Day 4: Cancun to Puerto Morelos

January 7, 2018

Rather than wait for the weak breakfast of white bread toast and jam offered at Amelie at 8, we got up at 6:15 and were ready to go at 7. We had a bit of a surprise when we noticed that another resident who had left even earlier had left the courtyard where the bikes were stored unlocked. However we had used our bike locks and so came out of it ok. We will need to be checking on just how secure the secure storage promised by properties really is.

Though we were ready, the sun was not. But we sleazed on over to the OXXO and picked up some lukewarm coffee and actually fairly credible rice pudding, eating it in the parking lot while watching the sky. At 7:30 all systems were go and off we went.

The fact is, though, that maybe we were not going to be ready to go. The cold that I had been fighting since leaving Vancouver had worsened dramatically in the night. And outside OXXO I was coughing up brown slime. Worse, my strength was just tanking. We had images of trying to scare up a doctor in this town, and getting a prescription for antibiotics. On the road, once we see the brown slime we lay on the antibiotics. There is no leeway out on the highway to wait and see if the patient is going to recover naturally, or simply collapse.

We were surprised to find an open pharmacy at 7:30 on a Sunday morning, just down the street. The pharmacist, who spoke no English, listened to Dodie's account of the problem. Dodie used key phrases from the Berlitz "Spanish for Travellers", and had to absorb words like manana, noce, 12 horas, and so forth from the pharmacist. Surprisingly, and so unlike Canada and the U.S., the pharmacist offered Dodie a wide selection of antibiotics, like a buffet. Dodie chose Amoxicillin, a name she knows well from ear and chest infections in kids.

This same darn illness and fix happened to me in Florida a few trips ago, and the cost was 1/2 day and $US 300. The cost here was 15 minutes and 55 pesos which is $US 2.88.

We jammed the first tablet into me and levered me back onto the bike. Even though the drug can not work that fast, if in this case it works at all, the placebo effect was enough to send me down the road.

Rather than battle our way back down 307 close to town, we had scoped out a back way around the airport. It's called Ave Huayacan, and it is a broad empty road with an official bikeway down the middle for about 15 km:

Huayacan is not a short cut but still is a great way to avoid traffic on 307

This gave us a pleasant boost on our way, in terms of quiet riding. We also enjoyed seeing some other day riders on the path, and without exception we were greeted with buenas dias, or at least hola. One man stopped to talk - he was from Ontario and was just buzzing out 60 kms and back from Playa del Carmen to start his day off. Needless to say he had an ultralite bike, and I noted he carried not two, but just one banana and a water bottle on board.

Along our way, we noted one or two oddities. One was an about four foot long dead green snake. Bill Shaneyfelt, any idea what it was?

We also saw efforts by the state to beautify the highway, with concrete statues of fish, shells, and other aquatic themes.

In our limited travels in Latin America we have been struck by the number of plastic water bottles used, and the way these end up in the water and by the roadsides. It's distressing. But here up ahead was a truck clearly doing a big job of recycling!

It's a short but great bike path to/from Cancun airport

The separated bike path does not go all the way, but this is still good cycling

At least some of the plastic bottles are apparently getting recycled

307 beyond the airport is an acceptable route. The prevalence of vans and cars rather than trucks makes it relatively quiet.

With amazing swiftness for us, ie long before noon, we found ourselves in Puerto Morelos. Puerto Morelos is in two parts - a section by the highway, clearly housing mostly local people, and a bit by the beach, mainly set up for the tourists.

We can tell you something, Puerto Morelos - either section - is not (say) Eltville (Germany):

Rather it looks more like this:

Now that is not necessarily a criticism. Small (and medium) Mexican towns have a charming air of helter skelter tumbledownedness.The buildings are often crudely made from poured concrete, and have other uses than for living in, such as for repairing cars and motorcycles, boiling up corn in rusty vats, and just generally hanging out. This is partly an adaptation to the climate. Since it is generally warm, there is no need to seal buildings tight, to add triple paned windows, and all that. And you can hang out in front and enjoy yourself in any season of the year.

But there is also a magic secret here. If you take the same crumbly concrete and add some nice tiles, and especially some Bougainvillea or other flowering shrubs and plants, then suddenly you get a little tropical garden paradise. With the help of our gps we located the guesthouse we had booked last night on booking.com.

A Mayan themed wall decoration at Buenas Dias

We did also find some small real geckos on a wall here

Mini paradise or not, we could not at first find anyone to receive us. This is the perennial problem with places that are not full fledged hotels. However we did soon come across a Swiss couple who were heading out with borrowed bikes from the supply beside the building. They told us they had found the same thing when they came yesterday, and just put their stuff into an available room. one with the key in the door. We did that too, with the quasi approval of another lady, who must have been a cleaner or other assistant. There was no English, of course, in our discourse with her, and precious little Spanish.

I had been drinking even more water than usual in an effort to help me feel better, and now I was looking for a toilet. I remembered Rick Steve's advice - don't say "So do you folks happen to have an available restroom I could visit pretty darn quick?" but rather "toilet?". I tried that and got a totally blank look. I glanced over at Dodie, "In this Catholic country I am not about to give a graphic demonstration of what I am talking about!". Fortunately a light went on for the lady before the pants came down for me. Baño! she exclaimed - right in here.

Suitably relieved we headed to the beach. Down at the water we found a beautiful beach scene, with a small square and many small restaurants, two docks, and lots of moored boats. The beach itself is clean and sandy and stretches away far up and down this Mayan Riviera coast. The other big feature was another gazillion craft vendors, all with more or less the same stuff, and all of it really nice. Contrary to what we had read in guidebooks, these vendors were neither more nor less insistent than their comrades in the other towns. But how do they all survive?

We chose a restaurant the had a possibility of being more costly than others, because of a central beach location. But we know now what things we like and what they should cost, and were able to navigate through the menu without going broke. I was thinking that since we had chosen some of the lower price-tag items we might get a skimpy presentation. But no, there was a full complement of tortilla chips and refried beans, chopped onions, tortillas, and well prepared fajitas and quesidillas. And of course, we were right on the beach.

One of the attractions of the beach were several vendors with good looking food stuff. There was a man with cut up pineapple and watermelon, arranged in a sticklike way, some one with a large basket of cake or candybar like treats, and some of those Indian women, usually very short, and loaded down with multicoloured threads and change purses and shawls, in what I see as the Guatemalan style. After being dressed in and carrying these colour combinations, they must have seeped deeply into the women's souls by now. It could be a very colourful place inside their heads!

My image of the inside headspace of the little embroidery ladies

Puerto Morelos is sleepy enough that people and bikes can wander the middle of streets freely

I approached the man with the basket of sweets. As you know, I am now an expert on baskets of sweets, after one day of research yesterday. Plus I had my special bargaining technique online. "How much? (quanto cuesta)" I asked , and got the reply "trente"."No no, these are supposed to be veinte", I protested. "Ok, veinte" was the reply. Now strangely, two other tourists came up at the same time, and were told "trente", even as I was handing over my "veinte". They coughed up right away. Silly tourists, not like me, the pro! (Of course you will recognize that the true true price is likely 10 or 15, but these were really a cut above the OXXO dreck.)

Two other episodes of Mexican bargaining happened to us down at the beach. In the first one, at the "swanky" beach restaurant, they were demanding 5 pesos to use the bano. I waited and later found a much nicer location out by the mangroves down the road a ways. But I thought they were being rather petty. Next the waiter brought our bill, la cuenta. It came in a little billfold and in handing it to me the man took pains to explain first in Spanish and then in response to my blank look in English, "it does not include the tip". "Sure, nice to know" I thought. The man then stood by me, rather dog like, as I put my exact change into the billfold. I handed it to him and he immediately opened it, fixing me with a look of pure exasperation and disgust. I think I don't mind paying somewhat inflated tourist prices, and we buy our share of souvenir junk, but I don't like feeling overtly shaken down.

In the third episode, Dodie has fixed her eye on something in that embroidered Guatemalan style, and she is thinking of getting a pile of them, for various kids. So a little research was in order. We approached one vendor, and got a price of 250 pesos each. Next one - also 250. Third one, 250, but as we prepared to move on, since we are not buying or bargaining today, his price quickly went to 200. And when we said we needed to first cycle around the Yucatan peninsula, but would be back, he promised an even more special price then. And we did not even tell him we would be after a whole pile of them. I think if you have even a small inkling of what you are doing, this way of shopping could be fun.

Back at the guesthouse, the owners Eva and Bernardo had returned. They showed that they had planned a much bigger room for us than the one we had grabbed. But to us, the small room was big, so we just stuck. We have not yet quite gotten over comparing everything to our tent.

Bernardo noticed that we have "very special bikes", and though he firmly vouched for the safety of the neighbourhood, he took them and stashed them safely in the back. Bernardo is from Columbia and has the ambition of cycling from here to there, but he needs someone to do it with him. Any takers?

With our apparent amazing speed, we will roll into Playa del Carmen really early tomorrow (in fact we could have easily been there today). Our plan is to grab a guesthouse and then hop on the ferry to Cozumel. We think we could tour Cozumel and be back in Playa in good time.

Cozumel is the offshore island made famous by Jacques Cousteau in the 1960's. It has a great diving reef, an extension of the one by Joni's island in Belize. Cousteau or not, we will probably just cycle around, and see if the craft vendors want to beat that 150 euro price!

Today's ride: 56 km (35 miles)
Total: 117 km (73 miles)

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