth entrance, with teeth the size of over sized raccoons. It looks quite impressive; though, I overhear from the conversation of another group that there is some criticism of this restoration, and its validity.

The view from the top of the Acropolís is breathtaking. The Yucatán is as flat as Illinois. But replace cornfields with an ocean of low-growing green trees. In contrast with the brilliant blue of the sky (our first day of real sun, yahoo!), the trees and the cream stone pyramids almost sparkle; my camera just can't seem to capture it right.

Eventually, we three find the Juego de Pelota court; this is an ancient Mesoamerican ballgame played to the death. So we take this rare opportunity to have ourselves a quick round. It's a fierce game. Who would be the most agile, with hips and elbows, to resolve him/herself to win in the end?

In the final chapter, Sarah prevails.
But fate would have it that the community decides to sacrifice both victor and vanquished.

After Sarah and I rise from the dead, we realize we are really and truly sweating. Hooray! (This means a lot for a trio of pals who have been vacationing in the Yucatán without sun) So we exit out of the archaeological site and head "next door" to the entrance of Cenote X'Canché.

Roughly 65 million years ago a meteor crushed into the Yucatán Peninsula, leaving a huge vast impression in the stone on the surface. Jump to present times and tiny cracks have formed in the stone crater that allow rain water to filter through, filling the holes that the meteor created. The roofs and walls of these holes have deteriorated over time, leaving exposed an underground system of caves and sinkholes (cenotes). The one we're about to venture into is a 1.5 km hike, or bike ride, from the entrance where we purchase tickets. We've bought the "whole package" which includes bikes to make the trek to the cenote (tho, we forgo these to walk instead), a go at the zip line that straddles the top of the cenote, and a chance to repel down into the water. Um, can you say "awesome?!"



A guide meets us as we wander into the cenote site. His name is Ramón or Román, Sarah and I can't remember later. He shows us where to change, where to pee and eventually, where to get strapped into harnesses to take on the zip line and to repel. Can I just say, what is better than an outdoor, natural playground, complete with "rides" and swimming, kayaks, and flippers, and (did I mention?) a rope swing that catapults you into the green, foggy water??? What is better than that, my friends? Nothing.

Sarah getting her harness attached for the zip line.

We spend hours frolicking, sharing the pool with, at most, 6 other people. This is what we imagined our whole week would be full of. This is what we'd been anxiously waiting for. Cenote X'Canché did not disappoint. (Side note: several area families opened this site only a few years ago--the repel and zip lines are only 6 months running. So please, tell your friends. Go yourself. They could use your business. And it's fantastic!)

Aaron and Me playing on the rope swing. Sadly I'm hard to detect because my skin is the same color as the pale stone walls. :( Boo, no sun tan.

When our teeth finally start to chatter, and our fingers prune, we hop out and head up to change into clothes. It's easy to find a collectivo at the entrance of the site to take us back to Valladolid. I hop out at our hotel to shower, and then sit by the pool with a good book and a piña colada. Sarah takes Aaron to the Ex-Convento to take a peek. We reunite for a bite of dinner and then head up to bed. Tomorrow we strike out for Cancún to chase the elusive sun and sand.