Tulum I

My grandfather -- ever an adherent to the "mountain coming to Mohammed" school of family reunions -- announced that the only thing that he wanted for his birthday was for his family to join him on a Carribean cruise (leaving from a port convenient to him, on a cruise line chosen by him). So we did (only from the California and Massachussets folk declined this fabulous offer).

Thus I embarked on my second-ever cruise. (The first one, about 10-12 years ago, was also my grandfather's idea.)

It is no exaggeration to say that I was dreading the cruise. And in many ways it failed to live up to my rather low expectations. The crew on Royal Carribean's Rhapsody of the Seas did a very good impression, for instance, of never having previously figured out how to debark 1500+ passengers from a cruise ship before. The captain did little to instill confidence in us either: he came on the intercom to tell us "I don't take orders from the dining room staff about weather conditions and ports of call. I get my orders from Miami." (Um, Mr. Captain, aren't you in a better situation than the doughnut-eaters in Miami to make determinations about your weather conditions at sea?) Not to mention the lousy food and annoying service, and the three days of propaganda (on a six-day cruise?!) about whom and how much to tip.

We departed from Galveston, a grim industrial port baked in Texan sunshine.


Amazingly, however, I saw 3 or 4 dolphins frolicking in the port area. Here is a little splash from one of them, sorry I couldn't get a better shot. But it was really cool and made me think (correctly) that there would be some redeeming aspects to the cruise, after all.

Okay, here's another one, which is even harder to see:


The highlights of the cruise were, in no particular order: (a) the dolphins in Galveston, (b) playing with my 8-year-old second cousin, Dierdre, (c) hanging out with my parents, (d) parasailing, and (e) the Mayan ruins in Chacchoben and Tulum.

I didn't take any pictures of my family, so there is (for instance) no photographic record of my many races against Dierdre across the dance floor -- each time, a different method of locomotion (e.g., crab-style, bear-style, and frog-style, to name a few). On reflection, that is probably a good thing. Most people wouldn't do what we were doing unless they were drunk. But we had a great time sans alcohol. (Her mom, my cousin, bought me a gin & tonic to thank me for playing with Dierdre, but I was too busy racing (and inventing new races) to drink it.)

However, I'll share some pictures of Tulum here, because it was really spectacular -- a beautiful park-like setting overlooking the Carribean Sea, with light that changed over the course of a glorious afternoon. (Totally unlike New York City where it is raining today, with one of those constant "don't bother getting out of bed" rains.)

Here is the layout of Tulum. "El Castillo" is the biggest building, and it is perched on a cliff overlooking the Carribean (which is the long blue-gray thing on the left edge of the map). Hmm. The words are a bit hard to see, but El Castillo (which is not a castle) is on the same level as the USTED ESTA AQUI circle, just all the way to the left.


This captures El Castillo as well as several of the other buildings:
Here's looking across the corner of El Castillo down to the sea. (This is the side where you have access down the cliff to the beach. Well, technically there is always access, but they have stairs here so you don't need to rappel down or jump off the cliff.)
The Templo del Dios Viento (temple of the wind god) is on the other side of El Castillo, also on the edge of the cliff. (I liked the way you can see the sky though the arches at this angle.)
Another building with columns, cleverly named Casa de las Columnas, in front of El Castillo. The incongruous bid of thatched roof is there to protect a crumbling relief of the descending god (in whose honor this complex was apparently built).
Here is a bit of a closeup of the descending god carving, although you can see that the head has been mutilated by vandals (I think the guide said these particular vandals were Spanish Catholics, the same ones, presumably, that burned all the Mayan books on astrology, medicine, etc., although I'll take that under advisement):

(As you can see, Part II of this post has been given an earlier date so that it can be read in the right sequence.)