A Million Little Pieces Of My Mind

The ship arrived in Cozumel about an hour and a half later than planned, due to our having to return to Grand Cayman the night before with the suddenly stricken patient. That was okay with me, as we all had early excursions and, this way, we could sleep in a little longer.

I had originally planned to visit the Mayan ruins of Tulum along with Michael, Mary and Karen. However, when we tried to get a ticket for Zachary (the "Camp Carnival" for kids requires they be picked up for lunch, which makes the whole kids' camp thing kind of pointless), we found they were sold out. Moreover, Dottie wanted to visit Tulum really badly. So I gave her my ticket and bought tickets for Zach and me to "clear kayak" and snorkel off the Cozumel coast.

I had purchased a waterproof digital camera from eBay for $20. I thought it was quite a steal, and I was right—but it was the seller who stole from me; the camera took fuzzy pictures when I tested it at home and wouldn't work at all on the ship. So I left it behind in our cabin.

The ship docked about 10:30. By then everyone was standing in line; the corridor on Deck 1 was so filled Zach and I could hardly leave the cabin. It was 11:15 before we could make it to the gangway on Deck A and outside the ship. By then the excursion had just left; a man with the tour company put Zach and me on a taxi and we hurried to where the kayaking was to take place.

Everyone was very nice in getting us to the right group. Then, just as we were about to get into our kayaks, the sky opened and a downpour began. The guide asked the group if they wanted to leave now, or wait ten minutes for the rain to stop. Zach and I were all for going, but the rest of the group preferred to wait. So Zach and I waded in the warm and beautiful Caribbean Sea while waiting for the rain to stop, which it did pretty quickly.

The kayaks weren't really "kayaks" to my mind; they were more like clear Fiberglas canoes. They each held two persons; Zach took the front and I took the rear. It was a bit of an effort for me to get into the contraption, I'm afraid. I'm just not as nimble as I was ten years ago (the last time I went kayaking). But, once in, there was no problem. In fact, I was quite surprised to note, in the evening, that my chest muscles really weren't sore at all. I was tired, yes; but not in the amount of pain I had rather anticipated.

Zach already knew how to paddle a kayak from when we lived on Harbor Lake in Peoria. A neighbor had a kayak and taught him. So all we had to work on was our synchronization. We paddled over various coral growths with their attendant fish, all of which we could see clearly through the transparent kayak floor. It was a lot of work, but fun. Still, considering I was paddling with a seven-year-old, I was very proud that we could easily keep up with the group.

The second half of this excursion was a snorkeling adventure in the same location. We were handed our snorkeling gear and walked a few hundred feet down the beach, where we put on the inflatable vests, masks, snorkels and fins. We waded out maybe fifty feet; the bottom descended slowly until we found ourselves swimming instead of wading.

Even though we were looking at the same formations we'd seen from the kayaks, this was really a much more satisfying experience. For one thing, it was less work. We could just bob on the surface, since there were no breakers and no current. But to travel from coral to coral, we had to swim and Zach had no trouble keeping up with the adults. (He was the only kid in the group.) Most of the growths were so-called brain corals; there were also plentiful sea fans. But the real fun was in the colorful fish, which surrounded us. We recognized some of them, like clown fish like the one in Finding Nemo. It was like swimming in a giant aquarium.

When we returned to shore, Zach told me he had liked the kayaking, but he really loved the snorkeling,

We had expected to return to the ship before the folks visiting Tulum, and did. In fact, as we sat to dinner at "our" table, the empty seats were very noticeable. Mr. Hanky our waiter asked where the missing people were; we explained they were visiting Tulum and he said they could come to the late seating and he would find a place for them to sit.

But, in fact, they arrived before we had finished eating, too tired to dress and dine in Truffles but eager to share with us their day.

Cozumel is an island and was, at one time, a Mayan religious center focused on Ix Chel, a fertility goddess—in other words, the Mayan Niagara falls, inasmuch as Mayan couples often came here to be married and for their honeymoons. However, Tulum, once a major Mayan city, is not on Cozumel; it is located on the Mexican mainland.

The oldest inscription in Tulum bears a date of 564 CE; but most of the buildings were erected between 1200 and 1450, known as the Mayan Post-Classic period.

To get there, Michael, Mary, Karen and Dottie had to take a 45-minute ferry to the mainland, then a two-hour bus trip to the site. That was followed by a short walk uphill to the main site, which is situated atop a bluff overlooking the Caribbean. Tulum was originally a major port for the Mayan city of Cob?.

The Mayans loved to decorate their buildings; and most of the edifices in Tulum contained frescoes (paintings made in wet plaster, which become part of the wall when the plaster dries). Unfortunately, some unruly tourists found it fun to scratch these priceless paintings, or even carved their initials and dates of visit into them.

Consequently, no one is allowed into the buildings at all any more, not even people who would treat the frescoes with the respect and admiration they deserve, like us.

A beach adjacent to the former harbor is now so inviting that swimmers cannot resist at least dipping their toes into it. Even Mary so indulged! And Michael reported that the sand felt like silk.

So now, we were all back at the ship, which quickly cast off its moorings and slipped away from Cozumel. When we returned to our cabins after dinner, we found that the night room staff had turned down our beds and left a whimsically-folded towel on it as they did every night; tonight's towel animal was an elephant. (The ship's gift shop sold a coffee-table book with pictures of the various towel menagerie.)

But the evening wasn't over. Michael and I had so much fun at the karaoke club the night before that we went again. I sang "You Were Always On My Mind" and the karaoke lady, Sonya, again asked me to audition for the Legends show to be presented the last day of the trip. She suggested I audition for Garth Brooks; but a young man named Andrew Belcher did such an awesome rendition of "Friends In Low Places" that there was no point in my challenging him. Andrew even looked a lot like Garth Brooks! He was there to sing at his friend's wedding, to be held in Belize the next day. His friend invited me on the spur of the moment; but since I was already committed to going on a cave tubing excursion, I regretfully had to pass.

In the evening, I again wrote my blog entry for the day. But the Internet service on the ship was terrible. Overall, it was the only complaint I had regarding the entire trip. But for someone like me, it was a considerable complaint. I paid $55 for 100 minutes worth of Internet service; but downloading email took 10 minutes and if someone had sent an email with a lot of photos or video, it wouldn't complete transmission at all. As for my blog entries, I had barely gotten my Grand Cayman (yesterday's) entry across. I was unable to get today's at all. So I decided to keep journaling, even if I wouldn't be able to post until we returned to Tampa.

Meanwhile, tomorrow would be another early morning. So Michael and I took a brief, late soak in the Jacuzzi and went to bed.