Onward we go from the forgotten ruins of Uxmal to the all too remembered ruins of Tulum. That’s not to say it isn’t a site to see, only that the ruins would be much better without the hundreds who pack into the small site daily, loaded on tour buses from Cancun and Playa del Carmen.

Enough of that though, we arrived and found a very nice hostel to stay in, which offered excellent amenities which included fairly priced bike rentals. Our first afternoon we decided to take a taxi out to the beach where we would go for a much needed swim to wash our last bus journey off of us. Returning back to the hostel, we settled down for the night and would get up at a reasonable hour to rent some bikes from the hostel and head for the ruins. Upon arrival it became clear that these ruins would be the smallest scale of any we had been to before. It took one an hour or two to adequately see them all, which would have been much shorter if not for the foot traffic. Satisfied by our time spent among the tourists (something gives us backpackers a feeling that “we” are better than “them”), we headed for a nearby beach recommended by locals for some relief.

As promised the beach was vacant other than some locals. We spent the next few hours lounging in the sun, drinking various cocktails of juices and rum, and swimming in the sea. As the pictures show, this beach was still quite close to the ruins, so we were able to look onto the Mayan relics while flopping about in the ocean. Eventually we would decide it was time to go back to our hostel to prepare for our bus journey. Returning back, we packed our things and set out to wait for the bus. It would be another all night journey to San Cristobal, and the best we could hope for was lethargy.

All boredom does come to an end though, and we eventually found ourselves in San Cristobal, a very popular backpacking destination complete with more narrow streets, bars and the best falafel I’ve ever had. Louise was to continue onto Oaxaca that same day, as she was meeting a friend and wanted a night alone to catch up before being titled third wheel to some American she had never met before. During the day Louise and I explored the city, taking in yet another incredibly atmospheric stop on the Mexico backpacking trail. Eventually though it was time for her to board the bus for Oaxaca, and time for me to head back to the hostel for the night. It turned out that some other French backpackers had other plans for me, and after insisting I help them plunder their bottle of mezcal, we set off into the night for some karaoke, live music and additional mezcal shots. Eventually I found my way back to the hostel though, and proceeded immediately to my recovery position, which is flat on my face in bed until something rouses me awake.

The rousing came in the form of my previous days resolve to see the cathedral of nearby San Juan Chamula, a place of great religious sanctity. Inside the church is without any seating or pews, the floor is covered entirely by pine needles, which local families clear in order to offer their sacrifices surrounded by candles, whether they are bottles of Coca-Cola or dead animals (both are common). I did make it there, and was in awe at the religious ceremonies taking place, but with that came the immediate realization that we are infringing on a fundamental part of their culture just by being here, no less by walking about observing them. After a short time in the cathedral my discomfort at being a tourist in a space clearly substantial to the locals overtook me, and I left to walk the local market before getting a bus back (this route was serviced by a fleet of old VW Buses). Photography is strictly prohibited inside the church, but I was able to snap a shot of the facade which I’ve included below.

Returning to San Cristobal, it was now about the time for me to board my bus to Oaxaca as well. I however having a bit more time to spare, decided I would opt for the more adventurous route there. Louise had taken a direct bus to Oaxaca, which was fair enough if you don’t mind spending the extra money. Instead however I had been hearing vague details of route that would first go to Tuxtla Gutierrez, a nearby travel hub, and from there on to Oaxaca. So, I grabbed a bus to Tuxtla and once there did the usual rounds of asking bus attendants and locals the cheapest way to get where I wanted to go. I ended up circling a block quite unnecessarily looking for the correct station, but eventually I was to arrive at the terminal and found that in fact a bus was offered that would save me around $10 over the direct route. Possibly to those endowed with an income this might sound like a laughable savings given the hassle and uncertainty of my option, but for someone with a fixed savings and no plans for employment, it’s useful to save any amount possible, whenever possible. That’s about the end of this story. I boarded the bus that would take me all the way to Oaxaca, where I’ll pick up in my next blog post.