The ship departs Cozumel for Playa del Carman at midnight. It’s almost 11:43 p.m. It’s been a long day, the walking tour, shopping, the people we’ve met in town and on board, beginning snorkeling, the sunset cruise. A chocolate tasting party is scheduled in seventeen minutes. Sandra and I are relaxing on a sun deck, taking in the lights of San Miguel, and the twinkling stars of the night sky.

We hear some commotion coming from the side of the ship. Wondering what was happening, we look over the railing. The gangplank was being pulled away, no problem there. More yelling, farther away, but louder this time, “WAIT! WAIT!” Running down the pier is a passenger that almost missed the boat. No, it wasn’t me, I looked just to be sure.

As the ship pulled away, Sandra and I lock in each others arms and waved ‘good-bye’ to Cozumel. We tell it “Hope to see you again, only longer than 27 hours.” Maybe we will.

Fast forward: Book two, chapter 1.
We leave for Galveston at midnight tonight to take our second cruise to Cozumel. I pray we don’t have the problems we had last year on our 25th wedding anniversary cruise.

Back to our first to Playa del Carman
Arrival time to be at 7:00 a.m. Woke at 5:30. We had a hearty breakfast. Plenty of food (no LONG line).

We’d made reservations to tour the Mayan ruins at Tulum, then to Xel-Ha, an exotic water park where you can swim with dolphins, snorkel, or sit on the beach. Both tours ($73 per person) will take seven hours combined, not including travel time. We have to be back by 3:30, the ship sails at 4.

Looking out from the ship, we see thick woods. Here the water is just as blue as at Cozumel. Don’t see high rise condos or hotels. Do see some kind of a conveyer belt (?) next to pier. Temporary souvenir shops are set up in tents, ready for the off loading tourists deniero.

Departed the ship with our ‘sail and sign’ ID card in hand.

Several busses side by side, wait to take tourists to different directions and tours.

Some people will stay on board to continue playing Bingo, or the casino, maybe do the art auction. I’ll miss my chance to bid on the Peter Max.

Others will stay aboard to take advantage of the ‘$81 PEDICURE ON SALE TODAY FOR $75 - ONLY WHILE IN PORT’ the ship’s daily newspaper announces.
Go figure. The people getting all dressed up and not going anywhere! I don’t understand their mentality. We’re in Mexico! How anyone can spend over $800 to take this cruise, only to have their nails done is beyond me. I can hear them brag as they wave colored fingers in the air, “Look at my pretty nails, I saved $6!”

We find our bus. It’s packed with people. There’s two seats left. Ours. The bus driver asks for our tickets. I look in my billfold, not in there. Check my pockets, no. After dumping my fanny pack of cameras, chocolate (“Just in case!” I hadn’t forgotten the ‘hot’ corn incident back in Cozumel), and money, I find them in the hidden zipper pocket and hand them to the tour guide. As we walk down the bus aisle, everyone stares at us, we’re already 10 minutes behind schedule.

The bus pulls out as the Mexican tour guide picks up a bullhorn and introduces himself as “Douglas.” Douglas? Back home I know a lot of Spanish people, but never knew one with the name ‘Douglas’. He doesn’t even pronounce it as Spanish sounding, ‘Doug GLAZZE’ (the ‘E’ would be silent if there was an ‘E’. Say it again with me, ‘Doug GLAZZE’. Better.). Our driver is introduced as “Mar TEN.” At least his name sounds Spanish.

We pass a stone quarry which explains the conveyor belt at the dock. Maybe this is a good indication business is booming here.

The bus drives down a dirt road, passes thru what looks like a customs or immigration gate. We don’t stop but keep going. The bus pulls on to a four-lane highway. There’s little traffic. The bus travels a moderate safe speed, not like the rocket cabs at Cozumel, I can actually view the scenery without interruptions of my life flashing by.

Pass interesting looking billboards. Some are old, ‘Vote Poncho Villa for Presidenta-long live the revolution’. Some new, ’Madre Mary’s Physco Hotline, telephono #’. Some of the boards are borrowed, ‘fruteria 2 km.’ nailed over a ‘fruteria 5 km’ over a ‘Ruins of Tulum’.

See some new modern looking resorts, a golf course, unfinished buildings, abandoned buildings, billboards, more abandoned buildings, lots of pretty trees and colorful flowers, abandoned buildings, unfinished buildings. More resorts, hopefully they will not be future abandoned buildings.

The bus slows to turn off on a two-lane road. See signs we’re getting closer. Entrancea ‘<- Ruins of Tulum’ . Pass some abandoned, unfinished looking buildings, “Are those the ‘ruins’?” Someone (me) asks the guide. “NO!” Doug LAZZE says, looking at me like he’s wondering if I’m going to be the troublemaker on the tour this time.

The bus stops at a dirt parking lot. Several tour busses are already parked. Several shops are visible but ‘CLOSED’ is written on the roll down steel doors. Everyone unloads and has ten minutes for a restroom break before the tour starts.

Sandra and I follow a group of women and children to the rest room. There’s a line already waiting to get in the concrete and cinder block truck stop type of restroom. We inch closer. One person out, one in. A woman comes out. She passes by us and says “Make sure you have 25 cents ready.” “What? What about 25 cents?” Another tourist steps besides her, points towards a lady sitting at a table outside the restroom, “She’s charging 25 cents!” “You’ve got to be kidding!” “No, really!”

We’re not in America I tell myself. If it was the good old US of A and had to use a rest room at a convenience store, you have to buy, at least a piece of bubble gum for three cents, a nickel tops. Here it’s a quarter and no gum.

I pat at my pants pocket. All I have is the old chewed foil of eaten chocolate, no coins, only 50 US dollars.

Where are we going to find two quarters? I look at the shops, still ‘CLOSED’. I look at my watch, five minutes till our tour starts. If I had time I’d make a cardboard sign “Need money for restroom, please help!” and go stand by the side of the road.

I go look for Doug LAZZE. He remembers me from my earlier question and answer period about the ruins that aren’t 'the ruins’.
“Is there anywhere we can get change for the restroom?”
”Pardon?” His face gets red as I tell him about the ‘toll’ restrooms.
My face gets redder when I tell him we’ve paid $156 for the tour that should include a restroom.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out four quarters and hands them to me. I join back with Sandra still waiting in line. Finally, it’s our turn to go in.
The restroom attendant lady is charging only the women. “WHHAAAT?” or “HUUUUH?” you and the line of ten women behind me say.
“NO, REALLY!” I say, “It covers the expense of the toilet tissue.” The line of women shake their heads, disbelieving. Some children break line and rush to the restrooms.

I had to pay a quarter too. As I take care of my business, I wondered if I should have stayed aboard the ship and had my nails done instead. I’d saved $156.

We join up with our group. Everyone stares. We’re ten minutes late. I give Doug his change. “Gracias” I said handing him 50 cents. I wanted to shake his hand but mine was still wet, I didn’t want to spend more of his money.

Doug tells us we have a choice. “Walk to the ruins or take a tram. There is a charge to take the tram,” he says avoiding my eyes and raised hand.

Having to spend a quarter already was bad enough, now we have to pay to sit again. NO GRACIAS! We are strangers in a strange land, and at their mercy. We revolt, “Viva la revolution!” Everyone votes and elects to walk. At least it’s free.

We stop to rest as one person (me) exhibit signs of heat stroke (not sweating in the hundred and fifteen degree heat).

Fifteen minutes and a hundred and twenty degrees later, we arrive at the ruin’s ticket booth. Doug tells us to wait, goes to the window, says something to the ticket taker. They converse in Spanish loudly and quickly. When they’re finished their dialog, Doug comes back to announce, “Anyone that uses a video camera has to pay ten dollars extra.” He avoids my eyes again. I hear various languages in our group. German, Italian, and some I don’t recognize. Murmuring in any language is understandable. So much for the revolution. The heat isn’t helping. I have to sit down, I feel dizzy.

I hear in my head, “The next charge after entering the park, will be 5 cents a breath.”

“No charge for still cameras!” Doug continues. I expect him to say “But to use them it’ll be 25 cents per picture taken! ” He doesn’t. “Everyone stay together, I wouldn’t want to leave anyone behind.” They’d probably charge 50 dollars US, to spend the night. Price does not include the use of the restroom.

We have to walk more. In the heat. And it’s getting hotter by the second. I’m surprised they’re not charging use of the sun.

I stop to take a sip from my water bottle, What, no charge for sipping our own water? Please let me pay. I’ll give you ten cents per sip!

The heat…

We pass a bog emitting strange sounds from deep within. “Those are frogs,” Doug points to the side of the road, “found only here in this part of Mexico.”
Wonder if they have to pay to croak here in Mexico. I bet they do, but only if they’re tourist frogs. They’d charge them what… 1 cent per five croaks? Sounds like a bargain to me!

The heat…

Why isn’t someone charging an entertainment fee to listen to the native frogs? Probably comes with the price of the tour. Maybe there’s a 15% gratuity when we leave, after all there is more then twenty of us.

The heat…

I wipe my brow. It feels like the temperature has risen ten, no fifteen more degrees. Why not give a discount on the heat? For every ten degrees they charge for, we get five more free!

The heat…

The tram passes by, people wave at us. I want to jump under it for some shade but it’s moving and I have a better idea.

How much can I pay you to run over me? I’ll pay you $10 dollars US? No here, take all I have! Please, all I ask is make it quick, get me out of this heat. Wait a minute! I paid $156 for this tour. That should include the price for running me over. Why should I have to pay extra? I bet if I’d stay aboard the ship and got my nails done, I bet as a convenience they’d a stabbed me for free, I’da saved $156. The heat…

We arrive at the ‘ruins of Tulum. A pyramid with a flat top. Surrounding it is several other stone structures that were homes used by the Mayan people. As his hand sweeps the area Doug explains what we’re seeing, “These were built around 1,033 A.D. 1,000 years after Christ.” He points, “At the top of the temple, young boys and girls and older virgins were sacrificed to the gods as a favor for rain.”
I’m betting they wanted to get out of this heat.
My brain is still cooking, part of it is saying this is terrible and sad, the other part is saying “Get much rain around here? I guess not, the Mayans are nearly extinct.

“They were chosen by lottery.”
You’re lucky numbers are 12-33-46-1…

“A clay pot, filled with milk cream-colored stones and one black, was put in the village square. All those eligible drew from it. Whoever got the black stone had the privilege of being the next sacrifice.”
White again? Gee I never win. Maybe the next heat wave…

“The Mayans were far more advanced than any other civilizations of their time.”
Instead of killing everybody else, they killed their own.
Wonder if the heat had anything to do with it?

“They developed a calendar that was highly accurate.”
Hey kiddies, what time is it? Time to play another round of ‘Mayan Power Stone Lottery’. Sorry, you must be 12 or under.

“Strangely though, the calendar ends in the year 2012.”
Huh? Doug had my undivided attention.

“Many people today believe that’s when the end of the world will occur.”
We’re talking serious stuff now. I reach for the cross around my neck.

“Here is the plot where the sacrificed were buried. Notice it’s shaped like a cross.”
“Mayan calendars are for sale at the ticket window.”
Good only until 2012?

Doug leads the group around the base of the temple. Behind it we’re standing at the top of a cliff, before us is the beautiful, waveless turquoise waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Looking farther out, it’s almost hard to tell were the sky and sea meet. Below us is a magnificent view overlooking a secluded beach.
Everyone draws closer to the edge. I’m mesmerized by the view. If I died here, this is what I’d want to be looking at.

My thought was interrupted as Doug continued, his hand pointed out towards the ocean, “You can see the world’s second largest barrier reef, the first is found off the coast of Australia.”

I look out, my eyes try to focus to see the reef.
I turn back and look at Doug. He’s looking out at the water… No, he sees something beyond it, farther. I think I see it too. Deep thoughts about what it must have been like living here at Tulum almost twenty centuries ago.

Man has always had a religion in some form. The Mayan people were no different. They offered a human sacrifice to gain favor with god.
Centuries before them, Abram, a Hebrew, in a display of proving his faith to God, was to offer Isaac, his only son, as a sacrifice. How could his bloodline continue if his son was dead? He didn’t question God, just believed what he told him, “Some day he’d be the father of Israel.” As the knife came down, God intervened and provided a lamb for the sacrifice.

Years later a new, unique concept of faith was introduced. This time, God would offer his own son, Jesus for the sacrifice. People would prove their faith to God by believing him as the son of God, his dying on the cross, and accepting his sacrifice for their sins. After three days he rose from the dead, proving his divinity as God’s Son.

“Everyone can tour the grounds on your own." Douglas announces. "Be back at the bus at 10:30.”
Time to leave, two people are late. US.

On the road, passing the ‘modern’ abandoned ruins, I look out the window and wonder, what sacrifices were made for those buildings, all the lives wasted in constructing them, only to have the work of their hands crumble like that. People invest their lives working to acquire things. Was it worth it? Some day, when they lay on their deathbed, what will they want around them and see what mattered most before they close them for the last time? Will they want their checkbook, credit cards, 401K plans, the house, ’things’. Or be surrounded by their family, looking into their faces, regretting more time wasn’t spent with them.

Doug announces, “Is everyone ready for the dolphins at Xel-Ha?” Most everybody yells “YEAH!”

As the bus turns the corner, it begins to rain.