My Name is Wendy!
Arrived in Valladolid at around 8:30am, having changed buses in Merida with a short 1 hour wait from 5:30am to 6:30am and found a little restaurant so that we could orientate ourselves and eat some more snacks. Got some weird directions from asking a man in the restaurant and he spieled out a load of numbers (in spanish), which we ignored and just followed an arm direction. Then nodded and said "Si!". Needless to say we got a wee bit lost and a helpful local on a bike could tell we were looking for the hostel (The cheek of it, we look like Hilton frequenters!). Anyway we followed his directions and ignored the insult!
Albergue Del Candelaria was set next to a small park (with less grass and more concrete). We went into a dorm as they had no private rooms. It was nice and quite cheap at 80 pesos each (= 4 pounds). Next night we moved into a small double room with a teeny tiny balcony, for 50p extra a night! Perfect for quiet Cynths readings and our still early nights and even earlier mornings.
On our first day we washed our clothes in a hideous outside sink and bucket but on the plus the washing soap was free! Hung them out to dry on clothes lines that were in the shade, so they didn't dry and some were stuck with that ever present smell of damp. Now decided to support local economy and get other people to do our washing for us. In the evening we watched a local dance show on a stage in the park next to the hostel. It is amazing how a group of supposedly choreographed people can dance to completely different tempos to the music being played. Cue sniggering (with angry glares from proud parents).
<p>The next day we went to a Cenote, a cave. It was advertised as having a lovely pool to swim in. Great we thought. So we hired bikes and rode dangerously through the busy streets. Charlie's bike was rickety, squeeked and the seat was a mile high! Eventually we came across a cycle path which went all the way to the cave. We soon got brave and tackled the downhills like pros, but not quite like pros on the uphills. The cenote was a huge disappointment as it was dark, cold and full of people and black fish. Some hose cerdos got in to have a swim, so we couldn't let them beat us even if they had more insulation! We braved the water after conforting ourselves with homemade snacks. What we thought were floating leaves looked suspiciously like poo and then we noticed a huge colony of bats squeeking above our heads. Oh dear more rabies scares. Lisa combated the poo so that charlie could have a clean swim. We arrived above ground to dry off in the sun but were harrassed by a small child who repeated the only phrases she knew in english, "You promisooo, maybe later we come back, My Name Is Wendy. 10 dollar." She was wanting us to buy a picture of the cenote on a postcard but was hideously expensive at 50p so we repeated the word no at her until she went away and found more grigos to attack! Cycled home tired out and with very saddle sore bums!
Next day we awoke early to go to Chichen Itza, a famous Mayan ruin. This required us to get a second class bus (ha ha). We sat in the two front seats and were lucky to arrive alive as the suspension was a little loose and we bounced up and down, up and down in sickening swells for 45 minutes. Were promised a WOW factor by Lonely Planet but it takes more than one fairly nice building to impress us! We were not allowed to climb any of them, half were rubble pits and only one inspired us. It was a flat platform with skulls carved in four levels all the way around it. Marjacide!!!!! ha ha. It was used for the displaying of heads and sacrifices, so we ate lunch and sunbathed by it. Strange how uses have changed so dramatically. Too many guides ruining the peace with clapping and shouting, apparently demonstrating the acoustics of the ball court but really just getting on everyones nerves (Lisa wrote tits but this was modified by Charlie). One guide told us that "Seeing Chichen Itza without a guide is like watching a film without sound". We later found that a film without sound is good, especially one dubbed in Spanish. No guides for us. Walked around to find drinks in Piste and then got the bus back to Valladolid for our last night. We took a few photos and then got followed by a troop of dogs all the way back to the hostel. Spying us on our balcony, the little one managed to squeeze through a gap in the door and sniff around looking for us, much to our horror. Fortunately, the dogs weren't very loyal and followed a horse-faced woman with a billowy pea-green maxi skirt out of the hostel. We spyed an ANN look-a-like taking pictures on the pavement right in our way. We shall return to this woman in a later episode.
On the morning of our leaving we tried to get back the 100 pesos each of us had paid for the keys. A simple enough exchange one would think but made a whole lot more complex with a language barrier. Eventually with 2 mins to spare before we had to run for the bus, Spanglish saved the day and the confusion was rectified. Hurrah!
Final Thoughts: Valladolid is a nice town with an interesting notion of dancing. Nice clean hostel with cute garden, with hammocks, lizards and an outside kitchen. Shame about the ruins, they were far too popular and were not a patch on Palenque. We hate people.
Mark Out Of 10: 6
Next time..... the one you have all been waiting for..... CANCUN
