Despite an initial bit of faffing between flights at Frankfurt, we got to Cancun at our scheduled arrival time of 6.30pm. I spent the flight almost finishing the Daily Herald crossword, finishing off Alex Garland’s The Beach (good – recommended) and reading Cheryl Strayed’s Wild (also v good and recommended). Apparently since Christmas I’ve had an urge to read books about geographical journeys … with this journey in mind, I guess. If any of you have any books about travelling to recommend, hit me in the comments please.
We got fed – amongst other things – warm pretzel and schnitzel with potato salad. How very Mexican. We were flying with Condor though who I think are a German tour operator, so the flight was full of Germans. I mean – there were loads of them on there. Loads.
Also, no point in lying, I was – occasionally during the 11 hour flight – a bit apprehensive. What if I couldn’t remember any Spanish? What if we couldn’t work out where we were going? Five months is a long time to be on the hoof too. I’ve travelled a lot and lived abroad before and done a bunch of stuff but never actually been on the move this much. Would I hate it?
All those thoughts disappeared the second we arrived and I stepped off the plane into the sweaty hug of the evening Cancun air. From the airport we caught the ADO bus to downtown Cancun for about 60 pesos each (£3) where the fan assisted oven we’d booked a room in (Mayan Hostel Number One, Margaritas) – was just across the road.
After dumping bags and wiping faces we went for a wander down to a little square nearby lined with foodstalls and with hundreds of Mexican families wandering around. In the centre, kids drove mini electric cars into each other while on some steps nearby a crowd gathered to watch someone teaching a load of kids to do the Gangnam Style dance.
We got food from a stall – empanadas and pulmanares (I think mine were called) with chicken and a couple of drinks for a grand total of 55 pesos altogether. That’s about £1.50 each. And was very very tasty.
The hostel was a bit uriney and our room like sleeping in a fan assisted oven, but I managed to sleep for about nine hours. That is the good thing about being on the move so much. You don’t care where you sleep or even think about it. You just sleep.
The room was 250 pesos for a basic twin (bunkbeds!) – about £6.50 each with a fan, small fridge and shared bathroom. And actually when I woke up this morning and went to the loo I noticed the hostel had been cleaned and smelt more fragrant. Perhaps the pissy smell had been me after all?
To See What Sticks 