Eloïse had us up and about around 07:00 this morning. We took advantage of the early hour to enjoy a leisurely breakfast, after which we fetched the buggy and walked the fifteen or so minutes to Chichén Itzá. We must have purchased tickets and been on the grounds around 08:15.
This is the time to come, as you beat the madd(en)ing crowds and pretty much have the place to yourself, save for a few other disciplined early birds.
The main pyramid is now closed to the public for climbing, as a careless tourist slipped and fell a couple of years ago. As is so often the case with such things, the powers that be subsequently legislated on behalf of the statistically insignificant minority, at the expense of the surefooted majority.
Anyway, I took solace in the assumption that the pyramid will doubtless last longer if trodden by fewer feet, so in that sense it’s surprising that tourists were recently allowed to climb it at all.
Today was another sweltering day, perhaps the hottest so far. It took several hours to make our way around all of the sights, by which time the site had become besieged by busloads of tourists. It’s a big place, though, so I didn’t find that the experience was marred. The only time it’s irritating to have so many people there is when a large tour group stands in front of and obscures a building of interest to listen to their tour guide. This makes taking a photo a tedious affair, as you wait for the crowd to disperse.
Lunch at the site was a decidedly mediocre affair. This is to be expected at such places where one restaurant has exclusive catering rights, but we had
Eloïse in tow, so our options were limited. We therefore took a calculated risk and paid the price.
The cheese on the nachos I ordered turned out not to be real cheese at all, but a ghastly emulsified substance I grew up in England calling processed cheese. In the US, they euphemistically call it American cheese. Basically, it’s the plasticine-like stuff they put on hamburgers in places like McDonalds.
After leaving most of my lunch on the plate (the juice drinks were tasty, though), we went back inside to see the remaining buildings. We then left and went back to the hotel to relax for a while.
Later, we drove into the nearby town of Piste and had dinner at a local restaurant before driving back to Chichén Itzá for the evening light show. For forty-five minutes, lights are shone onto and across the buildings, while a Spanish-speaking narrator dramatically brings the place to life.
Some may find such an obviously artificial event cheesy, but I enjoyed myself, even though I couldn’t glean much from the soundtrack.
Given my abysmal understanding of Spanish, it was hard not to be distracted by the unearthly clear sky, whose stars burned so brightly that I found myself yearning for a better understanding of all that I was beholding. This would clearly be a great place to practise astronomy and it’s not hard to imagine why the night sky played such a dominant role in Mayan society.
I think I saw a satellite, which I had first mistaken for a star, but it was moving across the firmament; too slowly to be an aeroplane and too slow to be much else.