Mexio: Hanging in Isla

I've discovered that blog entries are much easier to do when you are doing nothing. My days in Isla Mujeres were filled. Filled with things like chatting to Moses the Texan, who owns the book exchange in the purple house, enjoying the '50 pesos for 2' margaritas at the beach (13 pesos to the dollar mind you), turning brown, eating hummus and pita bread at Manana (owned, as I was often told, by an Italian Jew - I don't think anyone knew there was such a thing). I also put in a considerable amount of time at hostel, talking to people, reading, eating, and taking advantage of the free wi-fi.












Another really important activity was getting lost. The tourist area in Isla is tiny, yet I managed to get confused nearly every day. I think I tend to orient myself to the water. So, if I am facing the water, that restaurant is on the left, and the hostel is behind me. On Isla Mujeres, I was staying at the top end, and there was water on three sides, which was disorienting.

Add the fact that most of the shops are souvenir shops and pretty much look alike, and I get to demonstrate repeatedly that I am truly directionally challenged.

Mexico: Isla Mujeres At Last

When I got to Isla Mujeres, all I wanted to do was sleep, and all I did was sleep. I didn't even want to eat. I'd had a bad getaway from the US, and had been awake for close to forty hours when I stumbled out of the shower and into my dorm bed.

Of course I didn't get packed when I thought I would, so it was well after dark when I stopped at the gas station just a few doors down from the place where I store my car. I went inside to ask if I could put a small bag of trash in their dumpster, and to look up the number of a taxi company. I mentioned where I was leaving my car, and that I thought I'd walk back and call a taxi from their place.

The husband and wife who staff the place were horrified. They pointed out the two cop cars sitting at one of their exits, noses pointed out to 34th street. I had assumed they were looking for speeders and people jumping red lights. Uh, uh. The couple had called the police because they had seen a man holding a gun, running down the street chasing another man.












I made an instant revision to my plan and called the taxi to pick me up from my car, right there in the lot.

Between that and my 3 am wake up call for my 3:45 am shuttle for my 6 am flight, I got no sleep at all. I didn't nap on the flight to Atlanta. I got about fifteen minutes on the flight to Cancun, which had been delayed an hour. Then there was the long shuttle bus ride, and the wait for the ferry.

I knew I wasn't going to be able to walk with my pack, so I hired a guy with a bicycle cart to haul the bag. I followed him for a while. He had to walk the bike, because I was so slow he couldn't get up enough momentum to keep going. Finally, I was so tired I climbed in the cart and rode with my bags.















Then at last, cleanliness and sleep. I arrived on Thursday. I didn't get to the beach until Saturday.