January 4, 2018
Day 2: Vancouver to Cancun
The free airport shuttle run by the Accent Inn every half hour around the clock turned out to be a tremendous boon. Looking out from it on the rainy, cold, dark, and fairly busy road at 3 a.m. we could see that while we could have done it on the bikes, it sure would not have been pleasant.
Another advantage of the shuttle was that it allowed us to prepare the bikes for travel at the hotel and not at the airport. Although we allowed three hours between arrival and boarding, that did not turn out to be excessive. Time got eaten up as the Interjet airline staff puzzled over the fact that the bikes were not in boxes, and they went scurrying off looking to borrow some bags from Transat. In the end they agreed that the bikes would be ok (as ok as bikes can be in the meat grinder baggage system) as we had them - with just some foam around the most vulnerable parts. But then, as is always the case, staff was needed to carry from the oversize baggage inspection area to the baggage room. It took about 45 minutes until someone came to do that. Overall though, check-in with this airline that previously we had not known was very pleasant.
Similarly, though this was an extreme budget flight, the aircraft had widely spaced seats, good leg room, and they even offered a free small lunch. Although there was no on board entertainment, there were drop down screens, used for the safety demonstrations. One unusual use of these screens was to put up the view from a front facing camera on the plane. That way we got to see what the pilots saw as we taxied to the runway. And during takeoff there was the disturbing evidence that the plane does not exactly run ruler straight down the strip. I wondered if pilots were manually steering. If yes, they were approximately doing the same as Indy 500 drivers!
Now approaching Cancun we see that the temperature is 24 and looking down, there are few clouds. This is going to be way different from the snow clogged Kinsol Trestle!
The Cancun airport is clean and gorgeous with really nice floor tiles. Everything seems high tech and organized. This must be the kind of airport Trump said the U.S. was lacking, during his election campaign. He needs to send some people down here to see how it's done. That is, if the Mexicans will let them in!
The bicycles survived their naked trip and came out with only one taillight bracket squashed. We were able to quickly set them up and make our way through immigration and customs. Even though we were expecting an intensive screening - with that lottery button where if you press wrong they give you the third degree - there was none of that - only a sympathetic agent who seemed like he could become a Cycleblaze reader.
We were excited to take our first step outside, into the mild tropical air. I said to Dodie "Tell me if you see a tropical plant!". Of course that did not take long, although the place was not quite as floral as I remember it from some past year.
The very next thing to be noticed was the drifts of new, white, VW and Toyota window vans. This is always a thing with me when we are in Europe as well. Vans like that are very scarce in Canada, and it seems unfair for everyone else to have them scattered all over the place. I really only need someone to mail me one. How hard could that be??
Leaving the airport I was impressed by the relatively sedate pace of the traffic, and the fact that it was quite quiet, and therefore less threatening. It's the difference between relatively refined vans and the quite gross giant pickup trucks common at home.
We reached the famous highway 307, famous because we had looked at it so often on Google Maps. It was much as expected - quite busy, so close to Cancun, but generally with a cyclable shoulder.
The Cancun outskirts for the modest 20 km or so from the airport contain mainly auto dealers or auto repair shops, with a few small nurseries thrown in. It's not pretty, but it's not horrible.
We stopped at a gas station to buy water, and Dodie came out with the local equivalent of "chausson pommes" and "pain au chocolate". I thought both were actually superior to the French versions, though Dodie did point out that they were somewhat oily. It was a good start though. There is no doubt that in "North America" it is the Mexicans who have the best grip on good food.
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307 stopped being quite so easy to navigate as we got ever closer to the city. We would think we were clinging to the right, and suddenly there would be two more lanes over there. In other spots, cars turning or exiting would be crossing in front of us, requiring us to twist around to see who might be ready to do a side swipe. Through this, though, the traffic remained both quiet and sedate, and the drivers polite.
We noticed lots of local people standing by the roadway all along, and realized that they were waiting for various "collectivos", privately run busses or vans. Unlike the gleaming VW airport vans, these were beat up, to very beat up. Still, it seemed an effective system. We noticed one fellow with a walkie talkie who apparently was coordinating.
As we passed the people by the roadside, we naturally smiled and nodded quite a bit. And the people generally returned the sentiment. They seemed so sweet. I guess we have so far missed all the rapists and drug dealers.
I did also notice that without exception the people portrayed on the roadside billboards were white. These models were shown studying at the local computer college, buying condos, or trying out cosmetics. But the people at the roadside were all brown. It seemed such a contrast. I don't know if the people accept or even aspire to the billboard stereotypes, or if it bugs them. Most likely, they don't care one way or the other.
The GPS took us to the Hostel Amelie, which we chose on booking.com not least because it has the same name as granddaughter Amelia. As we have come to slightly accept from bitter European experience, the address presented a locked gate and a darkened locked building. I was about ready to see if my Estonian phone felt like calling a number in Mexico, when I spotted a doorbell button. Several pushes eventually raised what turned out to be a nice young woman, pregnant, and with little Amelie by her side.
We waved our booking.com printout, but that did not seem to fizz, at least not right away. However she made a phone call and with the help of cell phone translators we learned that the place was full but that her husband would come and take us to the "other place".
After a while a young man appeared and signalled us to follow. He then took off through the streets of Cancun at about twice the pace we could do. He walked down the middle of the street, on narrow sidewalks, through alleys. I tried to position myself close enough to him so as not to lose him, and close enough to Dodie so as not to lose her. I began to wonder if we were being lead into the deepest heart of Cancun, where maybe we could end by being mugged.
But eventually the man, who we now know to be Raphael, ducked into a doorway and entered an office where he began paging through booking data on two computers. Our mugger seemed to be a pretty good programmer!
Raphael put us with our bikes in a locked courtyard, and us in a good solid tiled room, with bathtub, good plumbing, and lots of space. The price - 960 pesos for two days, breakfast included. And after all that walking, we seem to be just a couple of blocks from the main drag - Tulum Ave. And oh, the wifi is stable and fast!
We had just carried our stuff into the room when a major tropical deluge started outside. We went for a look at it, and so met our neighbours, who turned out to be two young sisters from Narbonne, France. Wow, suddenly somebody we could communicate with.
The girls said they had wanted to go pick up their laundry from presumably a nearby laundromat, but now were stymied by the rain. So we put one of them into my Patagonia parka. Way too big, but effective.
Meanwhile I nipped around the corner to a restaurant Raphael had mentioned. I asked for fajitas, one of only two Mexican dishes I actually know. But the waiter indicated they did not have that. I managed to say how about anything with chicken, and I ended with Poc Chuk - chicken version.
"Poc chuc is a Mexican dish of meat, commonly pork, that is prepared in citrus marinade and cooked over a grill. Poc chuc is often served with a side of rice, pickled onion, refried beans, and avocado. Poc chuc is one of the signature dishes of the Yucatán." (Wikipedia)
I had been commissioned to find something for me and for Dodie. but the restaurant had only enough left for one poc chuc. They had lots of other stuff, but I did not have the language or the courage to explore it. As it happened, one was enough for us both.
Tomorrow is a day we reserved for exploring Cancun city. There are quite a few markets around, and we love that. And now that I am an old hand at the restaurant around the corner, maybe we will go conservative and dine there. But we also saw many sidewalk vendors of good looking stuff, and many other small restaurants. It will surely be fun. And if not, we also know where the Walmart is!
Today's ride: 23 km (14 miles)
Total: 61 km (38 miles)
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