PROLOGUE

WHY AM I DOING THIS???

I am not a traveler, or a writer, or a travel writer. I am not an archeologist, a sociologist or a TFB (Trust Fund Baby). I am not a lady of leisure or lunch or languish by any means. This is the story of a journey I have taken for the sake of the journey: within and without. What lead me to this journey has been a journey on its own, an inner one, mostly. But that's not what this blog is about. I came here to tell you how I fared on the outer journey. Maybe we can talk about the inner part along the way, too.

I have never traveled abroad on my own. I never did the cross-country drive after high school graduation and I never backpacked through Europe. Do I have regrets about that? Indeed. So, in the midst of a multi-layered mid-life crisis, I booked a flight to Cancun, Mexico. When I booked the trip I had no idea what I would do there, but slowly it came together with the help of some dear friends who helped me create a path and a sense of security for myself. You know who you are, if you are reading this. And here is a public "Thank You" for your inspiration, faith and guidance. 

Why the Yucatan Peninsula? For one, it appeared very inexpensive compared to other places I could go. Another reason, they speak Spanish and so do I. Part of me wanted to wander to that part of the world because it is in the Caribbean, and my family came to the USA from Cuba a long time ago. We have never returned, and I have never seen the home of my family. At some point I considered going as close as I could to Cuba then making my way over there, but then I decided to save that journey for another time. Perhaps with a very different inner journey to compliment.

So this was the plan: I fly into Cancun, rent a car, spend the first night by the lagoon and then drive through the jungle for 3 hours on day 2. My second destination was Isla Holbox, a small fishing community off the northern coast, about 30 minutes sail from the small port village of Chiquila. My third destination, after a 2.5 hour drive back through the jungle was Valladolid, an old and beautiful city, rich with culture and history, and proximity to several ruins and cenotes (fresh water filled sinkholes that can be found scattered across Yucatán and Quintana Roo, some of which are deep caverns filled with aquatic wildlife, remains of the dead and occasional treasures and artifacts - a diver's wet dream, pun intended). Finally, I planned to end my trip in Tulum, which I understand to be the height of "fashion" down there. In other words, the hottest tourist destination on the Mayan Riviera these days. From jungle, to history to fashion. Then home.

Sounds ambitious, right? It was. For someone who has never done anything of this sort, it was insane...but don't fret, I am here, alive and well and telling you the tale. The outer journey had its undulating emotions, the pendulum swinging between paralyzing fear and spiritual awe. It was liberating and validating and opened my view of not just the wet rock upon which we live, but my view of myself in this heartbeat of time I have on said rock.

This is how it went...