Vicky Unwin's Blog

We are anxious about crowds, so we set off very early to reach Uxmal, arriving at 8.15 am. The last part of the road is very narrow, as it is the route used by the lorries avoiding the toll road to Campeche. Amazingly the only other people there are another English couple who take a fine photograph of us three in front of the Piramide del Adivino, the magnificent structure that greets you on arrival. Atty is excited because, although living in Mexico, she has never visited an archaeological site before.

Uxmal, which means thrice built, was actually constructed five times, dating from the early classic period of 600AD. The architectural styles are borrowed from highland Mexico as it was an important trading town on the Ruta Puuc, where we will visit two more sites.

Skirting round the pyramid, you get to the Cuadrangulo de las Monjas, or Quadrangle of nuns, highly decorated with long-nosed images of Chaac, accompanied by the motif of the now familiar feathered serpent, Quetzalcoatl or Kukulcan in Mayan.

We pose for photos in the arch leading to the Pelota or ball court, another magnificent structure. On the right is the famous Casa de las Tortugas (House of the Turtles) – turtles were associated with the Mayan rain god, Chaac and in their mythology when they suffered from drought so did the turtles, hence a temple to pray for them.

Opposite the 100m long Palacio in the top photo is a two-headed jaguar throne, very weather-worn.

We make our way behind the Palacio to discover another huge pyramid, only partially excavated, which gives a good idea what the site must have looked like before the heavy restoration.

What is really notable about this site, apart from the complete lack of people and tourist-tat stalls, is the magnificent stone carvings which have survived the centuries.

After a couple of hours drinking in the zen of Uxmal, we climb into the car to visit Kabah, another major trading town but small in size (or at least what has been excavated and is on display), but it must have been extensive and important if you look at a archaeological survey of the site.

Here there is another huge Palacio des Mascarones, or masks, where there are 300 depictions of Chaac decorating the front side of the temple. Round the back there are also two gigantic male figures. As we are about the leave the heavens open (as they have been threatening to do all morning) and a bus load of assorted-nationality tourists arrive – unlike us they have brollies and waterproofs! But otherwise we are almost alone here.

Our final stop is the site of Sayil, home to another huge palacio, hiding in the encroaching jungle. We have a long chat in English and French with a university graduate who is selling tickets – the strains of Edith Piaf alert us to his passion; Atty explains that university education is widely taken up and there are large numbers of incredibly well-educated people like this young man doing menial jobs. He learned French because he really wanted to go to France. He must have been lonely at Sayil – intelligent and loquacious but no one to talk to. It was hard to escape.

They are renovating this site, and there is a path cut through the rainforest leading to some of the hidden gems poking through the trees,  like the El Mirador temple. At its height – around 800 AD  – there were about 8000 people living here, hard to imagine.

The rain is still hovering so we retrace our steps to the nearby town of Santa Elena, where I have been lured to the local hostelry called The Pickled Onion – one of my childhood nicknames. I simply can’t resist! Unsurprisingly we are the only people there, but we have a pleasant enough meal -including pickled onions, in red below.

Of all the archaeological sites we have visited, we find Uxmal the most impressive by far, not only because of its quiet serenity and comparative lack of visitors, but also because of its sheer beauty and the magnificence of its structures, set amongst the slightly rolling hills of the area. The quality if the construction (even if heavily restored) is simply breathtaking. A very worthwhile excursion.

We arrive in Merida after a pain-free drive on near empty roads thorugh central Yucatan. Finding our home for the next week is not as challenging as it might have been before sat nav: Merida is laid out on a grid system and the streets seem to have alternate one-way systems. We can already see that this low-rise city with its colourful buildings is going to fun!

We are met at the Casa de los Mosaicos by the caretaker’s son, Jesus, and shown around this charming villa. It has been lovingly restored while retaining many original features – high ceilings and of course, the mosaic floor tiles, after which it is named. As is to be our pattern, we wash and brush up and go out for cocktails and supper to a nearby hostelry. You are never far from a good mixologist or meal in Merida.

The next morning we walk to the farmers’ market (a good 30 minutes – very hot) where the best brunch is served; we are seated next to a busy table of Democrats Abroad where all the expats seem to congregate – and Merida is renowned as being a really good place to live if you want to escape the US and Canada either permanently, or just in the winter months! It’s the safest city in Mexico, and we feel completely safe the whole time we are there. People are charming and friendly, and there’s only a gentle cry of ‘Come and see my shop’ from time to time.

We do notice however in our perambulations many grand old houses abandoned and in disrepair. Others have been converted into museums and cultural centres. None seem to be lived in. Is the effect of migration or narcos we wonder?

We are expecting a visitor for a few days, hot-tailing it down from Mexico City where she is working.  Atty takes us to the hottest bar in town, La Negrita, when she arrives, with a great band (style of Buena Vista Social Club), packed full of Mexicans enjoyed Mezcals and free snacks, and salsa-ing the night away. Thanks to Atty’s charm and fluent Spanish, we get a ringside seat, before leaving for dinner, where we are serenaded by a more traditional Mariachi band.

On Ross’s birthday we have booked a birdwatching tour in canoes in the mangrove swamps in Celestun, to be followed by a seafood lunch on the nearby beach. As soon as we arrive at the starting point for our trip with the original founders of the wildlife sanctuary, the Guardianes de los Manglares de Dzinintun, we are given all-enveloping anti-mosquito gear, including netted arms and face masks! And it is absolutely essential as they are pesky little nippers.

Our guide speaks good English and he is soon silently – save for the occasional splash of the punt-pole – easing us along through the creeks, in-between the tangled mangrove roots. It takes a while to get our eyes in but soon we are spotting herons of all types, kingfishers, a large black eagle, and even some baby crocs sunning themselves on the bank.

Heading out into the big lagoon, where fresh and seawater meet, producing a reddish slick on the water, we see spoonbills, pink from the staple diet of crabs, huge boat billed herons, snake herons, cormorants and later, some flamingos, though it’s not the season. Our trip lasts about three hours including a rather hot trek back via a causeway (it must 35 C and mosquitos are really a pest now!) but luckily a tuk tuk comes to our rescue.

The beach is  fabulous and lunch at Los Pompanos simply delicious – avocado piled with a fresh crab salad,  astringent lime-marinated ceviche and barbecued ocotopus – yes I know one shouldn’t, but they are very abundant here.

The days in Merida slide into one another,  strolling around the shops and squares, with brunches, lunches and supper, punctuated by a margarita or two, just enjoying the atmosphere of the town. We drag Atty off to Uxmal and the Ruta Puuc, but that will be another blog as it’s is our favourite site and worthy of more space!

After she leaves  – work calls – Ross and I go to the famous Yellow City of Izamal. Apparently the city suffered a decline earlier in the 20th century so the Mayor had the idea to paint it all yellow to attract tourism…well it’s certainly worked. 

In addition to the Convento de San Antonio de Padua – one of the oldest still in operation in the world, dating from the 16 century –  and the horse drawn carriages,  yellow piazzas and a ruined pyramid (which I am forced to climb), there is a charming little cultural museum of contemporary art, superior to the Merida museum’s offerings.

But the morning of our excursion, I wake up with a raging ear-ache – no doubt due to that enforced cave diving. Worried that I have ruptured my ear-drum (yes it’s that bad) I try in vain to find a doctor until AI informs us that many chemists in Mexico have a doctor’s surgery attached – and so for the princely sum of £3 I have an ear examination with a probe attached to bluetooth so I can see how awful my ear drum looks and, for a further £7, an array of drugs ranging from eardrops to antibiotics in case the pain doesn’t stop. Amazing. And by the next day it is better though I soldier on with the treatment until I’m home.

Talking of museums we enjoy our visit to the Gran Museo del Mundo Maya with its permanent collection of Mayan artefacts and the original reclining Chac Mool statue from Chichen Itza. Wish I’d been there before we’d visited the ancient sites! 

All too soon it’s time to climb aboard our car for the three-and-half-hour drive to Cancun airport, where we drop the car off and get a ride to the terminal. Effortless. We’ve really enjoyed our fortnight in the Yucatan, but next visit we’ll head for Mexico City, Wahaca and Guatemala.

After a week on the Mayan Riveira we pick up a hire car in Playa del Carmen, which will be ours for the next week. We had been nervous about driving in Mexico but, despite the towns and cities being slightly hairy due to there being no obvious rules of engagement, aside for give way to the left on roundabouts – the main roads are mainly empty due to the tolls, so easily navigable.

First stop Chichen Itza, where we are to spend the night in the charming Hacienda Chichen Itza. This was in fact bought by the archaeologist  Edward Herbert Thompson, who excavated the site over a period of 30 years from 1894, and is indeed built on Mayan ruins and has many ancient stones built in to the walls! The rooms are scattered around the gorgeous garden and named after the various archaeologists who stayed there; the food is delicious and there is a large pool to relax by after our long drive.

In the early evening we meet Bibiana, who is as Mayan as you get, with his basket slung round his forehead, and only just over five feet tall. He is to take us birdwatching and will be our guide to the main site the following day. 

Wandering around the lush gardens of the Hacienda we are thrilled to find a rare and huge horned owl, as well as numerous woodpeckers, mot mots and other indigenous species, too fast to photo! They grow all their fruit and veg amidst the ancient ruins so it is a lovely little stroll.

We are up early to get to Chichen before 8 am to try and avoid the queues which are legendary. Ross is second in line, and we get our tickets easily, meet up with Bibi (we joke about our shared name) and enjoy Chichen with only a select few. As we are leaving we understand why getting there early is a real bonus – the coach-loads are arriving form Cancun, several hours away. It gets almost 3 m visitors a year.

Chichen was one of the major Mayan cites and it spans several centuries (600-1200 AD) and is unique in its fusion of architectural styles, purloined from various conquerors and neighbours, including the early Puuc (which we will see a few days later on the Ruta Puuc) and the Toltec pillars – square, instead of round. Indeed it is one of the 2007 New Wonders of the World.

It was a major trading centre, with finds of gold and obsidian – neither local. Agriculturally the Mayans relied on corn, beans and squash, supplemented with other vegetables. Noone really knows how or why this great city declined but it was no longer thriving when the Spanish arrived in the 1532 and occupied the area, subdividing it up among their soldiers. They were a most sophisticated civilisation – astronomers, mathematicians, spiritualists – with an extraordinary calendar guiding their belief system and activities, far too complex to go into here. I got my Mayan horoscope at the museum in Merida and according to this I am ‘serene but strong, and usually succeed in what [I] set out to accomplish…positive, problem solver, generous with advice…traveller who takes the road both in happiness and sorrow. Feminine, verbally skilful’. Well I’d say they knew a thing or two!

Temple of Kukulcán showing the serpent heads on the staircase leading to the inner chamber

However the Spanish were driven out in 1534 by the Mayans and did not return until 1588. It was ‘discovered’ by early explorers in the 1870s and 80s and various superficial excavations were carried out, but it was not until Thompson arrived that true work and restoration began.

The site is divided into three main areas; the best known of these complexes is the Great North Platform, which includes the monuments of the Temple of Kukulcán (El Castillo) – the pyramid of the eponymous serpent god –  and the Jaguar Throne.

The Temple of the Warriors complex (below) consists of a large stepped pyramid fronted and flanked by rows of carved columns of eagles and jaguars, representing the warriors. At the top of the stairway on the pyramid’s summit (and leading toward the entrance of the pyramid’s temple) is a Chac Mool, a messenger to the gods – one of the only photographable ones we see outside of a museum. It is abutted by the Plaza of 1000 columns – really splendid (see below). 

The Great Ball Court is also part of the central complex; we saw another at Uxmal. The game of pelota was ceremonial with two teams who had to get the ball through a polo-shaped hoop, using only their bodies – no hands or feet allowed! It is absolutely enormous – and is largely empty when we visit.

En route to it is an extraordinary platform engraved with skulls, abutted by the platform of the eagles and jaguars. Many of the wall engravings are well-preserved and it’s possible to see the depictions of the gods/kings/leaders/mythical creatures/snakes and jaguars (see below).

Unfortunately we discover afterwards that naughty Bibiano missed out a whole group of other edifices including the Observatory, the Nunnery and Church, and the sacred cenote  i.e. about one third of the site. I think he was hot,  lazy and bored – but very charming all the same! Although I am slightly annoyed in retrospect.

All are connected by the remnants of great walkways. Rather spoiling the serenity of the sacred site are hundreds of tourist stalls, selling probably mostly made-in-China tat…I always wonder who buys it, as they all seem to be selling the same thing. However, we hear that the government has given them all notice to quit next year – a desperate situation for all the vendors who have congregated from far and wide to work here. Later at Uxmal, it is notable that a site clear of vendors is much more magical.

By the time we’ve done our ‘tour’ such as it is (to be fair to Bibi it was a good two hours) it is hot so we repair to the hotel for a swim and lunch before departing to Merida where we will spend the next week.

A couple of years ago we successfully bid for a week in a house in Merida at a charity auction. For some reason we never got round to using that week but, one summer afternoon, feeling rather gloomy, I rashly booked some flights to Mexico for the first two weeks in November!

Bidding for the house was not a random kindness for a cause – Ross has always wanted to dive the cenotes – deep limestone freshwater caverns and cave systems in the Yucatan – so here was the perfect birthday gift (for him)!

We decided to spend the first week on the coast on the Mayan Riviera to access the cenotes more easily. I booked a fancy boutique hotel to be our base, the Viceroy – as it turns out it is more White Lotus in its clientele than we had bargained for, with a huge group young Americans celebrating a birthday, fuelled by free-flowing booze,  disporting themselves and their perfect bodies for the best part of four days -rather ruining the intended exclusivity we had been looking for.

Although the hotel is  secluded, luxurious and has amazing service, swimming is not easy as it is rocky, and we are effectively marooned (no nearby beach bars) so any outing is an expensive taxi ride. But the most stupid thing of all – mea culpa – is that we are not that close to the cenotes, which are all near Tulum and a good hour plus away…so I spend most of the first week being cross with myself for a rookie booking error.

The Tulum ruins, and my two birthday visitors, a huge scorpion and a big male racoon – the exclusivity is confined to humans not fauna! As it turns out, despite its position on the sea-front, Tulum his the least impressive of the Mayan sites we visit, architecturally, and it is much later (13-15th centuries) towards the end of the civilisation, when the Spanish invaded

Ross has arranged the diving on alternate days, which we intersperse with other outings – a visit to historic Mayan site of Tulum, followed by what is meant to be a snorkelling trip in a lovely area, but turns out to be an all-inclusive visit to Xel-Ha an aquatic theme park where you can pet dolphins and sting rays (see photo) – my idea of hell on hearth (renamed Hell-ha by me) and we only stay for the free lunch and drinks…

 and expeditions to the Halloween celebrations in the town of Playa del Carmen, followed closely by celebrations of Mexico’s biggest holiday, Day of the Dead. Halloween is big here and the children parade with their responsible adults, dressed up to the nines. Tourists also get their faces painted, and the town is decked out in spooky paraphernalia. Even our cocktail waiter looks the part!

We visit the local cemetery to get a feel of the Day of the Dead celebrations – there is a BBQ in full swing, music playing, and effigies of skeletons and ghosts punctuate the spaces between the graves. These are also decorated with the ubiquitous orange flowers, and offerings of favourite food and drinks are left out. November 1 is the children’s day, while the following day is for the adults. Everywhere there are shrines and decorations honouring the departed – but it is more of a celebration than a mourning; we think of Louise in the cemetery and how much she would love her life to be remembered in this way – the colour orange one of her favourites,  the dressing up and the feasting.

As for the diving – well this is not something I had been looking forward to. Firstly I hate being cold so we have bought new 5 mm wetsuits and new hoods. Secondly, I hadn’t realised how DIY it would all be – kitting up by the truck in a car park is quite challenging! Luckily on our first day Victor, the guide, hefts my tank and reg down the steep steps to the dive platform to enter The Pit, one of the deepest and most recently discovered cenotes. Quite honestly I am deeply anxious as I jump in, buoyancy in the new wetsuit in fresh water is extremely challenging and I am weighted down like a drowning puppy.

Getting ready for The Pit; you can see how far down it is!

Once these challenges are overcome, we drop into the clear blue water,  through a halocline at 17m where ethe fresh water meets the salt, producing an oily viscosity, before descending down to 30 meters and then spiralling slowly upwards, admiring the stalactites. But it is dark and in my flummery I manage to drop my torch which luckily Ross finds. It is nevertheless eerily beautiful. Second pic is me and Victor descending, third is the light filtering through, then me admiring a stalactite and following Victor to get out!

The second dive is a shallow cave network, Dos Ochos (two eyes) and we follow a line through the caverns leading to a Barbie doll being eaten by a croc at the midpoint. It is a popular site, with snorkellers and other divers, but doesn’t feel crowded. And in fact Im looking rather cool by the end, even waving at the camera. Afterwards we are dropped off in Playa for a really good – and cheap –  fish lunch!

My birthday ‘treat’ is another deep dive site, Angelita, with a lovely dive leader Elisa; somehow I feel more relaxed with another woman! Here there is a sulphate layer at about 30 meters and we glide over the top, dodging petrified tree stumps, again admiring the stalactites and rock formations. I am not cold thank goodness.

The second dive is another shallower dive, Car Wash, very pretty and green with vegetation, turtles and fish. We navigate through another series of tunnels, following a line, passing some fake Mayan pottery nicely displayed for us!

Elisa drops us off at Tulum proper so we can see what we’ve been missing – the beach is gorgeous and swimming lovely, but we are told Tulum is now run by cartels and is not so nice any more. Perhaps our exclusive hotel has some advantages. Proof of cartels is evident in that our taxi driver from Playa is told he can’t pick us up so we have to negotiate a ride home…which is easier than we thought as we were envisaging having to catch a collectivo or shared taxi! But my birthday is slightly marred by all this uncertainly.

Birthday girl!

For our last day we are to go to Cozumel for some reef diving. It is a grey old day, and we once again kit up in a carpark before wading out to the Horus with a full complement of other divers plus Elisa. It is a good 40 minutes bumpy ride out to the reef, but once under the water, it is pretty with good viz, soft corals and masses of reef fish. On the second dive we see two huge turtles and a couple of nurse sharks. However, I don’t think I’d want to dive more than once in Cozumel as there seems to be little else other than drifting over this large reef.

Below – loading up on the rather unattractive Playa beach, on the boat and a selfie with Elisa

The ride back is really rough, the boat thudding on the waves and drenching us with spray! So we arrive back wet – nothing that a good mezcalita and a plate of ceviche can’t cure!

All in all a good week, though you can keep cenote diving as far as I’m concerned. A nice chance to unwind in-between the driving/diving and to get acquainted with Mexico. We are impressed with how lovely the people are and how little we are hassled or harassed in any way. And the food and cocktails are great! But we are keen to move on…next stop Chichen Itza!

A much more technical description of our diving can be found on Ross’s blog.

We dived with Koox diving, Tulum

A couple of years ago we successfully bid for a week in a house in Merida at a charity auction. For some reason we never got round to using that week but, one summer afternoon, feeling rather gloomy, I rashly booked some flights to Mexico for the first two weeks in November!

Bidding for the house was not a random kindness for a cause – Ross has always wanted to dive the cenotes – deep limestone freshwater caverns and cave systems in the Yucatan – so here was the perfect birthday gift (for him)!

We decided to spend the first week on the coast on the Mayan Riviera to access the cenotes more easily. I booked a fancy boutique hotel to be our base, the Viceroy – as it turns out it is more White Lotus in its clientele than we had bargained for, with a huge group young Americans celebrating a birthday, fuelled by free-flowing booze,  disporting themselves and their perfect bodies for the best part of four days -rather ruining the intended exclusivity we had been looking for.

Although the hotel is  secluded, luxurious and has amazing service, swimming is not easy as it is rocky, and we are effectively marooned (no nearby beach bars) so any outing is an expensive taxi ride. But the most stupid thing of all – mea culpa – is that we are not that close to the cenotes, which are all near Tulum and a good hour plus away…so I spend most of the first week being cross with myself for a rookie booking error.

The Tulum ruins, and my two birthday visitors, a huge scorpion and a big male racoon – the exclusivity is confined to humans not fauna! As it turns out, despite its position on the sea-front, Tulum his the least impressive of the Mayan sites we visit, architecturally, and it is much later (13-15th centuries) towards the end of the civilisation, when the Spanish invaded

Ross has arranged the diving on alternate days, which we intersperse with other outings – a visit to historic Mayan site of Tulum, followed by what is meant to be a snorkelling trip in a lovely area, but turns out to be an all-inclusive visit to Xel-Ha an aquatic theme park where you can pet dolphins and sting rays (see photo) – my idea of hell on hearth (renamed Hell-ha by me) and we only stay for the free lunch and drinks…

 and expeditions to the Halloween celebrations in the town of Playa del Carmen, followed closely by celebrations of Mexico’s biggest holiday, Day of the Dead. Halloween is big here and the children parade with their responsible adults, dressed up to the nines. Tourists also get their faces painted, and the town is decked out in spooky paraphernalia. Even our cocktail waiter looks the part!

We visit the local cemetery to get a feel of the Day of the Dead celebrations – there is a BBQ in full swing, music playing, and effigies of skeletons and ghosts punctuate the spaces between the graves. These are also decorated with the ubiquitous orange flowers, and offerings of favourite food and drinks are left out. November 1 is the children’s day, while the following day is for the adults. Everywhere there are shrines and decorations honouring the departed – but it is more of a celebration than a mourning; we think of Louise in the cemetery and how much she would love her life to be remembered in this way – the colour orange one of her favourites,  the dressing up and the feasting.

As for the diving – well this is not something I had been looking forward to. Firstly I hate being cold so we have bought new 5 mm wetsuits and new hoods. Secondly, I hadn’t realised how DIY it would all be – kitting up by the truck in a car park is quite challenging! Luckily on our first day Victor, the guide, hefts my tank and reg down the steep steps to the dive platform to enter The Pit, one of the deepest and most recently discovered cenotes. Quite honestly I am deeply anxious as I jump in, buoyancy in the new wetsuit in fresh water is extremely challenging and I am weighted down like a drowning puppy.

Getting ready for The Pit; you can see how far down it is!

Once these challenges are overcome, we drop into the clear blue water,  through a halocline at 17m where ethe fresh water meets the salt, producing an oily viscosity, before descending down to 30 meters and then spiralling slowly upwards, admiring the stalactites. But it is dark and in my flummery I manage to drop my torch which luckily Ross finds. It is nevertheless eerily beautiful. Second pic is me and Victor descending, third is the light filtering through, then me admiring a stalactite and following Victor to get out!

The second dive is a shallow cave network, Dos Ochos (two eyes) and we follow a line through the caverns leading to a Barbie doll being eaten by a croc at the midpoint. It is a popular site, with snorkellers and other divers, but doesn’t feel crowded. And in fact Im looking rather cool by the end, even waving at the camera. Afterwards we are dropped off in Playa for a really good – and cheap –  fish lunch!

My birthday ‘treat’ is another deep dive site, Angelita, with a lovely dive leader Elisa; somehow I feel more relaxed with another woman! Here there is a sulphate layer at about 30 meters and we glide over the top, dodging petrified tree stumps, again admiring the stalactites and rock formations. I am not cold thank goodness.

The second dive is another shallower dive, Car Wash, very pretty and green with vegetation, turtles and fish. We navigate through another series of tunnels, following a line, passing some fake Mayan pottery nicely displayed for us!

Elisa drops us off at Tulum proper so we can see what we’ve been missing – the beach is gorgeous and swimming lovely, but we are told Tulum is now run by cartels and is not so nice any more. Perhaps our exclusive hotel has some advantages. Proof of cartels is evident in that our taxi driver from Playa is told he can’t pick us up so we have to negotiate a ride home…which is easier than we thought as we were envisaging having to catch a collectivo or shared taxi! But my birthday is slightly marred by all this uncertainly.

Birthday girl!

For our last day we are to go to Cozumel for some reef diving. It is a grey old day, and we once again kit up in a carpark before wading out to the Horus with a full complement of other divers plus Elisa. It is a good 40 minutes bumpy ride out to the reef, but once under the water, it is pretty with good viz, soft corals and masses of reef fish. On the second dive we see two huge turtles and a couple of nurse sharks. However, I don’t think I’d want to dive more than once in Cozumel as there seems to be little else other than drifting over this large reef.

Below – loading up on the rather unattractive Playa beach, on the boat and a selfie with Elisa

The ride back is really rough, the boat thudding on the waves and drenching us with spray! So we arrive back wet – nothing that a good mezcalita and a plate of ceviche can’t cure!

All in all a good week, though you can keep cenote diving as far as I’m concerned. A nice chance to unwind in-between the driving/diving and to get acquainted with Mexico. We are impressed with how lovely the people are and how little we are hassled or harassed in any way. And the food and cocktails are great! But we are keen to move on…next stop Chichen Itza!

A much more technical description of our diving can be found on Ross’s blog.

We dived with Koox diving, Tulum

Finding my mother’s diaries and travel notebooks of her journeys, now published online as Travels with my Mother, inspired me to re-read my travel diary of my overland trip to India in my gap year, in 1976.

So by clicking on this link you will join the often arduous yet fascinating journey of 18 year-old pursuing her dream trip to the Hindu Kush!

Here are some photos to whet your appetite:

The last stop on our Grand tour is Florence, where our old university friend Debbie has lived since 1983! We only have two nights and one full day, with an afternoon and a morning on either side. Our fast train from Venice to Florence delivers us safely and we find the left luggage lockers before we sprint down to our rendezvous with Debbie, who has volunteered to whizz us round the Uffizi. On the way she poses with Hil outside one of her former employer’s buildings, Ferragamo!

Debbie studied History of Art, and is an accomplished artist and sculptor herself; after years of living in Florence, she has strong views on what its worth seeing and what not at the Uffizi – basically everything early! She explains to us ignoramuses how medieval art really changed with artists such as Lorenzetti and Monaco introducing architecture and perspective, giving the works a sense of place, and the three dimensions, as opposed to the formulaic static portraits of Maddonas and Child, angels etc, however beautiful they might be! The Adoration of the Magi by Monaco, 1420 (below) is, in her opinion, a seminal piece, not only for the landscapes, but the introduction of an amazing colour palette and realism, exemplified by all the faces of the characters in the painting. We drink all this in!

Another extraordinary painting showing the transformation of art is Uccello’s The Battle of San Romano c1435-40 – again the sense of perspective and the horses (some a bit contorted to be sure) all communicating live battle blood and gore.

There are so many fine paintings but I will list myself to a few favourites: clockwise l-r: Lippi (1460-5); Messina (1470-3 – the Madonna’s face is so modern); Cranach the elder (1528); Bronzino (hard to see but the worsted wool detail is quite astonishing|); di Credi (1490 – just such a timeless face and wistful expression).

Of course everyone goes to see THE Botticelli, but I rather prefer the details from the The Spring (right) and this annunciation scene, but I can’t find the attribution.

Finally we manage to find a taxi after our whistlestop two hours and arrive at our apartment Domus Giorgio in San Frediano. It is quite charming, old-school style – as Hilary says, it looks as if belongs to an old gentleman (books are eclectic, a biography of DH Lawrence, which Hil says her father had, and a Georgette Heyer, along with al the guides. It is well-equipped with Prosecco, tea coffee, fruit, drinks, biscuits. I thought it had two bedrooms, but there is one enormous double the street where we live!ed and a divan which looks most uncomfortable so we opt to share. There is also our own private outside space, plus a wonderful roof terrace with views of Florence.

In the morning – after a delicious dinner nearby – we are left to our own devices as Debbie has other things on. But she has given us a route, so we wander over the Arno, stumbling across several Chinese bridal couples posing for the obligatory wedding photos, before visiting the Santa Trinita Basilica to see the Lorenzo Monaco frescos, ‘one of the master pieces of the 14th century’ and the Adoration of the Shepherds by Ghirlandaio.

and, after a coffee and a croissant, passing through the Duomo square, heaving with people, stopping only to admire the great bronze doors, paying a massive 18 Euros to visit the San Lorenzo church – somehow we managed to miss the Medici tombs in another chapel – before going north via the market and a bag shop (cue spending spree) to the San Marco museum, home to the Fra’ Angelico frescos.

The museum is built around a leafy courtyard and was originally an old convent. Fra’ Angelico decorated most of the monks’ cells with frescos as well as altar pieces in the chapels and refectory. As we enter a fresco is being restored which is good to see. Below clockwise, detail from the main Fra’ Angelico Crucifixion and the Saints fresco (1441-2), Sogliani’s Miraculous Supper of St Dominic (1536); the cloister; the frescos in the cells; centre and left the restoration process; and last Rosselli’s Madonna (1480).

We manage to find a cab and meet Debbie in San Frediano for a very local lunch – she is well-known it seems and is greeted warmly wherever we go. She has booked a slot for us to see her favourite, the Brancacci Chapel. Here is the most wonderful set of frescos, started by Masolino but painted mainly by Masaccio, the better artist in fact (you can tell from the two depictions of Adam and Eve, the Masolino one on the left below being very static while the Expulsion from the Garden of Eden by his ‘pupil’ Masaccio is heartrendingly human (right, below). These frescoes are particularly famous for the very early use of perspective and the wonderful realism of all the characters who inhabit the paintings and mostly feature scenes from the life of St Peter (in the yellow robe). I particularly love the guard who has fallen asleep on his staff on the right-hand fresco

Our last port of call before we retire for a cuppa to Debbie’s country estate, is the the Basilica of San Miniato al Monte. Unfortunately it was undergoing restoration so we have to content ourselves with the stunning view, shared with yet another wedding couple.

Debbie’s home is lovely, surrounded by agricultural land, vineyards and a new plantation of trees. She proudly shows us her new solar panels and her studio, where she spends what little free time she has sculpting and making etchings. A lovely way to end our day.

On our final morning we have plans to visit the Boboli Gardens, but these are thwarted by the absolutely impossible challenge of finding a taxi to the airport. We manage a quick flit to the impressive Santo Spirito church nearby with its fine Lippi altarpieces, before we return to the apartment, quite prepared to schlepp our bags 20 minutes up the the station to catch a tram. On arrival at the flat, we spot a woman surrounded by luggage, and Hil has the wit to ask her if she’s going to the airport. She is! And not only that but she lives in Hampstead. We thank our lucky stars as we pile in and head off. The holiday is saved from a bitter end!

The mini bus ride to Venice is pretty straightforward and only Euros 30 (aside from a terrible accident which slows us up as soon as wee arrived in Italy|) – hop on, hop off! We are deposited in Tronchetto and find a vaporetto that takes us to San Marco, where it is a short walk to the delightful Hotel Flora. Down a side street, it was a former palazzo and is set around a leafy courtyard where we breakfast each morning. Our room is tiny (servants’ quarters we guess) but it is ‘location, location, location’. After a couple of yummy Venetian G & Ts we set off for dinner via La Fenice, where there are elegantly clad ladies and gents enjoying some sort of performance, taking a breath in the interval, to the restaurant Ai Mercanti, which I strongly recommend.

Straight to San Marco in the morning – heaving, unsurprisingly. After a long struggle with online registration (the apps seem to want every last detail of your personal info which is suspicious) we manage to get tickets to the Campanile. It is a gorgeous day and the views, 360 degrees, are simply stunning. We decide to give the Doge’s Palace a miss as the queues are appalling, and it requires registering for yet another app, which I can’t face.

Next tick box is the Guggenheim Museum. We wend our way through the streets, over canals, and the Academia Bridge, to Dorsoduro, stopping at various leather and paper shops en route. We are surprised to see that most stalls and almost all low-end shops, especially leather goods, are run by Indians and Chinese. Later we learn that not only is the labour welcomed here, but many of the goods are in fact Chinese-made, even Made-in-Italy-stamped handbags! Tongue in cheek says it is legacy from Marco Polo who was Venetian…

Typical Venice scenes

The Guggenheim Museum is a haven of tranquility on a hot day. We wander round the rooms, marvelling at her collection. Rather too many Max Ernsts for my taste – but he was her second husband! I was fascinated to see the Rudolph and Hannelore Schulhof Collection there, as the Schulhofs are distant relatives by marriage (he came from Prague originally). Particularly like the Kandinskys, Picassos, Dubuffet – and the huge Anselm Keifer (all shown below). Not so keen on the Cubists…

It is now late and we trek round to the far side of Dorsoduro looking for a recommended cicchetti eatery – sadly it is closed! Even more tired we retrace our steps and revive ourselves with a lovely spritz for me and beer for Hil, and some pizza, followed by a delicious ice cream cone.

After a rather mediocre early supper, we go to the church of Santo Stefano, where the Interpreti Veneziani frequently play Vivaldi concerts – The Four Seasons being the most popular naturally. The cellist is an act on his own! It is packed.

On day two we really want to go to the Ca’ Pesaro to see their modern art collection but it is a Monday so we have to change plans and visit the Ca’ Rezzonico instead, one of the most splendid Palazzos in Venice, right on the Grand Canal, where one Robert Browning lived in 1888. However, we mistake the Academia bridge for the Rialto and get completely lost, looking for the mercato, which of course is not there! The nearest we get to fresh fruit and veg is this barge, below!

The grand ballroom, with its chandeliers and frescos is impressive, as are many of the frescos and paintings. Perhaps the most famous works are the early Canalettos, some of them the only pieces still in Venice. I also love some of the Chinoiserie, a panel of which – this lovely camel – is reproduced below.

I particularly love the porcelain collection:

At last we manage to find a perfect cicchetti place in a side street and indulge in spritzes and yummy squares of deliciousness.

Our last stop on the way back is the Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari, to give it its full name. It’s massive and famous for its works by Titian (Madonna left, Assumption on the right), Bellini altarpiece(bottom centre, the Madonna enthroned by saints) and a statue by Donatello.

Before we return for a rest, we stop off for a welcome ice cream and to buy a pair of the famous Venetian slippers for Claudie. I bought the ones in the centre…

Our final appointment for the day is with Sandra’s friend, a Spanish concert pianist who has lived in Venice for 26 years, in three apartments in the same Grand Canal palazzo. It is a privilege to sip G&T, nibble elegant canapés, and learn about the side of Venice you don’t see as a tourist, and to admire his drawing room – the old ballroom. We are allowed to take a couple of photos as mementos, including of the grand piano. A special evening for our last in Venice. Thanks Sandra for arranging it!

The next morning, bright and early, finds us on another vaporetto speeding along to the main station at Ferrovia, to board our express to Florence. We try and spot last night’s palazzo from the water – think it’s this one; there were two identical ones owned by the richest family in Venice for several centuries, money made from the pepper trade, and then gambled away.

The early morning is when the action happens, before the tourists are up and about. Great barges of soft drinks and groceries, dredgers, other commercial boats, all jostle for space on the canal. The palazzos, now mostly big hotels, sit serenely on the water. We feel that we have covered a lot of ground in two short days.

The ‘Boys’ – four men in their late sixties – are off on their travels again. This time they are walking the Juliana Trail in Slovenia. So two of us ‘girls’ decide to come along for part of the ride – to Ljubljana and Bled, before going off on our version of the Grand Tour, to Venice and Florence.

We arrive in Ljubljana in pouring rain. We are staying in the centre and everything is walking distance. It really is a charming city, very Austro-Hungarian – in fact it reminds me of Brno, but with a lot more tourists.

We only have one full day so, after a good breakfast, we set off the explore. First to the market, stalls overflowing with soft fruits, vegetables and flowers – it is obviously a very fertile place.

From there its a steep climb up to the castle: no funicular for us thank you, following Lisbons’s disastrous crash, but given the mean age of the tourists here, I can see it’s a necessary form of transport! Luckliy the sun has come out and it’s balmy. We enjoy the view from the top of the tower over the red roofs of the city; then a tour round the museum: as John says , ‘It always starts with the Romans’ – and indeed it does. It is well-curated and fascinating to find out about the history of this tiny country of 4 million people.

Lunchtime finds us sheltering from a cloud-burst in a lively cafe by the river. From there we wander off to find the railway station to check out tickets for Bled the next day.

Slovenian beer is of course a great national treasure and many were drunk!

We find ourselves at the station early, but my overnight premonitions that we have booked tickets for the wrong train prove to be correct – the non-stop, fast train to Lesce Bled is an Austrian Railways international train, and not the train we have tickets for! Ross makes a quick detour and for the princely sum of 3 Euros each, we manage to board the ‘express’. As it happens, it runs late – and we later discover that there is a bus that goes direct to Bled itself which is much quicker! (Hilary and I take this on our departure!).

Pensioners go inter-railing!

A 20-minute taxi ride finds us in Bled itself. The Lake is so blue, courtesy of some life-enhancing minerals that a canny Swiss discovered and built a spa empire based on their efficaciousness. Our delightful pension, The Old Parish House, is not yet ready so we leave our bags and hike up the crag to Bled Castle. This is strategically-placed and overlooks the whole valley, affording magnificent views. There is of course another museum – starting with the Romans of course! The best exhibit was this bronze 6th century peacock, a symbol of eternity.

We find a jolly little lakeside restaurant and have a fish lunch and a spritz or two, before John and Ross elect to row us over to a nearby island, home to an imposing church. I later discover that this church owns our b & b and supplies all the cake and bread for its cafe.

We have a delicious dinner (the only good meal in Slovenia, which is not known for its cuisine – very stodgy, lots of pork, sausage, meat, all well-cooked! Here I have lake trout). Then we repair to a bar to await the arrival of the other two walkers, David and Adam, who roll up at about 10.30. Just in time for a round of slivovitz!

In the morning it’s time to part ways – the boys shoulder their rucksacks in fine humour, and stride off round the lake in bright sunshine. Hilary and I go to the bus stop – via a local sandwich shop for a sandwich a porter – and wait for a bus to take us back Ljubljana (only Euros 9), which eventually arrives and we are there in just over an hour. A quick coffee and then off to find our mini-bus to take us to Venice. All easy-peasy!

This is our fifth time on this magnificent boat. We are thrilled to be going with co-owners Simon and Eira Day and some friends of theirs, Julian and Leah, making up a good British contingent. In fact we are lucky in that the majority of our fellow passengers are delightful and fun; we are specially thrilled to be with Janusz and Alicja Draminski, renowned underwater photographers, despite being in their 80s!

Clockwise: Leah & Julian; Simon, master of all he surveys; Eira & Julian; Simon again; Alicja and Janusz on her 80th birthday!

It’s a schlepp to get to our start point, Ambon. A night in Abu Dhabi, a night in Jakarta and a night in Ambon before we finally board! Once on board it reassuring to see so many friendly faces amongst the crew. Plus a few new ones including our fantastic dive guide, Tamrin, who picks us up from the Natsepa Resort on our first day. 

Clockwise: us with Tamrin, ready to jump; Tamrin with Ambon city in the background; Ross listening to Yan giving the briefing; Aurelie (cruise director) and Steven, who we have dived with twice; the crew putting the sails up and taking a rest; briefing in session

We have avoided staying in Ambon proper, as it’s just another Indonesian town with sky scrapers and huge hotels, and opted for a beach-front ‘resort’ to get a whiff of the sea. Mostly occupied by a few Dutch tourists (it’s low season) and a delightful group of Indonesian students who quizzed us by the pool, as we sipped illicit gin and a Bintang. The taste of things to come!

We specially chose this cruise as we wanted to avoid Raja Ampat, which is now rather over-subscribed with boats. Our route takes us from Ambon via Banda Neira, where the spice trade began after the discovery of the value of nutmeg as a commodity,  with first Portuguese and then Dutch colonists from 1529, then past the island of Run which the British traded for Manhattan in 1667 after the second Anglo Dutch War. As the Brits took away the precious nutmeg seeds and planted them in Grenada and Ceylon, this was an appalling deal for the Dutch.

We take time out from the boat to explore the ancient Fort Belgica, bult by the Dutch in 1611, to control the local ruling tribe. They were terrible colonists and the Banda Massacre of 1611 began a genocide of the local inhabitants, later aided by the presence of imported Samurai warriors. There are gruesome paintings depicting all of this in the Banda Neira Museum. The fort is quite magnificent as you can see – and we are guided by a friendly local cat who also insisted on being in the photo with the Indonesian students!

We also visit a nutmeg plantation and are treated to local nutmeg delicacies before we buy nutmeg and mace to take home. Banda Neira is rather charming, with its old hotel on the seafront, and colourful buildings. It was home to exiles during the anti-Dutch political unrest in the 40s, and below you see some tribute graffiti.

Clockwise: Our American guest gave sweets to these girls (very bad form, the one thing you should never give – but they were pleased); Ross trying a nutmeg delicacy; the pandanus rolls were rather delicious but very sweet; our guide showing us nutmeg and mace inside the outer casing; the sales pitch; the graffiti; volcanos are everywhere;

Our route then takes us up towards Raja Ampat via Misool, home of the best diving in the area. Sadly for us it rains a lot, leaving the underwater light a bit murky, but nevertheless we have some spectacular diving.

Lots of pictures of me in action; notable fish are frog fish; clown fish with special red anemone; bargibanti pygmy seahorse; giant cuttlefish; conversation with a large moray

Our expedition to the heart-shaped lagoon, which we visited on our last trip, has to be curtailed to a boat trip and a swim, as the steps up are deemed too slippy (quite a relief tbh). Julian enjoys impersonating a dolphin to great amusement!  The Tik Tok brigade are in full-swing mode…

Talking of which we have some magnificent dolphin and pilot whale sightings – pods of at least 100 of each, circling our boat with interest.

The days pass in a haze of sleep, eat,  dive, eat, dive, eat, dive, eat and finally sleep – although Ross goes on several night dives and even I do one! When it’s fine, we read on the deck, sip G&T or Bintang, and chat to Leah, Julian, Simon and Eira and enjoy giggles with our Canadian influencer Edina, who knows how to party! The after-dive shoulder rubs are a treat! The food is, as ever, delicious, under the supervision of Hendricks, the major domo.

Relaxing; last shot is dancing wildly at Alicja’s party (with Edina of course)

And so our trip ends back at Sorong in Papua, and we head off to Jakarta to catch our flight to Medan and Sumatra where our next adventure with orangutangs awaits.

Here are some atmospheric pics of land, sea and sunsets!

It’s always such a wonderful trip – the underwater world provides balm to the troubled soul and affords time to think about things while shutting out the noise all around. We will certainly be back!