Can polar bears tan?: Valladolid

After almost 2 weeks in Playa del Carmen I wasn’t necessarily ready to leave, but my move was scheduled so I didn’t have much choice but to go back and let the movers in. I had spent the previous week with Jana and Hugo, both ex-SLB from Carmen. We were leaving Playa together, Jana planning to travel with me for the next month and Hugo just catching ride to Merida on his Mexico tour.

We checked out of the Penthouse in Carmen and set out towards Chichen Itza, one of the most famous set of ruins in Mexico and one of the new 7 wonders of the world. It’s a ‘must see’ on the ruins of Mexico list and also happens to be well spaced between Playa del Carmen and Merida. Perfect placement for a day trip before staying in Merida for the night.

Happily we cruised along the paid road, which is expensive, but with less towns to slow down for and much better road conditions. We had just passed the sign announcing the next service station in 65km when the car started to shutter. We went along for another 5km or so, playing with the engine RPM, when it finally died. We drifted over the shoulder and popped the hood. Maybe it’s just low on oil? The check engine light WAS on.

My car had always been a slight source of stress for me in Mexico. I bought it because I had been accosted by one too many taxi drivers living in Villa. I’d gotten into a taxi at the airport once, and the driver remembered me and took me directly to my house without any instructions from me. Another time, a driver took me on a 10 minute detour while refusing to turn down my street and asking me for my phone number the whole time. An arrange ride to the airport in a taxi resulted in the driver having my phone number. I arrived in Alaska to open my Whatsapp to many messages from him. After a while, I was done with taxis and decided to buy a car. I wanted something I didn’t care much about as I knew there was a chance I would have to leave the country quickly and leave it behind.

I bought a friend’s car from her when she upgraded. Trying to get it registered was a headache that never went away. My visa was expired. My visa was registered with the wrong address. The registration process for foreigners had changed. I was transferred to Carmen. The contract had my Villa address on it. I had been pulled over a few times, always knowing that if they choose to, they could take the car or the plates and I would have an impossible time getting it back.

I was terrible about getting it maintained on a regular basis, something I was great at with my Subaru in Colorado. In Mexico, even the Mazda dealer scared me. I was terrified I was going to get taken advantage of. Earlier on, even having to call and make an appointment in Spanish was stressful. Once I moved to Carmen, the nearest Mazda dealer was a 3 hour drive away and my boss had a(n unfair in my opinion) policy that I wasn’t allowed to leave the island without taking vacation. As a result, I knew my car was overdue for service. So it was no surprise to me that it had died on an isolated road kilometers from the nearest service station.

With more oil in, the car started, and we were on our way again with much relief. No big deal, just something to check further down the road. My passengers opened a beer in celebration. The car died again. Crap. Car started again. We drove another 7km. It died. It started. 7km. It died. We limped into the city of Valladolid 7kms at a time. It took us about 30 mins of asking around until we found a mechanics shop, but a quick call determined he was out to lunch for the next hour.

We took this as a sign that it was our lunch time too and found a great place that served exactly two dishes, both pork with a side of beans. It was one of the best meals we had the whole trip.

After lunch, we limped the car into the mechanics garage and let Hugo do the negotiations while Jana and I hid around the corner to avoid any ‘white girl’ pricing issues. It didn’t take long for the mechanic to determine it was probably the fuel pump. Apparently they fail commonly in the heat and the gas in Mexico is not particularly well filtered and occasionally has a lot of other stuff in it that gunks things up. 2 hours and $1600MX ($120US at the exchange rate THEN) fixed that.

Luckily Valladolid has a cenote in town so we were able to do a little sight seeing and most importantly, take a swim to cool down. We had turned the AC off during our 60km start and stop session because we didn’t want to stress the engine since we had no idea what the issue was. We had just spent the last 3 or 4 hours in 100deg heat without any air conditioning. We stopped for some ice cream to help cool off but it wasn’t until we were in the shaded cool cenote that I truly felt some relief from the heat. Not to mention the stress.

We missed out on Chichen Itza due to our little detour but made it to Merida that night. We checked into a hostel, ate dinner, showered and fell into bed with a definite sense of relief. First road bump, no big deal! “It can’t get any worse than this!” I remember thinking. My worse case scenario happened and we survived it! If only I had known what we were in for during the second leg of our journey!