Well, it turns out I now have 7 hours to kill in Palenque – a town which, once you’ve seen the famous ruins, doesn’t seem to have a whole lot else going on for it (incidentally, and somewhat peculiarly, it attracts a lot of Israeli tourists and I feel I’ve seen more signs in Hebrew than Spanish here). Therefore, I’m typing this v-e-r-y slowly, sitting by the zocalo in a little street-side restaurant, having just ordered a torta and pineapple ‘agua de fruta’ to help the time pass by. If I schedule the rest of the day right I should be able to pop into an internet café later, upload this and do some e-mailing before catching my bus to Campeche at 9.00pm. If needs be I’ve also got the whole of ‘100 Years Of Solitude’ to get through (to be read before I get to Marquez’s native Colombia) and Carl Rogers ‘On Becoming A Person’ if I’m feeling virtuous (that counsselling book that’s been sitting on my shelf for several years now making me feel lousy for not reading it – perhaps Carl was just waiting for a Mexican transport lull like this to spur me on to start reading his words?).
I left San Cristobal early yesterday morning and had the first ‘Bambabus’ experience that actually tied in with my expectations, which was good. I was picked up in a small mini-van full of about half a dozen other travellers and we set off for Palenque via two beautiful waterfalls – Agua Azul and Misol-Ha, where we were able to stop for a while to admire the scenery, take photos and have a dip. Annoyingly my camera battery suddenly died the moment I tried to take a picture at Agua Azul. However, I got chatting to a very friendly couple called Sarah and Mike all the way from (wait for it…) Camden and they took some pictures that they said they’ll e-mail to me (in fact, we may well even meet up in Belize as it looks like our schedules might overlap there). Therefore, you’ll have to wait for pictures of me at the ruins of Palenque, where we spent the afternoon, but they should be coming shortly...
It was a place worthy of some good snaps, I have to say. Whereas other pyramids and ruins that I’ve seen so far on this trip have felt a bit dusty, dull and dry, the remains of Palenque really were imbued with something mystical. Set amidst emerald coloured grassy hills and tropical vegetation, they were much more appealing than the other sites I’ve seen, and I felt far more inspired to climb up the vast edifices and peer out onto the seemingly endless Yucatan plains. Once again, the flora and temperature in Palenque seemed totally different to where I’d been mere hours beforehand. It was hard to recall my chattering teeth and chills in San Cristobal earlier that morning when I suddenly found myself sweltering in the jungle (a bit of a strip-tease and removal of layers was required in the loos at the waterfall as I had started the day wearing every jumper, cardigan and jacket currently in my possession!)!
The rest of the Bambabus crowd were either travelling on that same night or had accommodation booked up in Palenque town. However, I decided to take the advice of my Rough Guide (my faithful friend and protector now!) and stay at a place called El Panchan – a kind of camp with cabins and bungalows, near to the ruins. Everything I’ve read up on Palenque recommends staying on this slightly New-Agey site rather than in the supposedly dreary town, and I was up for giving it a go. At dusk, when I was dropped off there, walkways had been set up through the foliage with candles to illuminate them,and I noticed signs all around the site advertising vegetarian cafes, meditation and massage. It all looked a bit hippy, but in an appealing kind of way.
Looking back, I think the guy at ‘Ed and Margarita’s Cabanas’- who sold me a cabin that I now realise was massively overpriced - was probably anything but a hippy. With his sculpted rather than straggley goatee and neckful of gold chains he was clearly after tourist cash as opposed to karma! Nevermind, though, I’m quite happy I paid up what was actually all of £13 for a bungalow room with a/c and private bathroom, where I was able to have a really decent and comfortable night’s sleep. I think I may have rather offended the sensibilities of another guy who offered me a cabin for about a quarter of this price. However, I had a peek at it and it looked pretty grim – I decided it has never been an ambition of mine to be a contestant on ‘I’m A Celebrity’, and I didn’t want to share my bed with goodness knows what creepie-crawlies!
I felt a bit anxious last night as there was no internet or phone signal on the camp and, whereas that usually wouldn’t bother me too much, I had loads to sort out in terms of fixing up my next few bus journeys and nights of accommodation (it’s another hostel tomorrow, then hopefully Couchsurfing with a girl called Tamara in Merida). Luckily I think I’ve managed to get that sorted out today though. Last night I just took it easy and had an early night after a beer and some quesadillas at a small restaurant on the camp. There was a lively bar and music on site and I think I could have made a lot more of it had I been in the mood, or had I perhaps been in a group. However, once again, as with the bugs and mosquitos, El Panchan annoyingly seemed to be a breeding ground for the kind of Mexican guy who thinks hissing is a great way of attracting a girl’s attention (this is usually followed by a swift trot to the girl in question’s side and a monologue of questions – ‘what’s your name?’, ‘where do you come from?’, ‘where are you staying?’). Even in the jungle surroundings I wasn’t in the mood for interacting with this particular type of native species, so I opted for keeping my head down and getting back to my bungalow after dinner for an early night and some quality kip.
So today I’ve just been eking out my time in Palenque town, taking count of how quickly time has passed over the last couple of weeks. If I stick to my original plans, I’ll be leaving Mexico in about a week and I must say I feel totally disorientated as far as time is concerned. Cliched as it may sound, leaving London feels like a lifetime ago, and yet it has only been just over 6 weeks. It felt a bit poignant saying goodbye to Mum and Dad again yesterday morning, thinking that I may not see them again until May next year. The hollow homesickness I’ve experienced at certain points recently resurfaced a bit both then and today and, in terms of feelings, it has taken me right back to what I felt at Brownie camp as a kid, or when my parents had their failed attempt to send me to boarding school!
It’s strange that it has hit me in this way as I haven’t lived ‘at home’ (as in with my parents) for about 12 years now. Still, I think this feeling is more than just missing specific people. It is also about missing familiar surroundings and places and the feeling of assurance you generally have when you feel you know what’s on the agenda and what’s round the corner. I suppose if this trip strengthens my appreciation of all I have back home, then that will be something of value. Of course, I want to grow and change through my travels and, of course, I’m still hungry for new experiences. However, I was thinking this morning, I’m not really on a traveller’s quest to ‘find myself’ on top of a Mayan pyramid, nor do I predict any sudden urges to emigrate here. I really do think I’m an English girl at heart and even the reports of rubbish weather and recession back home aren’t quashing that! So I do think I’ll be back (in case anyone was doubting it)... Having said that, though, I’ve noticed with this blog that I tend to contradict a lot of what I write a few days down the line (I’ll write about a complete absence of homesickness, then it will come and plunder me; I’ll rave about how great Mexican buses are, then I’ll have a ‘road to Acapulco’ revelation; I’ll go on about how lovely the people are, then one of them will try to rob me…). I guess I’m quite a contrary soul anyway, but on top of that, with this kind of itinerant life everything changes so swiftly...
Anyway, going back to my parents, there is perhaps a chance that I’ll see them again before too long. My Dad, newly retired and looking for ways to fill his time, actually enjoyed Mexico a lot more than he thought he would, and now says he might want to come to Argentina in the spring, combining Buenos Aires with some fishing (his great passion in life) in Patagonia. I don’t know if it will happen – we’ll have to see. However, whatever pans out, I will certainly have some very good memories of the little holiday we’ve spent together over the past few weeks here in Mexico- both in Acapulco and San Cristobal. In fact, our last day together in San Cristobal on Thursday was a particularly good way to round things off. In the morning, we took a boat trip together along the Canon del Sumidero (part of the Rio Grijalva) and, as the photos hopefully show, this was a great place for bird-watching and nature appreciation in general (crocodiles and a strange riverside rock formation that resembled a Christmas tree were other things we saw apart from vultures, pelicans and owls). Then, in the afternoon Mum and I went off to the ‘peluqeria’ (hairdressers) to bravely get our hair done, Mexican style! The results weren’t too bad (perhaps I got a bit more lopped off than I intended but I guess that means I won’t have to get it done again for ages) and we paid a mere fraction of what we would have done back home (although maybe I would have paid a few pesos more for less of the ammonia smell and more clean towels in the ‘authentic’ little salon). We couldn’t persuade my Dad to get a Mexican ‘bigote’ (moustache) so he left us girls to it, grumbling slightly about our fixations with vanity. However, I argued that it was more of a cultural experience, and an opportunity to practice my Spanish – and I can now somewhat proudly say I have navigated my way through my first hairdo here!
|  | 
|
