And then there were two. Ellie having scooted off back to Scotland, and Jess off back in the general direction of Australia, the original Three Musketeers were down to one, plus yours truly as D’Artagnan. Without the silly hair.
And we were bored with Playa. So we hopped on another collectivo and made our way to Cancun. We’d written the address of the new hostel on a piece of paper, but neither of us had enough brain cells to write the name of the hostel down (or at least remember it) so when the collectivo dumped us on a four carriageway road that we expected to be the Cancun High St, we were a bit confused… and so was the poor cab driver we roped in to help. Who knows what would have happened if Sarah hadn’t been fluent in Spanish.
(A word on collectivos – a bit like a shared taxi, a bit like a bus, these minibuses wait until they are full enough before departing to a fixed route and picking up people on the way. Collectivos are cheap, social, and very annoying if you’re in a hurry – you’ve got to wait until the driver’s ready, and if he wants to stop for cigarettes and a Coke on the way.. So be it.) I liked this sign on one of them though…
Anyway, finally delivered to our hostel (around 200 m from where we hailed the cab) we were confronted with a lovely little place with a pool, hammocks, chill zone, birds and geckos – even if it did seem to be in an industrial park. A rather hot and restless night followed…
And then off to Cancun beach. Cancun has a Zona Hotelera, where the hotels have been built on the beach, reminding me of Dubai, somehow.
We walked along the beach and realised that we were bored… so we decided to walk to the ferry to Isla de Mujeres ( a trip interrupted by the need for a mocha frappucino, a T-shirt and tat shopping trip.. and another downpour. It was, I have to say, a bit further than we expected – but turning up at the last minute we hopped on a ferry for the 30 minute trip to the island. At which point we spotted what has to be the biggest flag in the world.
Looks like PhotoShop or an optical illusion – but it really IS a building sized flag.
Isla de Mujeres wasn’t quite what we’d expected from the guide book – but still a pretty town of (more) souvenir shops and silversmiths. We decided that as we only had two hours, we’d do what everyone else does – rent a golf cart.
Not being a golfer, I have never driven one of these before… and was too busy looking at the scenery to notice all the speed bumps. Sorry, Sarah. So, we charged off to the other end of the island, where we found the Tortugranja or Turtle Farm. Sounds awful – but they rescue the eggs from the beaches the turtles lay them on, rebury them in sand and wait for them to hatch.. And when they are big enough to stand a good chance of survival, put them back in the sea. Which means big pools of baby turtles, tiny turtles and medium sized turtles.
And I still swear that they are sitting there looking very very wise…. And maybe the one I sat and ‘talked’ to for a while really did want to say “Good afternoon. We’re gonna have a great jump today. Okay, first crank a hard cutback as you hit the wall. There’s a screaming bottom curve, so watch out. Remember: rip it, roll it, and punch it. “ (Crush, from Finding Nemo)I’d like to think so.
Time for a brief dip in the sea, and a brief moment of regret that we hadn’t stayed the night out there… before heading back to the mainland an dropping Sarah back off on the bus.
And then…. There was one. D’Artagnan back on his own ready for the final leg of his journey before returning to the UK for a lightning visit. Watch this space, thrill seekers..
Explore The Adventure. . . . . 
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