Week Three - Playa, Cancun, Merida, Campeche MEXIC

Trip Start Apr 10, 2005
1
6
12
Trip End Jul 09, 2005


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Tuesday, May 3, 2005

Another week, another finely tuned group email for yous guys to drool over...so this is installment number 3 is it? Fine, ill take you along on my rollercoaster ride of dizzy highs and equally dizzy lows yet again...
After 3 weeks or so lazing around in the same place, i am finally rolling on my journey and have moved off, despite screwing up my schedule by staying 6 extra days. Most people id met had begun departing in the following week since my last email, which kinda sucked, and I also got kicked out of my awesome rooftop penthouse, and had to move in with a girl i met in a creaky wooden 'hotel' halfway across town called maya de carmen, but hey, i wasnt complaining. The beach was still there, and a lot of stereotypical sasha sleeping (sss) was done that week, getting up a balmy 1 or 2, thoroughly deserved, of course, after 2 weeks getting up at 9am. Nothing significant really happened that week, or if it did i dont remember leave me alone ill tell you later in 5 minutes shush. Anyway, on Friday we all managed to get off our asses and go to Cancun to party, except that most people we were meant to go there with got lost along the way and I havent seen them since...weird...But I went with my girl, lets call her D, and no relation to Jehungry, and we met up with Katja and some Mexican breres we encountered in Playa. One of them, Juan Carlos, drove us to this club where the rest of his crew were, but let me point out that this so called 'driving', was done after ol' Juan had consumed a bottle of Bacardi, funnily enough some Guiness, a Modelo Negro, and a few tequilas, the latter three in our prescence, and with a random concoction of music blaring on the 30 minute ride to the hotel district of Cancun, which looks exactly like Vegas, except louder, apparently. Hmm. We spent the night in a place called Carlos and Charlies, with lots of yanks being yanks, except us, and Juans friends, who are without a doubt the biggest classes I have encountered so far. In Mexico that is. Im pretty sure they were pretty high on drugs at the time, or else theyre just plain weird. The next day, forced by seņorita D, we departed for Merida at 8am, since it was 6 hours away and we didnt want to arrive in the evening. Sasha was not too happy about this idea, but what could he do? eh? nothing i tells you. Merida was in the next state, Yucatan, after Quintana Roo, where Playa and Cancun were. Merida was a colonial town inland, so no beach anymore goddamit, with the oldest catholic church in mexico. Merida was built around a big Plaza in the centre. Merida was about 45 degrees. No kidding. So, despite a single venture outside meaning your clothes for the day were pretty much soaked, we nevertheless obliged by exploring it. Everything further than 4 or 5 blocks from the Plaza, was pretty much ghetto, I have to say. We made the mistake of looking for the local market, but upon locating it, discovered that this maket produced such a large array of abominable odours and throng of repulsive spilled lliquids on the floor that...well there is no conclusion to be drawn...it was gross. Sunday we decided to ditch that party and head up to the beach, because beach is best. Best is beach. Beachbest. Bestbeach. Ok, concentrate...yeah, it was called Progresso, on the Gulf of Mexico, and we were the only 'white' people there. I decided to try some sharkmeat...which was pretty unchewable, and then some heart-attack-inducing fried shrimp fried in cheese and wrapped in bacon, and probably fried again. Why not. For good measure. Today sucked. I had to split from D, taking a bus west to Campeche, while she took one east back to Cancun, to go back to LA. I was bummed, you may imagine. But then I saw something shiny and forgot all about it. The bus ride here was 2 hours, im staying in a place called Monkey Hotel, and, despite being all excited expecting a treehouse with little hammocks and monkeys with trays bringing me drinks and crap...it was just a name. Outrageous, I know. False advertising. But anyway my room is pretty much a prison cell with no windows. I talked to some hyperactive canadian triplet from quebec for two hours about skydiving, though. Then I walked around the town trying to find some food and couldnt find a single open cafe, so had to settle for Sabritas, which is what they call Lays, which is what we call Walkers. Theyre crisps for gods sake. Ok, I think i need to sleep because im starting to talk crap now. And my warden said i was only allowed an hour of exercise, which ive wasted on all of you, it seems... More photos to come soon, by the way, so check in a few days.
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