This story told by:
Ned Opdyke
nedopdyke@gmail.com
All copyright laws in place 11/10/05
OTHER STORIES BY THIS AUTHOR
The Gospel According To Ned - 1989
The Return of the Gospel According to Ned, Part II - 1990
Please Allow Me To Introduce My Selves - 2008
From Here To There And Back Again - 2009
I Love Texas - 2009
Sometimes You Find the Love In The Most Unexpected Places - 2009
California Is My Home (But I Still Love Texas) - 2009
The Last Adventure........... (of 2009)
Chapter 1
My name is Ned Opdyke and this my story about the adventure I had with my (now ex) girlfriend, and is very short compared to what really happened. I didn’t take any notes along the way, and therefore this story only includes some of the highlights that she and I can remember. I have taken zero liberties with embellishment/ exaggeration/ etc. There is no need. What you read in these pages, whether you choose to believe it or not, is the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I hope you enjoy it.
Sunday 10/16/05
Noon - We left Aptos and drove my truck up the coast on Hwy 1, to San Francisco. We arrived at our hotel, the Comfort Suites, in South SF around 4pm. We lounged in our room for about an hour and then went out to a cute Mexican Restaurant with really good tasting food. We were back in our room asleep by around 9pm.
Monday 10/17
We woke up at 3am and were in the shuttle to the airport at 4am. Our flight left, on schedule, at 6am, and we watched the moon set over the Golden Gate Bridge. Very cool way to start our trip. Very romantic. Very beautiful.
After our transfer in Dallas we arrived in Cancun at about 4pm. Let the games begin...
There are 3 States in the area called The Yucatan Peninsula; Quintana Roo; Yucatan; and Campeche.
We didn’t check any luggage, so we went directly outside and took our first of many (too many to count) taxi rides, about 50 miles south to our All-Inclusive Resort Hotel named Viva Windham Azteca, and settled into our room around 6pm. We took a short walk to the Taco Bar by the pool and the ocean, and had a couple (that means two) drinks and a light dinner.
In bed asleep by around 10pm. Neither my girlfriend nor I are night owls, in fact we’re both morning people, so that works out great in any environment, but especially on a trip like this, when you have only so much time to do so many things.
Little did we know at that time that we were soon going to be faced with a whole lot of time, with nothing to do at all.
Tuesday 10/18
We agreed that our first day was to be devoted to enjoying the benefits of our all-inclusive resort. We cannot remember doing anything else on this day besides eating, drinking, swimming in the ocean & pool, and mostly, lounging in the sun… yes, with sunscreen. We were not going to start our vacation by getting a sunburn. We were in our room by around 8pm, and asleep by around 10pm.
Wednesday 10/19
I got up around 6am - found some coffee - and walked around the hotel grounds and beach, until sunrise at 6:47am. Sunrises (and sunsets for that matter) have always been very important to me. I love to look at the sun, carefully… with nothing but love in my heart, for minutes at a time.
I learned the basic technique from my parents (Jack & Celia Opdyke) and my sister (Jacklynn Lord), years ago and know how dangerous it can be. I only do it occasionally, when I’m sure that my attitude is correct for it. I’m still learning the techniques.
Donna is up and at ’em, gorgeous like a movie star as usual, and we have breakfast at 8am. At 9am, we’re in our 2nd taxi ride, going another +/- 50 miles south to Tulum and the Ruinas on Mexico's Caribbean Coast. We hung out there… took about 30 pictures, and were back at our resort by around noon.
We had plenty of time to go: (1) snorkeling, (2) swimming with dolphins, (3) parasailing, (4) pyramid climbing, (5) And whatever else we wanted to do, so... we decided to finish off our 2nd full day in Playa del Carmen, the town of about 5,000 local residents, by lounging by the pool and ocean and eating and drinking. At least we thought we had plenty of time…
Thursday 10/20
I'm up at 6:30am for another sunrise over the ocean. It's nice for me… I only watch sunsets where I live. The clouds were fairly thick, but at 7:45am the sun came through a small opening and was visible as a pale yellow full ball for about two or three minutes. That’s about a perfect amount of time for my eyes to view the sun… to accept its light and love.
I grew up in La Selva Beach, a small community without sidewalks or streetlights on the coast of the Monterey Bay, between Santa Cruz at the north end and Monterey at the south. The house I lived in was one block from the ocean, the first house to have electricity in it, when the pueblo was developed in the 30's.
My best, honest, low-end estimate of the number of sunsets I've viewed from the cliffs there is 1,000. I have always felt a very strong spiritual energy from the sun and had the opportunity as a young man to learn some of the basic techniques of viewing it. I now live in Aptos, only two or three miles from La Selva, so I still get to go back to the cliffs easily and often. It is most definitely my favorite place in the world.
Sunset from Cliffs at La Selva Beach, CA
I brought my girlfriend her coffee around 8am and then we went back to the pool and the ocean and lounged until about 10, when we decided to try our luck at boogie boarding. Even with the storm only hours away, the waves weren’t any bigger than a normal day at La Selva, so we simply walked out past them and floated for a while. The wind and current became strong only a few minutes after we got out there, so we didn’t have much time to relax, 'cuz we realized that if we didn’t paddle and stroke with some effort, we would end up about 10 miles south and have a long walk back to our towels, lounge chairs, food, and cocktails.
Around 2pm we decided to talk to the guest services rep at our hotel to get the current information on the size and direction of Wilma, THE Hurricane of the ‘05 season, which established 5 different records since they started keeping them 150 years ago.
(1) The most numbered/ named; (2) The one with the lowest barometric pressure; (3) The one with the highest wind speed; (4) The one which intensified the fastest, and which we didn’t find out until after; (5) The one who’s eye decided to stop moving for the longest duration. Poor Cozumel.
Preparing for Wilma's wrath at the Azteca
The rep told us to pack our luggage and meet with all the other guests in the main lobby to be put in groups of six, and escorted back into individual rooms that had been deemed safe. The rooms weren’t small, but they weren’t big either, and my first thought was of claustrophobia, which I suffer from, not from confined spaces, but from being around a lot of people. Not that I’m not a people person. Those of you who know me, know that for the most part, I truly enjoy people and their company. I’m usually a very social animal, some say mas too mas.
At 4pm we went to the lobby and were told that there had been a minor change and that we would be taken to the Viva Windham Maya, the Azteca’s twin hotel, and put in the rooms there. When we got off the bus at the Maya, the wind was probably about 40mph gusting to 50, and the rain was starting to fall lightly.
They told us to go into this concrete building, a big empty room about 150 feet long, 50 feet wide, with a ceiling at about 20 feet. I asked if I could wait outside, and feel the wind and rain, but they said no, because we would be put in groups and taken to our rooms. When I stepped over the 18” concrete block wall that they had built to help keep the water out and stepped into the room, I stopped. My blood pressure jumped from it’s normal of about 150 over 100, to something like 175 over 110, instantly. There must have been at least 200 people in this room, with at least another 40 people behind me, waiting to get in.
I asked again, pleaded actually, to allow me to wait outside for my group to come out for me. They didn’t physically force me in, but one of them calmly said, "Don’t worry, the manager is just about ready to address the group, and you won't be in here very long." After about 30 minutes the hombre got our attention and told us to find a pillow, blanket, and a pad and find a place on the floor. The door to the room closed. This was 5pm on Thursday, October 20th, 2005. I could feel my blood pressure rise to about 200 over 130.
My girlfriend looked at me and I could see concern, not so much for the situation, but for me. She knows me as well as anyone else on this planet and I know her. I could see in her eyes that she saw what was going on inside me. I’ve always had high blood pressure. I found out in high school, when I did PE, and played on the basketball team. I have also tried to be in tune with my body and have tried to listen to it. It has basically treated me very well and although I have abused it in some ways, I have also respected it, and tried to take good care of it. Strong mind, strong body, right? As living things, need both.
At about 6pm I felt a bit queasy and light-headed. I could tell my blood pressure was doing nothing except getting higher. Understand, I was not afraid of the hurricane… I could tell this building was safe. I was afraid because I could feel my claustrophobia getting out of control.
I knew at this time I didn’t want to go outside. It would’ve been a fist-fight to get the door open and then death, from the winds & debris most certainly. So I asked the manager if there was a doctor in the house. I wanted something like Valium, and lots of it. He pointed to an Italian gentleman in the corner, and I went, stepping between people, as carefully yet as quickly as I could. He was sitting when I got to him, so as I approached I got down on all fours and crawled up to him. When I got close enough for him to see that I was waiting for his attention, I introduced myself.
Luigi esta un hombre muy guapo, a very handsome man. Turned out he wasn’t a doctor, but a nurse. A very charming male nurse. Before I even told him what I wanted, no… what I needed… I could feel my pressure stop elevating.
I felt safer being near him. He was about 30 years old, obviously took good care of himself physically, and had a genuine tender strength in his eyes.
I explained my situation and request and he cocked his head to one side, pursed his lips, and then reached for a small fanny bag on his waist. He carefully dumped out its contents and looked for an appropriate pill.
It didn’t take him long until he shrugged his shoulders and told me that he didn’t have what I needed. He could tell that this wasn’t a matter of minor concern. Perhaps the veins in my head or neck were bulging, but I prefer to think he saw the importance in my eyes.
I said, "Do you know where the doctor is?" and he said, "Yes, wait here." I waited, but I did not let my eyes off of him… not for an instant. He disappeared into a very small... maybe 5 foot by 20 foot side room, and came out with another olive skinned gentleman... actually more brown. I think maybe of Hispanic roots.
As my eyes watched this other guy, I could see that he had become distracted by something or someone else, and was not coming towards me. I carefully got to my feet and began my first of many treks across the sea of people.
I was able to get to him before he found whatever else he was looking for and was able to convey my need to him. He said to wait right where I was standing and that he would be back shortly. I’m guessing he was away for about five minutes, but it seemed like 50.
When he came back he gave me four of what he said were Zanax, and said each of them was similar to about 15 milligrams of Valium. He said to take two now and then take two more in about 24 hours.
I said thank you, but that my understanding was that we were to be released from our prison in only about 12 hours. He looked at me intensely and sadly, and said, "No, we aren’t gonna get out for at least 24 or 36 hours."
I gobbled the two pills, carefully stored the other two, and asked that he save me two more, in case I became accustomed to their effects and needed more. He reassuringly said, "Absolutemente, no problemo."
So now it was about 7pm, and I could feel my pressure rising because of the news of the length of our internment, and falling because I had some medication in my system. Oh, I almost forgot, the doctor was of local heritage, and his name was Christian. "Good name", I said to him and showed him the hemophite cross I always wear, courtesy of a gift from my God son, Lucas Grams.
My mother, who was 50% Mayan Indian and 50% Sonoran Indian, had always told me, "Ned, go to The Yucatan." She’d say many times over my life, "Ned, go to the Yucatan. The area is geographically beautiful, the history is deep and rich, but mostly Ned, go there because of the people." She was correcto. The people are quiet, sensitive, polite, generous, humorous, strong, gentle, and all the other attributes that in my opinion, all human beings should strive for.
Now Thursday evening, maybe 8-ish, and our plus or minus 300 roommates are slowly settling down for the night. We are told that Wilma's eye was expected to be very near or perhaps even directly over us, sometime between midnight and 2am, which was Friday, October 21, 2005, what would have been my father’s 90th birthday. I don’t remember mentioning before… he joined my mom in heaven in August of ‘04.
The staff passed out chips and tuna sandwiches, and as much water as we wanted. I asked for one bottle and they gave me three.
Throughout our entire stay, the staff was absolutely a marvel of calm and friendly attitude, and constant willingness to happily help with whatever anyone requested of them. Except when it became necessary to clarify to some of the confused guests, that it was not possible to go outside.
Our first of three nights in our shelter… what I’ve coined an 'above ground bunker', was very quiet and peaceful. Which was truly amazing… with 300 people lying on the floor of this room, there was not enough room for anyone to even straighten their legs. Everyone slept and rested in fetal positions.
I found out later that the eye was within 10~20 miles of us, for about 7 hours. Most hurricanes don't stay in one place that long. Remember, as I mentioned earlier… Wilma was not a typical hurricane.
Friday 10/21
I rose at about 6am and was very happy to be able to find hot coffee available. The remaining duration of our first full day in our bunker passed amazingly quickly for me. Because I spent it alone, I was able to go into my little happy place, and meditate quietly. My girlfriend was next to me for 99% of the time, but I could not communicate very well… to her or to anyone else. I needed to be in my shell.
I felt extremely out of sorts… I am a type B personality, but am also very much of an anal-retentive control freak. I have always been more comfortable when I have control over my surroundings. Now, not only was I stressed out about the closeness of so many people, but moreso because there was nothing I could do about it.
Fortunately, most of the 300 of our newest closest friends wanted to gather in small groups, and socialize... talking, trying to laugh and joke, and make the best of a very bad situation. Let me say right now, before I get back to me, that I was 99.9% impressed with the behavior of every single person in that hole, our above ground bunker. I only heard one person, I think it was Luigi, raise his voice in anger. And I know it wasn’t really anger, it was frustration. I think he suffered emotionally from being in a position of no control, just like me.
When it was time to move the folding tables and chairs into position to eat a meal, 99% of the inmates would jump. Sometimes they actually gently grabbed things out of other people's hands, in an effort to do something to help. Meanwhile, I’m sitting in a folding chair, leaning back against the concrete wall, with my feet and legs up on another folding chair facing me, in as much of a reclining position as I could, watching what was happening around me. I was a quivering piece of goo for at least eight consecutive hours…
Evening came with more tuna and chips, and then it was time to go into our fetal positions again. My girlfriend’s preference, as was mine, was to be in the corner of the room, so that we had a wall next to us on one side instead of people. The other good thing about this location was that when people had to get up at night, and go to the bathroom… we didn’t have them walking over us.
The bad news about our location was that when we had to use the facilities, which was possible only by permission in small groups, was that we had to carefully tip toe thru, around, and over about 75 people. For some reason, in the soft light and the warm 80-degree temperature almost everyone was under blankets! If I had been in a location where people had to walk over me, I would’ve had all my appendages (well, at least 4 of them) exposed, so as to be seen and less likely to be stepped on.
I hope you can visualize the difficulty of going to the bathroom, or simply trying to stretch our muscles and joints. I remember taking what seemed to be half an hour, getting from point A to point B. For one reason because I wanted to avoid hurting anyone (or myself) by falling or twisting an ankle or knee; and for another reason so that I could do something else other than sit or lay in a fetal position… with my feet in someone’s face and another person’s feet in my face.
Unbelievably, I never noticed or heard anyone verbalizing their frustration about the conditions. It was in my opinion, a blessing to witness such a wonderful example of the human spirit. Maybe it was the clear understanding that things could potentially escalate into violent chaos, if cooperation was not the major consideration. It was to me, a perfect example of people acting like human beings. It makes me cry, I am so happy to have been a part of that experience. Strange but true.
There was always a very real chance that war could break out at any moment, but it never did. Peace prevailed. I’m crying I’m so happy and grateful for hurricane Wilma, to give me the opportunity to witness that. I want to thank every single one of my newest 300 closest friends, for giving me that hope. Thank you.
Saturday 10/22
Up at 6am - coffee and a connection on the Internet. Amazing. There were phone lines operational. Or perhaps it was wireless, I didn’t think to ask. The staff told us the electricity was coming from a gas-powered generator.
The power kept us cooled to about 80 degrees and very well-lighted for about 22 hours at a time, then the generator had to be shut down to cool off for two hours, at which time they used huge flashlights to help keep any panic away from the people who were afraid of the dark. The temperature in that two hours would go up to about 100, but within 30 minutes or so, would be back to around 80.
At 1pm, 44 hours after they had locked us in, they opened the doors to the outside, and let us go outside in groups of about 20 to breath fresh air… look at the wind… and smoke. The rain was falling so heavily, if you were to try to stand in it, you would likely drown, standing up.
It was at this time I really noticed how everyone was continuing to be so freaking calm. It was a very surrealistic example of happiness, and it greatly helped with my blood pressure… feeling their good ju-ju.
Now, I must talk about Luigi again. Not his good looks this time, but about his passion. Latin people are known for their passion. I know… I am one, and I have it. Well, along with Luigi, there were about 100 other very passionate Italian men and women.
Some of the English and German tourists did not appreciate their passion, but I did. One time, during one of the blackouts, a group of them broke into song. It was very uplifting for me. My girlfriend didn’t like it as much as I, but for me... it was… a perfect example of the human spirit to survive, to make the best of life, and to try and enjoy every moment of it.
I remember trying to think of a song I could sing that would be known to some other people and would have been appropriate, but could only come up with Silent Night and I didn’t have the guts.
The staff… bless their hearts, could see that there were actually many more people not enjoying the Italians than enjoying them. The staff was somehow able to find another bunker for them. I was grateful for the additional space between people, but was sad to see them and their passion, leave.
At about 6pm the tables went back up and oh, I forgot to tell you… the previous night (our second night), the water came into the room and eventually reached a depth of about two inches. The tables were used with their legs folded in, as platforms for us to lay on to stay dry. This was good for that purpose, but made the adventure of walking over, and around the appendages, much more difficult.
The hard plastic was slippery, and the tables weren't spaced evenly apart, so it was like a bizarre obstacle course. I didn’t want to wear my hard rubber soled sandals, because I didn’t want to hurt, or maybe even break someone's fingers, or toes, and that made the trek across the room even more difficult.
So now… about 50 hours after our sentence was imposed on us, we had a hot meal and it was very good. Sautéed chicken breasts… two of them, with pasta and rice, which was a very generous serving even for people like me, who are used to eating big meals. That was great, but even better… they brought out enough red wine and cerveza beer for everyone to have two or three glasses.
Fortunately for my girlfriend I didn’t want any. I wanted to wait until I could have about 20 beers and 20 shots of tequila, so she was able to have my portion, which she admitted later, was very beneficial for her attitude.
I tease her unmercifully. In many ways, I feel sorry for her. I inflict such a bizarre sense of humor on her. I try to explain to her, like I do to other people I care about, that you can always tell how much I like you, by how much I tease you. It is one of the several aspects of my personality that I am still and probably always will, try to adjust and modify.
8pm - Tables and chairs folded, and moved into positions for the 3rd night of slip and slide.
9pm - Everyone calmly accepts their positions for the night’s sleep and rest. Now however, there is enough room to straighten our legs. Whew.
Sunday 10/23
Up at 6am - as I was drinking my first cup of coffee I was told that the Wilma had moved far enough away from us that we could go outside and… yoo hoo!!... a shower. A cold shower, but very appreciated. Especially to my girlfriend and the other 200 of our friends in the bunker. I still smelled bad after my allotted 10 minutes in the shower, but at least it didn’t make me nauseous. I can only guess what I smelled like to other people. Not good, would be an understatement to the extreme. After putting my clothes back on, I took my camera for a walk to assess the damage and to look at the ocean.
I am in awe of the destruction. Not so much of what has been blown down or away, but of how much is still standing. Sure, there’s fallen trees, broken glass, roofing tiles, etc etc etc, lying in my path, but as I was told later, in about five or six months, the 'lazy Mexicans' were gonna have everything as it was. Mexicans are not lazy… it's that we're so efficient… that's all the gringos see… how slow we appear to be moving, instead of how much we can accomplish by not getting in a hurry and making mistakes.
When I got to the ocean side pool area, I found the beautiful white powdery sand about 20 feet from sea level, perfectly distributed over the concrete/ marble/ tile patio areas around the pool, about 150 feet by 200 feet, a few inches deep in a flawless carpet. Only about 10% of the palm trees had toppled. Most of the others still had at least some foliage, and appeared would come back to a full and healthy life.
9am - 64 hours after our incarceration, my girlfriend and I were paroled and took a walk to downtown Playa Del Carmen. I mean we walked to what had previously been their downtown. We wanted to stretch our legs, stop by our now less than all-inclusive resort to find out if we had any luggage left, and to witness some of the carnage.
Ned & Donna - After The Storm
We confirmed our luggage was safe and dry… and went on to the town central.
Mostly we wanted to stretch our legs and take photographs, but also to make an effort to get some tequila or other liquor, back into our moderately craving blood system. My girlfriend and I enjoy life and some of the poisons that are available.
If we are alcoholics, we are very comfortable with being the way we are. We function at a high level in society, and do not cause any harm to ourselves or to others, with one minor self-inflicted injury, which I will describe in chapter two of this story.
10am - After asking four different groups of hombres the same question… we are allowed to enter a small Mom & Pop grocery store. While we are in there they tell several other people that they cannot enter. Why they let us in I’m not sure, but once we were in it was not difficult for us to have them sell us two shot-size bottles of dark Bacardi 80-proof rum, and two Coca-Cola Classics in plastic bottles.
We found a taxi driver who agreed to attempt to make the trip to Merida, about five hours away under normal conditions, where we hoped find a functioning airport. We knew we weren't gonna fly out from Cancun. We were told the runway there was under two feet of water.
This chapter gets you to 11am of day seven of our vacation. Chapters two and three will complete my rendition of our saga, which ends six days later.
Chapter 2
Sunday 10/23/05
11am - After arranging the time and place that Julio would pick us up, we walked back from downtown Playa Del Carmen to the Azteca, and got our luggage. We carried it back to the Bunker at the Maya, and said goodbye and thank you to as many of the staff and as many of our 200 other new friends as we could.
My girlfriend and I knew that it was very possible that we would find the roads impassible and have to return, but that was not a problem. We both wanted to get out of the Bunker for a while, and see what was going on in this surrealistic world around us. We waited outside the Bunker, for probably only about 10 minutes before Julio drove up and took us away... to his home and family first.
When we got to his casa, we saw a mini concrete bunker with windows. Ther was an old man in his 80's in the driveway, with a young man in his 20's working on the roof of a palapa in the backyard. At the old man's feet was a really beaten up, haggard looking duck, chained to the palapa. Next to the duck was the old man's wife, standing at an outdoor sink, cleaning what looked like it might’ve been a family member of the duck at the old man's feet.
I asked if I could use their restroom, and they said, "Of course." As I walked thru the door, I met Yovanna, Julio’s young wife of about 20, and their son Eros, 2. There was flour dough in a pot, ready to be patted into tortillas, and I really seriously thought about delaying our departure to Merida, so that I could watch the old woman do the patting.
I remember growing up, watching my Mom do it, and I was curious if the techniques were similar. Instead, I carefully utilized their toilet and wiped the rim dry. It was cleaner than my toilet at my own house at home... way cleaner. I went back outside and introduced myself to the old man (Julio’s father), and the old woman (Julio's mother). She turned and momentarily smiled lovingly at me, and then went back to work cleaning the dead duck.
My poor girlfriend, she knew what was going to happen to the living relative of that evening's dinner. She didn’t verbalize her thoughts, but I’m sure she was thinking about buying it from them, and taking it home as a pet… she loves animals. She has two dogs, a tank full of fish, an Amazon Macaw parrot, two cockatiels, three parakeets, and teases me about wanting to get a monkey.
After a few photos we got into the taxi, with Julio behind the wheel. Part of me wanted to drive, but I'd had some rum and didn’t feel it would be appropriate to drive.
The jokester in me had to ask, so with as straight a face as possible, I asked him if he would let me, and he responded with a smirk and very bright joyful eyes.
I mentioned in chapter one about my mother’s heritage. I’m sure it was partly because of the situation, but I believe it was mostly because that’s simply the way the native people are. I truly felt connected and understood. One of the other taxi drivers used a word for 'blood', and pointed at one of the veins in his arm to show me that he understood how I felt. I don't remember ever feeling so much at home, so far away from where I lived.
It may be getting old for some of you by now, but I must keep saying it. The native people of the Yucatan, the Mayan people specifically, are true humans.
Noon on Sunday 10/23 - We leave Playa Del Carmen, our home for almost exactly one week. We are going to Merida, or at least make an effort to get there. We hear that the airport there is functioning, and that American Airlines may have a flight for us.
As we pull out of Julio’s driveway, I ask him if he knows of anywhere where we might be able to purchase some cerveza. He says, "Would you like a six-pack?" I clench my fists, and say, "Perfecto!" Two blocks down, he stops the car, jumps out, and comes back with it, and my change.
Two blocks from there, I notice I am missing 200 pesos from my change. I say, "It’s ok, it’s worth it," but he says, "No", and turns around and goes back. The man who sold us the beer (out of his house), shrugs and says something... probably something like, "oh darn it, I thought I got ‘em," and gives Julio the correct change.
Later along our voyage to Merida, I realized Julio’s buddy didn’t sell us a six-pack... it was a five-pack. Julio was very sheepish when we realized that his buddy had tried to jip us on the money AND the quantity. We all thought it was very cute, and laughed out loud.
I opened a beer and offered it to Yovanna first, who was tagging along to experience the adventure with us. She took it and then I gave my girlfriend one. I opened mine, drank it while taking about 3 breaths, and opened the second one. Whew, that tasted GOOD. I leaned back and relaxed, as I sipped on the second Negro Modelo. About 10 minutes later as I was finishing it, I asked him, in my mind as a joke, if there was any tequila for sale anywhere on our way.
He said, "Maybe", and pulled over at another Mom & Pop store about two miles down the road. I went in, and found a whole wall full of about 50 different brands and sizes. I picked up a pint of Mezcal. I’d had shots of Mezcal before, but never the worm and I figured if I could survive Wilma and the Bunker, I could eat a silly little worm. I’ve heard there’s really no big deal… it’s more of a stigma that the gringos like to put on it.
We were down to the last can of our 5-pack and we were only 30 minutes into our 5-hour estimated under good conditions voyage, and we didn’t know if we’d find any more cerveza, so this time I bought a complete 6 pack… of Bohemia, one of my favorites.
At about 5pm, almost exactly 5 hours after leaving Playa del Carmen, we arrived at our hotel in Merida. The trip seemed to take only about 1 1/2 hrs. The worm had been swallowed shortly before getting into town, and I felt fine. But it was still early… keep reading… I'm getting to the self-inflicted injury part of the trip.
First we got our room key, then we took our luggage to the bar for a couple (that’s two) drinks. We were in our room for about an hour… mostly in the shower then we were off to check out the night life in Merida.
We got directions to an outdoor cafe... "1/2 block east, 2 blocks south, right there on the corner." We had no problems and sat down and ordered our beverages at about 9pm. Vino rojo for my girlfriend y cerveza for Ned. We looked at the menu and then at each other, and agreed we weren’t really hungry. We wanted to go dance at the disco- tech next door. Not eating was a mistake for me.
The disco-tech was fun… even with those silly strobe lights. My girlfriend had a couple more glasses of wine and I had at least five more shots of Mezcal and five beers. I was in the process of making my mistake… I should have eaten.
At about 1am we left the disco and got lost in Merida. All the streets looked the same, and I’m sure we wandered very close to our hotel several times. We stopped and asked directions to the Hyatt, but no one could help. We wandered aimlessly thru downtown Merida until about 4am, my girlfriend bless her heart, getting less and less patient with me and my intoxicated condition.
I’m pretty sure it was at about this time, that I began to get tired. I didn’t notice a slight uneven portion of the sidewalk, and went down. My head hit directly against the corner of a non bull-nosed marble step. Donna said she didn’t see me go down, but we both remember me bouncing back up, instantly. I touched the side of my forehead near the outside of my right eyebrow, and licked the blood off my fingers. Ouch, I thought to myself… that’s gonna hurt tomorrow.
Fortunately, I had run out of my Cumiden (blood thinner for the clots in my leg), so I hadn't been taking it, and didn’t bleed to death. Also fortunately, I didn’t bust out my eyeball. And also fortunately, I fell on my head, the hardest substance known to man. I’m sure I caught myself with my arms, on the way down, makes sense, with the way I was able to instantly bounce up, and because of the bruises that appeared on my arms the next day.
Well, I was completely useless now. Actually I had been completely useless since leaving the disco-tech. Thank goodness my girlfriend ('Hurricane Donna' was my new nickname for her) was able flag down a taxi and communicate the description of the diner and disco-tech to him, and we were able to find our hotel… the Aluxes… not the Hyatt.
Julio had told us he was taking us to the Hyatt. We didn’t bother to look at the sign on the hotel a few hours before, and the room key only had a number on it. We stumbled up the stairs and fell into bed around 5:30am and slept like babies. The Hurricane didn’t kill me, but the Mezcal almost did.
Monday 10/24
7:30am - Two hours later, I'm up and amazingly chipper. Probably still drunk was more like it. My dad always told me to drink the good stuff. I had a headache from the blow on the marble step but no hangover. After a couple cups of strong coffee, this time with Kaluha and El Jimador (no more Mezcal for a while, thank you very much), I felt like normal as normal is normal for me. 9:00am and I hear my girlfriend growling at me. It was really only a tender and gentle admonishment to me for drinking so much and almost killing myself.
There is one thing I can say about my girlfriend… patience is one of her many qualities.
9:30am - Breakfast, then lounging by the pool with a couple margaritas. We were almost caught up, from the 3 1/2 days in our prison that didn't serve booze.
11:00am - I was on the phone and had reservations ready to confirm to get home for only an extra $600, but my girlfriend says, "Wait… let's go back to Cancun, and we can fly out from there for free." Then she continued, "Chichen-Itza is on the way back and you can climb your pyramid." I agreed… it was a good choice, and it was also a bad choice. Please continue reading.
5pm - After lounging all day by the pool and in our room, we left for dinner. This time however, we took a taxi, and this time we know the name of our hotel. The La Tratta was the nicest restaurant either of us could have asked for. The food was magnificent, and the ambiance was equal. She had lasagna and I had seafood cannelloni. 7pm bed.
Tuesday 10/25
7am - I had my usual cup of coffee and watched the sunrise. 8am - My girlfriend glowing and sparkling like a diamond. Ned not so much.
WIth Paul & Suzanne
9am - We got in our taxi and headed off to Chitzen-Itza. I lost track of how many taxis we’d been in, but all together we estimated we spent about $1,200 total. We were on our way to the pyramid I’ve wanted to climb my whole life. I was so excited I could almost not contain myself. I felt like a kid going to Disneyland.
1pm - We’re checking into our cabana, named 'Tulum', at the resort hotel called Mayaland. The name sounds kinda corny, but the place was 4-star. Donna was starting to PMS, so we laid low, mostly in our cabana. It was a really nice place to hang low in. A vaulted, open-designed roof system… tile floors, stucco walls… with an indescribable feeling of peace and beauty. There were peacocks wandering everywhere… including our porch and right up at our doorway. I tried to get my girlfriend to let me bring the leftover dinner out of the fridge… I’m sure I could’ve trained them to bring us our cocktails.
I want to tell you about the showerhead. It was a conch seashell… the big spiral oval kind, about the size of a cantaloupe. It was secured to a 6x6 beam in the middle of the shower, and had half a dozen or so holes drilled in it, to let the water out. I’m gonna do something similar, except use an abalone shell, which comes with the holes already in it.
4pm - My girlfriend was tired, so I made a visit to the bar. I was sober now, for one of the first times since getting out of the Bunker and I was loving it. I met Wilbert, one of the staff at the hotel, and told him my lifelong dream of being on top of this particular pyramid, to watch the sunrise. It was one of those special moments... correct time, correct person, correct method of the request... it was one of the luckiest moments of my life... because... he said, "Be at the gate to the park, at 5am and Jose will meet you there." I almost fainted. I wanted to make sure of the meeting point, so he walked me the +/- 200 yards, through the hotel grounds, and pointed to the gate.
5pm - I ordered dinner from Wilbert, and it was brought to our cabana de Tulum, around 6pm. I walked around the hotel a little bit more after we ate, while Donna napped and rested. She needed quiet time, but I was on a high of a lifetime. At least it was the highest I’d been, up until that moment in my life. Tomorrow would be better. We were in bed at 8pm and asleep by 9. Actually, I did not really sleep... I didn’t want to sleep, I wanted to daydream about what tomorrow was gonna be like at the top of my pyramid at sunrise.
Wednesday 10/26
4am - I got out of bed, and had coffee as quietly as possible in our cabana, because my girlfriend had decided not to join me on my spiritual journey. She had a few very valid reasons…
(1) The stress of our adventure to date, combined with; (2) The PMS she was dealing with; (3) She had made the climb several years earlier with her ex-husband and probably the biggest reason; (4) She understood my sincere desire to experience the power/ history/ spirituality of my heritage on my own. She understands me.
She is one of the lucky humans on this planet who has a lot of inner peace. She is usually always happy to be content. She doesn’t feel the need to wonder about and be intrigued about things.
I, on the other hand have been blessed (or is it cursed?) with the need to learn more about myself, and the world around me. I know I will never reach my Nirvana... my piece of peace… 'heaven on earth'. I understand that it is only a concept… that except for a state of mind, it is not possible for humans while alive on this planet, to attain this state of being. Try to understand me... it is not the idea of actually reaching this place that drives me... it is the effort of the journey, that winds my clock. I truly live for the walk.
She is happy where she is, knowing what she knows. Perhaps she knows what I do not know, or perhaps she knows what such effort costs. In any case, part of me has always been envious of people like her and part of me is sad for them.
Few people I’ve spoken to in my life understand me. Often, even I do not understand me. One thing I have learned over the years is to accept that aspect of my personality and not deny it. In fact, I have always tried to nurture it. I don't care if my journey has a definite ending point… I'm just gonna enjoy the journey.
4:45am - I begin my 5-minute walk to the gate. I do not want to be late for the meeting with Jose. After only about five minutes at the gate, I moved the middle of three wooden poles, which were set horizontally, supported at their ends, which created the gate. I thought about waiting for Jose, but I knew he would find me at the base of my pyramid. I felt my pyramid pulling me, and I was not going to be able to sit there and wait… I needed to continue moving forward.
I carefully and quietly bent over and stepped over and under the poles, and replaced the one I moved, as closely to it’s original position as possible. I took another glug of water from my bottle, lit another cigarette, and began my slow walk to my pyramid. The 1/3 moon is low in the sky, but it's crystal clear, and the starlight is enough for me to see the well-worn, smooth gravel path.
The jungle is high and thick however, and I know my ankles and knees are fragile, so I use the small flashlight I had taken off the key ring to our cabana, to get thru the shadows during my +/- 1/2 mile walk to my pyramid. My mind was trying to stay coherent, as thoughts raced thru my head…
(1) I want to stay on schedule. Missing the sunrise by even an instant would be a disaster for me; (2) I have bad ankles and knees and know I must go slow, and; (3) I want to go slow… these next few moments in my life are very special to me and I do not want to rush them.
I want to try and experience every step… every piece of gravel under my feet… every leaf on every branch on every tree. Every sound I hear… from the jungle in front of me… the hotel grounds behind me… and every inhalation and exhalation I take which was supporting my ever-growing mind and body. I know this is one of those very special moments... my life was changing.
5:45am - I reach a point on the jungle path where I can see a clearing ahead of me and to my right. I stop instantly and take three deep long breaths. I’m pretty sure this is the place. I feel the hair tingling on my arms and back.
I do not like back hair, or nose hair, or ear hair, or diminishing eyesight or hearing, but I know the only alternative for me, is death, and I dislike that even more.
After about two minutes, I gain my wits enough to start slowly walking. Actually, I wouldn’t call it walking. I would call it creeping. I could feel the energy around me, and did NOT want to disturb the gods. I wanted them to feel my presence and my honest and sincere respect and love. I knew they could feel my fear.
Yes… fear. I was afraid. I hadn’t been afraid of the hurricane… I wasn’t afraid of dying from my claustrophobia… I wasn’t afraid of anything in my life... until now.
I wasn't afraid of the gods, but of the spirits of the Mayan people, who created this masterpiece of worship. I wanted them to know their efforts were very appreciated, and I was very grateful to be a part of it. The good part… not the part about sacrificing the virgins. That will not be in this story.
5:55am - Just before coming out of the jungle and into the clearing, I saw one of the sides of my pyramid. It’s the southwest corner and once again, I froze. The hair stood up all over my body, and even though it was warm… about 75 degrees, I felt a cold shiver throughout my body, and the hair all over my body felt like it was standing straight up. Even the hair on my genitals felt it.
I could see two cars in the clearing next to my pyramid. The same one my mother had told me over and over, that I should see someday…
Chitzen-Itza
(I did not 'photo-shop' this picture)
6:15am - The car door closest to me opened, and un hombre… my new compadre, gets out and slowly walks towards me, with a huge quiet smile on his face. "Jose?" I ask again. "Si", he says. I say again, "Me llamo es Ned", except before I could stop I added, "Moreno", my mothers maiden name. He smiled even bigger and said, "I know".
I'm not sure if he meant that he already knew my last name, or that he knew I was the 'gringo' with the Hispanic name, who had been given permission to climb the pyramid before the park opened.
I offered him some water from my bottle and as he reached for it, he said "no gracias". That's something my mother had taught me. When someone offers you something, you make the gesture of accepting the gift, as a sign of respect, even if you do not intend to accept it. It is a way of honoring them for the offer.
6:20am - Out of the other car, another physically larger Hispanic gets out, and walks over, not smiling quite as much. Perhaps Wilbert had noted my physical stature (6’1” and 240 pounds) and arranged that two guides would be present, in case I started running around waving my arms in the air screaming like a madman… or if I decided to try to take a piece of my pyramid home with me. After about 5 minutes, they could tell I was not a threat. They could sense my respect of this time and of this place.
6:25 - We finish our cigarettes and I take another glug from my bottle of water, and offered it to the second gentleman. Another Jose. Wilbert had sent Jose y Jose to escort me up my pyramid.
6:30 - I say, "Are you ready?" as I slowly turn towards the goal of the next few steps of my spiritual journey. They say, "Sure, go ahead". I say, "Isn’t at least one of you gonna help me?" They say, "No, you are on your own". There are tears in my eyes while I type these words... I felt so happy. They trusted me to be careful and respectful and understood that it was necessary for me to make this journey alone. I put the palms of my hands together, fingers upward at a slant of 45 degrees towards them, and bent over at the waist... "Muchas gracias compadres" I said. "Muchisimas gracias." Yes, there were tears in my eyes then too, just as there are now, as I write this.
As I turned to face my pyramid, the cold shiver came back with frighteningly stronger gusto. I wasn’t sure I had the strength, physical or emotional, to move any closer to the base. After standing there like a statue, for about 15 seconds, I turned back to Jose y Jose, and said, “Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” They both smiled lovingly, and the first Jose said, "No, this is for you to do alone." As I had suspected, they understood the supreme importance of this part of my spiritual journey.
Sometimes, usually more than not, people do misunderstand me. I am a large man, with a full voice, and sometimes my exuberance gets the better of me. My girlfriend told me the other day that she feels intimidated by me at times. I can appreciate and understand this mistake they make in my intentions. I feel strong and confident most of the time. I have always felt like God gave me a very large, strong, good heart. I have always felt a kinship with the human race. I have always believed it was my purpose on this planet to help other people. Well, unfortunately, most people on this planet are scared… afraid to let other people into their realities. Afraid the other person’s intent is to steal from them, or worse.
Although I understand this, it still saddens me that they cannot sense the sincerity of my thoughts and actions. Some do. Don’t get me wrong, I have many close friends who draw on my energy, and let me draw on theirs. I’m writing about this now because during my two weeks in The Yucatan Peninsula, I met many locals. Perhaps 50 of whom I greeted with handshakes, names, and even ambrasos y ambrasas (hugs), and they all seemed to understand me.
I was truly home in The Yucatan. I think I mentioned in Chapter One, how I believe they could sense the Mayan blood in me… we were related. We are all related by blood. I hope someday this World of People will evolve to a place where we do not have to be afraid of each other. Probably not in my lifetime, but if any of my 3 daughters have children, and their children have children, and they all talk about me to their children, then maybe, I choose to believe that just maybe, there will be a seed of me that will be alive, to experience Nirvana… Heaven on Earth. Please allow me my pipe dream. I understand the odds of this happening, but it helps me smile at people during the day and to sleep soundly at night.
Wow, I just went back to check… this is the fourth page I've written of what happened on Wednesday 10/26/05, and I haven’t even reached the base of my pyramid yet. It’s only 6:30 in the morning… a very special morning indeed. Esta es todo para mi… this is all about me.
6:31am - I ask the Joses which face I should climb and they say, "This one, the one closest to us, is the West Face. It has the steps in the best condition, and a rope". Then, they say, "That one and pointed north, is the Spiritual Side". Guess which one I chose? I walked towards the middle of the steps on the North Face, but then veered back to my right… back to the West, and a place near the NW corner… put the tips of my toes against the rock… put my hand out in front of me… leaned into my pyramid… and kissed it… a kiss of love for its history and its incredible presence. I had been waiting my entire life for this moment.
6:35am - I begin a new chapter, a new beginning in my lifelong journey towards Nirvana. I once again lean into my pyramid and… hand over hand… foot over foot… I begin my ascent to the top. Needless to say, I was feeling very emotional. I felt very little physical strength, but I also felt this journey was gonna be well worth my effort. I was not literally shaking, but the insides of me were feeling different than I’ve ever felt, and if I tried to explain it to you now, it would take another 10 pages, and so… I’ll make that another story.
6:40am - I reach the approximate 1/3-point up. I’m not counting steps. I’m saving my brain cells to feel the spirituality of the moment. I do not want to ever forget this feeling. That is the main reason I’m writing this story… for me. Thank you for reading it. I hope you’re having as much fun reading it, as I am writing it.
At the 1/3-point up, I stop… carefully turn around, and sit down. I look around my visual surroundings, but mostly, I try to feel my spiritual surroundings. Two minutes there, was all I could afford… the sunrise was scheduled for about 6:55, and I was sure it wouldn’t wait for me.
6:45am - I reach the approximate 2/3-point of my climb, and do the same thing, as I did at the 1/3-point.
6:50am - Just as my eyes reached the level of the catwalk, which went around the +/- 25’ by 25’ square by 25’ high temple on the top… I stopped for the last time. I didn’t turn around and sit this time. I could see an archway through the North Face of the Temple, and did not want to show it any disrespect. I closed my eyes, bowed my head and shoulders, and rested my forehead on the stone edge of the top of My Pyramid. I could see the sky getting lighter to my left, and realized if I lolly gagged too much more, I’d miss My Sunrise.
YES, THIS WAS MY SUNRISE
GOD WAS GIVING ME HIS SUPREME GIFT
A SUN, A SON, THE ONE
I’ve always been able to see the clear similarity between Paganism and Christianity, and Buddhism, and all the other belief systems. The way I’ve always said it is that if I had to put my belief into a nutshell, it would be the Golden Rule, from The Bible:
Do unto others, as you would want them to do unto you.
That's it. That’s enough. If everyone did that one simple thing, this planet we call Earth WOULD be Nirvana… we would have Heaven on Earth. Sometimes the things that are the most simple are the most difficult… yet another silly human foible… or paradox.
6:51 - I take the last steps to the top. I turn to my left and walk around the catwalk of the rough granite stones, to the East Face, and Our Son (for you believers out there). I know the top edge is gonna peek up soon, 'cuz there are no clouds on the horizon. The air is a little hazy… perfect for oranges, and yellows, and hopefully purple, and all the other colors God was nice enough to allow me to see... and feel.
6:52 - I have a sense I can make it around the Temple and back to this spot, in less than three minutes, so I do. I was jittery, anxious, but my physical energy was back, and felt stronger than I had since I was in high school or college. The jittery anxious feeling had changed to a quiet calmness, and I could tell I was changing.
Something was being added to my mind, body, and soul. I was in Heaven.
6:54 - Around the Temple and back to the East side. The sky is getting lighter and brighter, and I feel humanly proud of myself… that old friend Mr. Ego, and I smile, because I know how silly that is. I am, however very happy to be at that place at that time, in the “correct” frame of mind. I was stone cold sober, and higher than ever before.
6:55 - Jose comes around the corner on my left, and I just about jump out of my skin. I don’t think I let a gasp of air out or a sound, but I definitely felt my growing heart skip a beat. After almost hitting my head on the archway where I was standing, my body drooped and sheepishly looked at him and smiled. "Hola", I said. Jose didn’t look too happy. He said, "Ned, there may be a problem". I said, "I doubt it, but tell me what you’re thinking". He said, "There is a documentary film being made about the history of the Mayan Culture and they are doing some filming of the pyramid for a trailer".
Someone was filming MY PYRAMID for a movie and I was going to be in it!. But then, he continued... "There is supposed to be no-one on the pyramid at this time"… I now understand the potential problem.
I didn’t panic cuz I knew there was not a chance in hell, that Jose was gonna be able to get me off MY PYRAMID, before MY Sun came up. I didn’t feel anything but a pleading in my eyes towards this kind man, Jose. Then, he said, "If you promise to keep back from the edge, and stay low, and not make any noise, you can stay". I sighed, "Whew", and then realized I had made a sound, and quickly did the 'two finger zip' across my closed mouth, the universal symbol that I would not speak. "No problemo", I whispered, as I leaned close to his right ear.
6:56 - I relax, let my arms drop to my sides, palms facing East, and breath as deeply, slowly, and completely, as I ever have, in my past life. My new life was beginning, and once again I had to fight back the tears and the jerking motion of my torso, as I sobbed with joy and gratefulness to be in this moment. I could sense Jose checking me out, to see if I was gonna loose it, and I turned my head, and nodded to him that I was just fine.
I was perfect. Well, at least as perfect as I’d ever felt before. I’m gonna try to hold onto that feeling for the rest of my life. And what’s different now, is that I’m gonna try to share that feeling I have with others, in a less demanding manner. Wish me luck on that one. Those of you, who already know me, know it won't be easy for me.
6:58 - Time has stood still. The last two minutes seemed like twenty to me. I tried to move very quietly while nervously leaning side to side, as the gravel crackled under my sandals, for what seemed like 10 minutes. I had been down on my belly with my chin on my hands, for what seemed like another 10 minutes. I was not counting my breaths, but I was aware that I was breathing deeper and slower and more completely than at any other time of my life. I thought to myself... is this the day the sun will not rise?
6:58 - I feel sort of giddy and anxious like a little kid, waiting for Christmas morning to arrive. But not really... it was different… I feel a calm inside of me that I have never felt before. I think it was what I’ve been looking for, my entire life... inner peace. There was no way for me to be sure, I had never felt inner peace.
My Sun’s top edge appeared with small daggers of crimson yellow and I thought, laughing at my bizarre sense of humor, "Whew, there you are… I was beginning to worry about you". I’m laughing at my humor, which I get from my mother, and crying with sincere love for the entire world, which I also get from my mother.
I could feel my body start to jerk again from my sobs, but then… once again, the feeling of inner peace, a joy of contentment, filled the inside of me, to what had to be capacity. Any more of this feeling and I think I may end up in an explosion of human flesh, blood, and body parts smeared all over the side of the My Temple, and poor Jose.
Ned Accepting Son's Light
7:15am - Jose’s and My Sun is completely above the horizon… the bottom edge for about 5 minutes now, and my eyes and body and mind and soul have reached their limits of safety. I am still learning the techniques of staring at the sun and hope to continue for the rest of my life. I look at Jose, and he nods, without me saying or motioning at all, and we walk around to the West Side, actually, almost crawl as to keep our heads out of the filming taking place below, and we begin our descent to the real world at the Base of My Pyramid.
I’m ending Chapter two now. Chapter three will be the remaining adventures over the next 4 days, getting us back home to Aptos, CA, on the beautiful central California's Monterey Bay Coast.
Chapter 3
I descended My Pyramid in the same way a went up. Hand over hand… foot over foot. I stopped, turned around and sat, and looked around, at the 1/3-point down, and then again at the 2/3 point down. It was at this time that the new energy and confidence that I had received from My Sun almost got out of control. I felt very powerful and I should’ve remembered the slogan on the front of one of my favorite tee-shirts which says, “I’m Like a Superhero... Without Any Powers, or Motivation".
Well, I forgot the 'no powers' part, and decided to try and walk the remaining 1/3 of the way down like I was going down a steep stairway... facing outward… away from My Pyramid. I took one cautious step down, with my left foot first, and then my right. When my right foot planted, slowly and securely… my knee buckled, cracked, and popped… I almost fell. Fortunately I didn’t. I told myself I was lucky to cheat death, or at least severe injury. I sadly turned back, facing My Pyramid and completed my descent like an old man.
I used to be an athlete, I’m not sure if I mentioned this in a previous chapter… I used to play basketball. I didn’t put as much effort into it as my twin brother Donnie, but I was /was a more than just a capable player. I had good timing and instincts, and could jump high enough to stuff the ball. Not the running jumping off one foot, kinda jump like the way most people do it. I could jump much higher if I planted and pushed off both feet at once. Anyway, I’m mentioning this now ‘cuz I still get sad sometimes of not being able to do some of the things I used to, like walk down the steps of My Pyramid like the athlete I used to be. I am no longer young, or able to do very many of the physical things I used to be able to do. Fortunately, I can still compete with the kids, ‘cuz like my dad used to say…
"Age and Treachery will Always Win over Youth and Ability."
My dad was a real character. I wish he and my mom could've read this story.
When I reached planet earth I noticed two of the film crew, not appearing to be directly involved with the camera, and asked Jose if he thought it would be ok for me to walk over and thank them for allowing me to be on My Pyramid, while they were filming. I also was curious to know some of the details about the film. Jose said that now was not appropriate, but that if I came back in an hour or two, he thought that it would be fine. I didn’t have the time later, and so I left Chitzen-Itza without that information.
We got in our taxi and were leaving my newest favorite place in the world at about 10am. We had been offered a ride by a couple from New Zealand to join them in their rented Jeep, who said they were going back to Cancun to fly out at the same time as our flight was scheduled.
They were gonna take the back roads which they had traveled the day before, and said it was only a two hour drive. I thought that would be a wonderful experience, but my girlfriend wasn’t feeling very social and said we were going to go in a taxi, the long way… about a three hour drive... or so we thought.
4pm - After five hours in the taxi and we are finally only reaching Tulum, about two hours south of Cancun. Our flight was scheduled to leave at 4:45pm, so we decided to stay in an inexpensive hotel, The Aquaria, and get a new flight scheduled for the next day. The hotel was clean, and the people running it were very nice. It had been damaged by Wilma, and wasn’t a two star facility to start with, and the nickname one of the other tourists had come up with was, “Hotel de Cockaroaches”. We didn't care… we were too tired to care.
5pm - I’m coming down off my high from the experience on My Pyramid. I’ve been out of blood pressure medicine, Atenolol & Norvasc and my blood thinner, Coumiden for four days by this time. My leg is swelling and showing bruising. My pressure is very high, and I’m very tired. The physical and emotional activities of the last week are catching up to me. I’m light headed… not dizzy… I feel more as if I am gonna explode. I’m very concerned that I might have a stroke or heart attack.
Before we had a chance to figure out what to do, we met Paul & Debbie Neville, from New Hampshire. They were wonderful people… happy, funny and very comfortable to be around and talk with. After about an hour of getting to know each other, they offer to take us in their rental car, and look for the medications I need. They somehow knew that in Mexico, drugs like these are inexpensive and available over the counter without a prescription.
Paul drove us around Tulum… to five different Pharmacies, until we found the blood pressure meds and gave up on the blood thinner. It’s the pressure that’s concerning me the most, not the swelling in my leg, so it worked out great.
My girlfriend and I had used the last of our cash on our last taxi ride and our ¼- star hotel didn’t have the ability to give us cash on our credit cards, so Paul bought my medications for me. As soon as I got home, I mailed him a check along with my 'coupon' to save his life anytime, should he call me for help.
I’m not sure if I would’ve died without the meds, but I am positive that getting them into my system helped me greatly. I still felt ready to explode, but I felt some relief knowing it wasn’t gonna get worse. Dinner was some very bland pizza and a beer for me, and a few glasses of wine for my girlfriend. We were in bed by 9pm, but I couldn’t sleep… my blood pressure felt as if it was higher than it had been, while we were in the Bunker, and I was worked into a frenzy, thinking about what we had been through over the last seven days, and especially my experience on My Pyramid.
I didn’t know if the meds and my breathing/ relaxation techniques were gonna be enough to save me. I rested all night… afraid to go to sleep… I would’ve been upset if I had slept through my own death.
Thursday 10/27
6am - I was up walking around in the cool 75-degree morning meeting more tourists. Interesting, it’s usually the men that like to rise early, and the women who like to sleep in. I wonder why? Anyway, coffee was available at 7am, and I took my girlfriend her cup and asked her to get ready as soon as possible. Although our new flight reservations had us scheduled to leave at 4pm, we hear Cancun is not a place where things are going smoothly and that we should arrive there as early as possible. Not running smoothly? Read on…
Breakfast at 8am with nice people who helped me get a print out of the American Airlines flight confirmation, which we are told is required for us to be allowed on the Airport Grounds. The police aren’t letting anyone in, who can’t prove that they already have their reservations in place. They don’t want the airport filled with people hoping and trying to get their tickets.
We leave for Cancun at 9am and get to the airport at around 11. We are told the American Airlines Rep just left and is now giving out the boarding passes at a local escuela de secondaria (high school). We have one US dollar to our names and wait for a shuttle that the airport is supplying, and we get to the high school at around noon. We confirm we are standing in the correct line an patiently wait. Two hours went by and the line had only moved about 20 people with about another 20 people in front of us… but our flight isn’t scheduled to depart for another three hours so we're not worried. Stupid… but not worried.
One more hour goes by and then sign goes up: 'Ticket Line Closed until 7am Tomorrow Morning'. I work my way up to the front, and tell the nice lady, "We need our tickets today," and show them the American Airlines confirmation printout. She tells me, "Confirmations and reservations no longer mean anything", and then continues… "We are now operating strictly on a first come first serve basis. The first 400 people in line at 7am tomorrow morning will most likely get on flights out. The others will be turned away, until the following morning".
It took only about two seconds for me to understand the important part of her statement… "…will MOST LIKELY get on flights out. This was not looking good.
She goes on to say, "It’s worse for the 40 or so people who were already allowed thru the gates and think they're leaving today. They’re gonna be told they have to come back here tomorrow, and even then, they won't be guaranteed a place on a plane."
There was no electricity or running water in Cancun. About 1/2 the city was still underwater. I asked if I could sleep in line overnight, hoping to be one of the chosen 400, and she said, "Perhaps, but the police will make their decision later and it is very possible you would be taken to a shelter." Neither my girlfriend nor I want to stay in another shelter, but we also do not have any cash for the taxi ride back to Tulum and the bank that has electricity and would be able to give us more. I find a taxi driver (another Julio) who is happy to let my girlfriend stay with him and his family in their home while I could wait in line hoping the police would allow me to stay there, or perhaps I could hide somewhere… like behind a dumpster or something. Things were that crazy.
There was no chance in hell I was going back to another shelter. Not on this vacation. My girlfriend didn’t want to split up and I was certain that without spending the night there, we would've been outside the 400 limit. I asked Julio if he would consider driving us the 100 miles to Tulum with only the hope that I could get money and be able to pay him. He agreed without too much hesitation. I wonder how many taxi drivers in the USA would do that for a stranded Mexican. Julio told us while driving back to Tulum that there were other hotels operational that didn’t have the cockroaches as unpaid guests.
5pm - My girlfriend and I go into the Bank in Tulum while Julio waits patiently outside. We come out of the bank, and holding Julio’s money behind my back, walk slowly up to him pretending to be sad. I get close, and he asks, “Is it ok?” I smiled widely, and give him the $100 I had hoped to get. When we left Cancun, he told us the ride would cost us $50, but because we had paid another driver $150 for the exact drive in the opposite direction, only a few hours before, I wanted to give him more than he had asked for. Plus…he had taken the gamble that he might not be paid at all, and I wanted him to be rewarded for taking that gamble, and for offering us the use of his home.
My credit card had been maxed out by now, so we used my girlfriend's card to get $150, the amount she had remaining on it. I would try to increase my limit on my card the next morning. We got into another taxi and headed to a place recommended by someone in the bank line. 'Ana y Jose Hotel on the Beach', right down the road from our previous 'Hotel de Cockaroaches'.
We arrive, verify they have a room for us, and help take the luggage out of the trunk of the taxi. Donna reaches into her purse, and discovers she has lost the $50 she had after we paid Julio. I tell the driver I will be able to increase the limit on my credit card and pay him tomorrow. Incredibly, he agrees to come back the next morning and take me to the bank, which was now closed for the day. When we arrived at our hotel, Danielle, an extraordinarily beautiful young woman of 22 years, allowed us to check into our room, a cabana called 'Arenas' (sand), and run a tab on the card-voucher for our room, including meals and drinks.
Again, how many American business people do you think would do this for a Mexican? Perhaps trust is more available to give in this area of the world.
7pm - I call Sue at our travel agency and ask her to please try and find us a flight out of Merida on Saturday morning. She tells me to call back in 15 minutes. I do, and we get our flight info. This time however, instead of it costing us only an extra $600, it’s gonna be around $2,600 more. I told her that I’d negotiate with American Airlines when we got back.
8pm - I remembered my credit card customer service # worked 24 hours per day so I called them and about five minutes later, I had an additional $5,000 to pay for the hotel, our previous taxi ride, any future hotels, taxis, and food and drinks, until we got home. We are dazed and confused, but also very happy to be alive in The Yucatan Peninsula.
We are sorry we’ve 'wasted' a few days trying to get a flight out of Cancun and realize we’re gonna be heading back to Merida the next day, but also realize that everything happens for a reason, and we wouldn’t have been able to experience all that we did… the story just wouldn’t have been complete. Including a nice relaxing time at this beautiful hotel on the beach… witnessing firsthand the chaos in Cancun… and especially me getting to climb My Pyramid.
9pm - Carlos the head waiter is flambéing my gulf coast lobster at our table with Absolute vodka for the flame, and Hornitos, white wine, and orange juice, olive oil, and garlic for the flavoring. Yum. Donna has some very bland pasta… she's still not feeling well.
Now a sincere recommendation: Go to the Hotel de Ana y Jose in Tulum. This was a five-star hotel, even after Wilma. Almost everything around it was destroyed or at least severely damaged, and this place looked like it hadn’t been touched.
There was a sign in the restaurant, which said first in Espanol, and then under it in English, 'God Owns This Establishment, We Only Manage It'. I think this is true. I cannot come up with any other reason as to why it was left untouched by Hurricane Wilma. I am going back as soon as possible.
Friday 10/28
I'm up at 7am. I almost overslept… and just barely made the 50-foot walk to the beach in time for My Sunrise.
8:00am - Tony, the taxi driver from the before was waiting for me, and took us to the bank for some cash for yesterday’s ride. When I got back my girlfriend and I had breakfast and a couple (that’s two) cocktails on the beach. We were trying to soak up the last few moments at this glorious paradise resort in style.
1pm - We’re heading to Merida and a hotel recommended by Danielle. When we left I told her how beautiful she was, and that her physical beauty was enhanced by the beauty exuding from inside her. She smiled appreciatively and graciously accepted my love... the same as I have for my own daughters.
My girlfriend thought it was inappropriate, but I still don’t. Although I am a flirt at times, I am also able to express my sincere, true, honest, non-sexual feelings too. I am rarely misunderstood when I’m complimenting a woman. Usually they express their sincere appreciation for my comments. Sometimes they look at their husbands or boyfriends for suppor, but then I receive a look from both of them that acknowledges they know I am harmless. And if you believe that, I have several very nice beachfront lots for sale in Tulum.
4pm - We arrive at our hotel in Merida and check in.
6pm - We eat. 7pm - We go to bed. 8pm - We are asleep.
Saturday 10/29/05
Our last day of our vacation started with us waking up at 3am. We were in the taxi to the airport at 4, and at the ticket counter, getting our tickets on Mexicana Airlines when it opened at 5. Our flight was scheduled to leave at 7am… I would see my final sunrise of this adventure from the air, as we left The Yucatan Peninsula… all it's history and beauty… and all my wonderful new friends.
9am - We land in Mexico City and get in line at the American Airlines ticket counter. After standing in a short line, and a short wait, we get to the counter and are told that our flight was with a different airline, and we must to go to a different counter. We still had two hours before our flight, and the crowds were not too big, so we didn’t worry. What else could possibly go wrong?
While we were in line at the Mexicana ticket counter we met Luis, a very handsome and charming man from Venezuela. I told him the story about My Pyramid and the filming taking place there, and he told us that was the reason he was there. "I’m working with Mel Gibson, as a liaison between him and the Mexican Governmental Agencies". I had found out about the filming taking place at My Pyramid after all!
11am - We’re finally leaving Mexico. There were a few times during the previous days when we wondered if it would ever happen. Now, we were glad to be going home… sad to leave such a wonderful Country… but eternally grateful to have had the opportunity to have had so many wonderful experiences.
It truly was, the vacation of a lifetime.
