Akumal Farewell

There's an old saying about those who forget history. I don't remember it, but it's good.
- Stephen Colbert

The chair on the sea wall to the left of this photo is where I spent several mornings as the sun was rising. It was quiet except for the Caribbean sea breaking over the reef in the distance. This caused an almost incessant roar muted by the space between us. The silence was further augmented by the shush of the lapping waves at the beach. The fugue was enchanting and mesmerizing. I sipped the strong Mexican coffee provided in our lodgings. I tried not to think of anything depressing and most mornings I was successful. It was all I wanted in a vacation. I had forgotten the trials of travel and the greed of all men and focused only on the beauty of God's wonderful creation.

Every morning at about eight, the little short brown descendants of Mayans made the half mile trek from their humble dwellings into the quiet, but more affluent side, of Akumal across the highway. I thought of recording on camera the humble life style of these hard working people, but I somehow felt it would have been an invasion of their privacy. They were the most friendly of all the people we met there. I know someone living in a large casa made a lot of money at the expense of these humble workers. I tipped them well for their efforts. Only a few tried to cheat the unsuspecting gringo out of his money, but most were surprised by the change counting skills of the bulky Spanish speaking Texican. Some rued their criminal efforts and offered more than they had taken to calm the storm.

My thoughts were in high gear when I walked where another civilization had walked over eighteen hundred years ago. The doorways at Tulum stood in silent testimony of a small people who thrived and learned in the jungles of Mexico at a time we can only speculate about. Their powers of astrological observation and calculation were unexcelled anywhere in the known world. This seaport worship and trading center spoke of their successes.
As the sun sets on my beautiful sea side paradise, I close this travelogue to Akumal. The beauty is only marred by the presence of those who can't appreciate what a wonderful world God has made for us. I have returned to my home and I am happy to be there. However, the sights, sounds, tastes, and smells of a foreign port still linger in my memory. I hope you enjoyed our travels together.

Braving Mexico

We live just about seven miles as the crow flies from Mexico. However, when we talk about venturing to the interior, we always get cautions from well meaning folks telling us to be careful. The drug lords along the border are shooting it out with the Mexican Police on a regular basis. We however, were several hundred miles from the border. The Yucatan peninsula is on the lower eastern quadrant of Mexico between the Gulf of Campeche, and the Caribbean Sea. We flew into Cancun, then rented a car and drove for over an hour down Mexico highway 307 to the lazy little village of Akumal.
Being an old law dog, I always try and locate the local Police Headquarters. I just thought I would show you the Akumal Police Station. They are not acquainted with crime as we know it in these parts. The locals are bad about stealing your money, but its all done quite legally.
Every morning I tried to work some time into my rigorous schedule to do a little writing. I did not have a word processor, so I had to do it the old fashioned way with a pen and notebook. To make it harder, I did it all with my left hand. I am going to invest in a better camera. The one I am currently using makes me look fat. In case you are wondering, I did change into less formal attire after I completed my writing session every day.

Age is not a particularly interesting subject. Anyone can get old. All you have to do is live long enough. - Groucho Marx