Valladolid, Uayma and Ek Balam

Jane and I began this three day bicycle excursion from Mérida with a two and a half hour bus ride to Valladolid stowing our bicycles below in the cargo hold while we luxuriated in the cool air conditioned comfort aboard the first class ADO bus, (Autobuses de Oriente).
We are not strangers to this third largest town in Yucatán and have stayed in every hotel around the central park or zócalo at various times over the years.
We began our visits here nearly a quarter of a century ago when we first arrived aboard the narrow gauge railroad train which has been out of service over twenty years now.
Our favorite was the Hotel El Meson del Marques made famous by President Jimmy Carter who was a frequent visitor and we have even stayed in his favorite room.
This year was going to be different because as Jane and I bicycled around Valladolid’s downtown on our orientation and fact finding tour we were shocked to see that in front of the government palace a huge stage with speaker baffles two meters high were just being put in place for the carnival festivities the next two nights.
(We always travel around Yucatán equipped with our 33db German ear plugs but we knew that they would be no match for the ear-splitting noise of Carnival.)
Our first order of business was lunch which we found at a little restaurant adjacent to the municipal market four blocks east of the central plaza. Two salbutes and a glass of horchata each satisfied our hunger. Our next order of business was a quiet hotel.

This old colonial city of Valladolid was founded just 18 months after Mérida by Francisco de Montejo’s nephew in 1543 and was the last eastern outpost of Spanish influence on the Yucatán peninsula.
Here is a brief time-line of Spanish incursion into this part of the world;
In 1513 Juan Ponce de Leon, the then governor of Puerto Rico, had a pilot and navigator named Anton de Alaminos who apprenticed under Christopher Columbus on his second voyage in 1494 and became an experienced pilot for the Caribbean Islands.
Ponce took a seven month long voyage of conquest discovering Florida and was the first Spaniard to lay eyes on the Yucatán.
Alaminos later served as pilot for Francisco Hernandez de Cordoba in 1517 and for Juan de Grijalva in 1518. Later he sails with Hernan Cortes in 1519 in their exploration and conquest of Mexico City and the plunder of the Aztec empire.
Well, as you can see that in a very few short years the Spanish driven by fiendish inquisition religious zeal not only landed in Yucatán but had overpowered and enslaved the remaining indigenous forcing them to pull down their elegant temples and build Catholic churches in their place.
By 1557 the Spanish conquistadors had already destroyed 16 colossal Mayan pyramids and in Yucatán alone and from their ruins constructed that many cathedrals and monasteries.
The destruction of the Mayan was completed with the infectious plague of smallpox brought with the Spanish that annihilated nearly 90% of the native populace.
(This had been the exact same fate of the mighty Norse Vikings in the 1300s with the black plague.)
In the city of Valladolid seven churches with their own monasteries were built using Mayan slaves in different outlying neighborhoods to evangelize the Mayan population who were then not allowed into the main city.
To fast-forward in history three hundred years to 1847; this is when the “Caste Wars” between the long suffering indigenous Mayan and the conquistador Spanish ignited. It all started right here in Valladolid.
The previous uprising had occurred in 1761 at a small town named Cisteil near Chichén Itza and was so brutally put down that the Mayan populace withdrew into protective dense jungle in the adjoining territory of Quintana Roo where no white man’s life was safe.
In 1901, after more than fifty years of protracted war, independent Yucatán was annexed into the Mexican Republic and federal troops were sent in to bring a final solution to the Mayan problem.
The Mayan people had put up an admirable 54 year defense of their country and homelands but were ultimately crushed at their last stand in the remote jungle town of Felipe Carrillo Puerto.
The Mayan survivors of this Holocaust that could be rounded up were chained and shipped off to Cuba and then sold to plantation owners there as slaves. (Ironically three years earlier the U.S. government had routed the Spanish out of Cuba in order to bring American style liberty, justice and democracy to that island.)

Back to our Valladolid/ Uayma/ Ek Balam bicycle tour depicted with captioned photos;
After lunch at the central market and checking into our quiet hotel, the Don Luis, we were off for the afternoon heading west on the quiet little side road that would take us to a small village made quite famous for its uniquely adorned and recently refurbished colonial church.
The little village of Uayma is quiet to the extreme as Jane and I sit in the placid park across the street from this lovely ornate and slightly gaudy church, a classic jewel of unique adornment, and slack our thirst in the shade of some kind old trees. Our next endeavor is to capture the moment of Uayma in photos.
Recently refurbished in impeccable detail, this distinctively matchless art work in this out of the way little village evokes wondrous thoughts of inspired artisans that picked this very place to make a profound artistic statement to the world.
Built with stones from ancient Mayan temples these colonial churches hold hidden special spiritual power that bridges countless centuries and the ancient gods.

A relic of old colonial times; the above wooden hammock holder still finds use in this day and time as a belaying pin for the bell rope that ironically is made of synthetic materials here in the heartland of henequen and sisal rope.
From within the recently refurbished church with its newly installed vaulted roof, which took three years to restore, many of the original painted frescoes dating back centuries in time still give eye pleasing images.
Above are a few of the original untouched frescoes that have long outlived their creators.

Before we take leave of this placid village that is noticeably clean and conspicuously tranquil with absolutely no motor vehicles, we pause on the curb of Main Street to partake our afternoon iced coffee before biking back to Valladolid with the sun slinking low in the west and on our backs.
On the way out of Uayma we pass this forlorn railway depot with the track still intact that we had ridden so many long years ago on one of our many trips from Mérida to Valladolid and then on to Tizimin at the end of the line. When Jane and I first rode this route it was a narrow gauge train, one of the very last on the planet still in service. This train sadly quit operating more than twenty years ago.
Our quiet hotel, Don Luis chosen because the hotels we formerly used to stay in surrounding the central plaza in Valladolid were about to be blasted with ear shattering loud speakers nearly two meters tall because it was Carnival time in Mexico and especially here in Yucatán where festival is mega-decibel noise and deemed an essential ingredient for “Carnival”.
Day two: Jane and I wanted to share a special moment alone and beat the crowd to this incredible landmark of ancient Mayan heritage. We had an early morning breakfast and then stuck our bicycles in the trunk of a taxi and arrived here at Ek Balam ahead of the competition and captured a priceless and very memorable memory.
Tranquility and beauty go together here as we picked up the special vibes of this monument to the founders and original owners of Yucatán.
Recently reclaimed from the ever encroaching jungle, these monumental achievements of ancient Mayan glory days cry out with a haunting message speaking to us across the millennium of a proud, disciplined and ingenious breed of civilized people.
Beating the crowd pays a big reward that is priceless and unique to the moment.
From the top of the tallest pyramid Jane and I share a silent moment of solitude to reflect upon the history that has unfolded here in this vast remote Yucatán jungle.
This restoration speaks volumes of the ingenious creative minds of these people that pioneered in astronomy, agriculture, mathematics and natural medicine at this very place for several thousand years.
This is tranquility that speaks for itself where even the hounds have inherited the laid-back atmosphere.
This is a glimpse of what Ek Balam looked like before archaeological renovation began and reclaimed the magnificent Mayan buildings that have been the victim of neglect for the past four-hundred and fifty plus years. At least they were not quarried to build cathedrals which was the fate of so many of these temples that are now lost for all time.
In the foreground is a restored structure and off in the distance you will see one of many temples still buried beneath the encroaching jungle.
The grounds of Ek Balam are meticulously kept and restoration is progressing at a measured pace that is not disruptive to the visitors or researchers. We beat the crowd!
Our bicycle ride back to Valladolid takes us down quiet seldom traveled back roads through this poor little village of Santa Rita where we find a park and shade trees to enjoy our morning coffee. Free ranging street dogs and this scavenger hog speak volumes of this rural setting totally away from any city traffic or commotion.
Down the road we arrive in our first real city on our way back to Valladolid.
The rolling hills don’t stop this lady pushing her tricycle and headed to market.
At a very accommodating hardware store where I had purchased a new shift cable that I installed myself, this lovely young lady brings soap and water so I can wash my dirty mechanic hands after the curbside repairs of my bicycle are completed.
In the market Jane and I are treated to a scrumptious and very ample meal prepared by this lady who owns and operates her own home style kitchen for eat in or carry out meals.
These are the things that make cross country bicycling rewarding and memorable.
Pointing the way to Valladolid, we bicycle on eager and ready to find any shade on this sun-blistering afternoon.
In the central park or zócalo of Valladolid we find our shade and enjoy its cool revitalizing rewards.


The above three photos are representative of street venders patiently awaiting customers with their home made and hand stitched dresses, hand woven hammocks and other artfully crafted regional memorabilia.
Valladolid is gearing up for the bicycle tourist with rentals.
The colorful municipal market covers an entire city block and shouldn’t be missed. It is located just four blocks east of the central zócalo plaza.
This is one of seven churches and convents in distinctively different neighborhoods of Valladolid all constructed from stone quarried from ancient Mayan temples.
These colossal churches were Mayan temples before the conquest but are now lost to another era.
The old and the ancient are depicted here with this Mayan palapa home built as they have been for the past several thousand years but now they have electrical service and running water.
This is the view of Main Street from the municipal building looking out at one of the seven churches of Valladolid.
The colonial styled municipal building is resplendent with a collection of inspiring oil painted murals that are worth the trip to Valladolid just to see. The above powerfully depicts a Mayan shaman visionary resolutely facing his impending doom.
Here is the upstairs gallery of murals in the municipal building with its old colonial style roof of wooden vigas and stone bovadillas relics of early colonial times.
These Bavarian cross-country bikers are headed from Tierra del Fuego, in South America on their way to Alaska and were one of several groups we met in Valladolid at Hotel Don Luis.

Street vendors add color and convenience to the city parks with soft drinks and snacks.
The above two photos of early morning at the very clean and well kept municipal market speak volumes of the tranquility and low impact of these entrepreneurial vendors.
Valladolid has quiet and serene streets passing through several distinctive neighborhoods where the tranquility is maintained with virtually no motor traffic.
Half way between Mérida and several points on the Caribbean like Cancun, Playa del Carmen and Tulum, Valladolid has a unique geographical location which keeps it from becoming an end destination for tourists.
Another factor affecting Valladolid is the fact that this was a battle ground and front line of the “Caste Wars” between the original owners and settlers of Yucatán, the Mayan and the intruding Spanish conquistadors. In 1901 the Mexican federal troops came in with high-powered weaponry and subdued the Indigenous and rounding up all of them that they could and then shipped them off to Cuba as slaves to American occupied hacienda owners.
Bloody skirmishes continued well into the 1930s.
Valladolid has a (blame the victims), “Caste War” museum that casts a disparaging look upon the Mayan Indians and presents a positive prospective on the Holy Christians that annihilated the heathen Indians in the name of their God.
Alas the reader is left to form his own opinions.

Mérida and home are only a short bus ride away so we feel fortunate to have these interesting out-of-town excursions so numerous, easy and fun filled in our very own back yard.
Biking and busing Yucatán rewards us with a diversity of adventure not to be found anywhere…we should know, Jane and I have had forty plus years of cycling all over America and Europe together.
In this photo we are back in Mérida at Caffé Latté enjoying iced coffee and good conversation about biking in Valladolid and Yucatán with Basil Yokarinas and Alixa ,on the left with one of their clients. Basil and Alixa have an ambitious cross-country bicycle tour that visits Yucatán several times a year specializing in quiet back roads and spots that tourists miss most. http://www.bikemexico.com
I am seated on the right.
John M. Grimsrud

MAXCANU /OXKINTOC BICYCLE TOUR

MAXCANU /OXKINTOC BICYCLE TOUR
Jane and I left the house at 5:30 AM riding our 20 inch folding bikes and an hour later we were departing Mérida aboard a local bus heading southwest 60 kilometers across the low flat semi-arid scrub brush country of Yucatán to the colonial town of Maxcanu situated at the beginning of the Puuc hills on the border with the neighboring state of Campeche.
This diminutive town seldom visited by tourists seems to be lost in a time-warp far back in the past century. Maxcanu is one of countless Yucatán villages still maintaining the traditional palapa thatched roof homes of the ancient Maya that are still widely in use as they have been for many millennium.
As recently as the early 1970s over half of the population of Yucatán lived in these traditional style thatched roof homes called “palapas” or “casa de paja”.
A special tranquility is maintained in this place where bicycles and the three wheeled tricycle taxis quietly outnumber motor vehicles.
We struck off on our folding bikes to get the general lay-of-the-land and begin our photo-op country tour when we mysteriously found ourselves on the road to Oxkintoc…our map was not an accurate depiction of the roads. As it turned out we were in luck because we did not have to go out on the main road to reach our destination…every day in Mexico is an adventure.
The following story is presented with captioned photos;
It is quiet, quaint and serene on the side streets of Maxcanu but at the zócalo where we had our breakfast the resonating echoes barked out from an obnoxious ear-splitting brain- rattling megaphone grated on our nerves with repetitious tacky boom-boom-boom music interspersed with useless annoying repetitively screechy advertisements.
With our fourteen speed home made folding bikes, Jane and I luckily find ourselves on the route to our end destination of Oxkintoc.
(Spelling continuity in this part of Mexico is totally non-conforming from maps to road signs to tour books so you have to do your own detective work and be mentally flexible.)
This milpa in the country on the way to Oxkintoc is where corn, (maize) and calabaza is grown. From ancient times the Maya have sustained themselves with the perfect food group consisting of corn, beans and calabaza.
This low impact farming is very labor intensive. Using slash and burn agriculture as his ancestors have done over the past several thousand years this farmer planted his calabaza at the beginning of the rainy season and now harvests the fruits of his labor.
The seeds are collected and dried and then used in the preparation of a local Mayan dish called “siquilpac”. This is a flavorful nutritious dish with the ground seeds mixed with diced tomatoes, onions and cilantro and served cold and eaten with tortillas or tostados.
(The spelling in Yucatán of almost everything that originated in the Mayan language and was translated to Spanish has no set spelling standards or continuity.)
One interesting piece of wisdom we gleaned from these dirt-poor farmers was that that there was a big bank in town full of money that you couldn’t eat, but even though their crop had little monetary value at 25 pesos per kilo, they could at least eat it.
These are the Mayan ruins of Oxkintoc that were visited and vividly described by the famous explorer and excellent story teller; author John L. Stephens in 1840, INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL IN YUCATÁN. Amazingly the two volume books are still in print and selling well to this day. We highly recommend them to anybody even remotely interested in Mayan, Yucatecan or American history to read and enjoy.
(See the end note of this story for an excerpt from these incredible volumes.)
We have the place to ourselves this A.M.
Seldom visited and lightly excavated these mysterious ruins give haunting sensations of the Mayan civilization that flourished here for several thousand years.
That these ruins survived the inquisition crazed conquistadors who zealously enslaved the indigenous Mayas forcing them to pull down temples such as these and then construct cathedrals and monasteries in their place, which is so common a sight across all of Mexico. Every time we gaze upon a Mexican church we are saddened by the terrible trail of tears that fell upon this land of ancient cultural individualism.
Unique to this sight are the many extensive chambers known as a labyrinth that were measured, explored and described by Stephens in his 1840 visit and subsequent books.
No standard form of construction is evident in this photo of pyramid, wall and building that may all have vastly different time periods.
We have this pristine end of the world to ourselves, a reward of an early start.
Nearly forgotten and seldom visited this lonely place did not suffer the fate of so many Mayan temples that were pulled down and re-cycled into cathedrals.
This Puuc hill region of Yucatán is sparsely populated and unbelievably tranquil.
Though these ruins still stand after nearly five hundred years of abandonment they have been unmercifully picked of any interesting artifacts worth the effort of carrying off.
Nature stands ready to return these beautiful Mayan temples to unrecognizable jungle.
El Laberinto or the labyrinth so named by John L. Stephens in 1840 when he explored these rare expansive inner chambers and colorfully described his unusual encounter with the local populace who were direct descendants of the original builders.
This is what traffic looked like on the road heading back to Maxcanu. Our bicycle gearing makes our little folding bikes keep ahead of the local competition.
The man on the tricycle wears typical white long cotton clothing and sandals of the “campesino” or country farm worker typical of Yucatán. This was universal attire just a few years ago.
We stop to chat with the man that had been harvesting his calabaza seeds and you will see the meager results of his mornings efforts in the white bag on the back of his bicycle.
Back in town huge families live in open air compounds like this typical tropical shaded living room in the suburbs of Maxcanu.
At the neighborhood molino women bring in their cooked whole corn to be ground into masa and made into tortillas. Conversation and town gossip are the by-products. Jane and I have become alert to the sound of the molino as we bike through the small towns and villages always stopping to by a couple hundred grams of the delightfully fresh hot tortillas still steaming out of the machine.
Maxcanu is immaculately clean and well kept in almost every detail showing civic pride
A Mayan temple once stood here but is long forgotten replaced by this.
Noon in the zócalo plaza is busier but quieter than the early morning with its megaphone blasting.
Puerco and frijol (pork and black beans) is tastily prepared and amply served at this reasonable market restaurant.
A happy kitchen crew produces a joyous dining extravaganza.
No glitter and glitz just honest food bring in the hard working and hungry towns folk to get fed-up!

We loaded our fold-up bicycles into the cargo hold of the bus to Mérida and leaned back to dream a dream of our days adventures as we rolled the 60 kilometers back home after thoroughly enjoying another fun filled day trip. February 26, 2007

An excerpt from the book;
INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL IN YUCATÁN BY JOHN L. STEPHENS

Page 124 Maxcanú and the ruins of Oxkintok
La Cueva de Maxcnaú, or the Cave of Maxcanú, has in that region a marvelous and mystical reputation. It is called by the Indians Satun Sat, which means in Spanish El Laberinto or El Perdedero, the Labyrinth, or place in which one may be lost. Notwithstanding its wonderful reputation, and a name which alone, in any other country, would induce a thorough exploration, it is a singular fact, and exhibits more strikingly than anything I can mention the indifference of the people of all classes to the antiquities of the country, that up to the time of my arrival at the door, this Laberinto had never been examined. My friend Don Lorenzo Peon would give me every faculty for exploring in except joining me himself. Several persons had penetrated to some distance with a string held outside, but had turned back, and the universal belief was, that it contained passages without number and without end.
Under these circumstances, I certainly felt some degree of excitement as I stood in the doorway. The very name called up those stupendous works of Crete and on the shores of the Mæritic Lake which are now almost discredited as fabulous.
My retinue consisted of eight men, who considered themselves to be in my employ, besides three of four supernumeraries, and all together formed a crowd around the door. Except the mayoral of Uxmal, I had never seen one of them before, and as I considered it important to have a reliable man outside, I stationed him at the door with a ball of twine. I tied one end around my left wrist, and told one of the men to light a torch and follow me, but he refused absolutely, and all the rest, after one another, did the same. They were all read enough to hold the string; and I was curious to know, and had a conference with them on the interesting point, weather they expected any pay for their services in standing out of doors. One expected pay for showing me the place, others for carrying water, another for taking care of the horses, and so on, but I terminated the matter abruptly by declaring that I should not pay one of them a medio; and, ordering them all away from the door, which they were smothering, and a little affected with one of their apprehensions of starting some wild beast, which might be making his lair in the cave, I entered with a candle in one hand and a pistol in the other.
The entrance faces the west. The mouth is filled with rubbish, scrambled over which, I stood in a narrow passage or gallery, constructed, like all of the apartments above ground, with smooth walls and triangular arched ceiling. The passage was about four feet wide, and seven feet high to the top of the arch. It ran due east, and at the distance of six or eight yards opened into another, or rather was stopped by another crossing it, and running north and south. At the distance of a few yards, on the right side of the wall, I found a door, filled up, and at a distance of thirty-five feet the passage ended, and a door opened at right angles on the left into another gallery running due east. Following this, at a distance of thirteen feet I found another gallery on the left, running north, and beyond it, at the end, still another, also on the left, and running north, four yards long, and then walled up, with only an opening into it about a foot square.
Turning back, I entered the gallery which I had passed, and which ran north eight or ten yards; at the end was a doorway on the right, opening into a gallery that ran east. At the end of this were six steps, each one foot high and two wide, leading to another gallery, which ran north twelve yards. At the end there came another gallery on the left, which ran west ten yards, and at the end of this another on the right, running north about six feet. This passage was walled up at the north end, and at the distance of five yards from this end another doorway led into a passage running to the east. At the distance of four yards a gallery crossed at f=right angles, running north and south, forty-five feet long and walled at both ends; and three or four yards further another gallery crossed it, also running north and south. This last was walled up at the south, and on the north led to still another gallery, which ran east, three yards long. This was stopped by another gallery crossing it, running to the south three yards, when it was walled up, and to the north eight yards, when it turned to the west.
In utter ignorance of the ground, I found myself turning and doubling along these dark and narrow passages, which seemed really to have no end, and justly to entitle the place to its name of El Laberinto.
I was not entirely free from the apprehension of starting a some wild animal, and moved slowly and very cautiously. In the mean time, in turning the corners, m twine would be entangled, and the Indians, moved by the probability of getting no pay, entered to clear it, and by degrees all came up with me in a body. I got a glimpse of their torches behind me just as I was turning into a new passage, and at the moment I was startled by a noise which set me back rather quickly, and completely routed them. It proceeded from a rushing of bats, and, having a sort of horror of these beastly birds, this was an ugly place to meet them in, for the passage was low, and there was so little room for a flight overhead, that in walking upright here was great danger of their striking my face. It was necessary to move with the head bent down, and protecting the lights from the flapping of their wings. Nevertheless, every step was exciting, and called up recollections of the pyramids and tomes of Egypt, and I could not but believe that these dark and intricate passages would introduce me to some large saloon, or perhaps some royal sepulcher. Belozni, and the tomb of Cephrenes and its alabaster sarcophagus, were floating through my brain, when all at ounce I found a passage choked up and effectually stopped. The ceiling had fallen in, crushed by the great mass of superincumbent earth, and further progress was utterly impossible.

MAYAPAN / ACANCEH

MAYAPAN / ACANCEH; These two unique and seldom visited archaeological sites are interesting and very memorable if for no other reason than they are not crammed with bus-load hordes of visitors.
What makes these two places so great is the fact that they can both be visited in an easy day trip out of Mérida by bus. You will not need a bicycle on this trip because easy local transportation is readily available.
Start early from the bus terminal on calle 50 and 57 for the 47 kilometer ride.
Buy your bus ticket to Mayapan and the bus driver will let you off at the entrance to these seldom visited remote and tranquil Mayan ruins.
Plan to arrive before 9 AM on week days and more than likely you will be the only visitors; it is well worth the effort.
The following story is told with captioned photos;

At the perfectly unspoiled entrance to quiet and pristine Mayapan before 9 AM Jane and I are treated to a very special reward of having this enchanted world of ancient Mayan heritage to ourselves.
Yes, we are happy to be here and this tropical morning and share a priceless extraordinary memory making moment. The tranquility speaks to us with powerful vibes of the mighty Mayan empire that flourished at this very place.
Beckoning us to enter... this monumental complex of over four-thousand individual ancient Mayan buildings that are only partially restored tell a haunting story of an organized civilization that harmoniously thrived with nature right up until the time of the conquest.
Jane and I first visited Mayapan more than twenty years ago when it was overrun with tropical vegetation that was pulling down and destroying these beautiful creations of the ancient Mayan times. The restoration and preservation has been a remarkable success.
Immaculately clean, well restored and tranquilly quiet makes this place a favorite of ours. Majestic beauty still abounds and speaks out from across countless centuries directly to us.
The significance of these unique buildings is hard to fathom because of the advanced minds proficient in mathematics, astronomy and natural medicine that created this colossal metropolitan center with an engineered purpose.
Four hundred plus years ago in its prime these structures were all ornately plastered, painted and decorated.
No motorized apparatus was accessible or sophisticated survey gadgetry was available to these craftsmen and engineers that erected these geometrically accurate edifices.
Jane gives a good scale of size in this photo depicting massive Mayan handy work.
So very little remains of the meticulous plaster and frescos that adorned these structures that were elaborately ornamented in inspirational wonders from these first Americans.
Unearthed are these few plaster glyphs now in a state of scrupulous restoration.
This prized moment is a wondrous time to have the entire meticulously kept and uncontaminated location to ourselves and the precious memories that go along with it.

The amazing investigative adventure traveler and author John L. Stephens visited the ruins of Mayapan back in 1840 and mentioned it in his two volume books entitled INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL IN YUCATAN, which is amazingly still in print and selling well to this day.
Here is a brief excerpt from that book that we consider to be a must read;
Page 72
The ruins of Mayapan cover a great plain, which was at that time so overgrown that hardly any object was visible until we were close upon it, and the undergrowth was so thick that it was difficult to work our way through it. Ours was the first visit to examine these ruins. For ages they had been unnoticed, almost unknown, and left to struggle with rank tropical vegetation; and the major domo, who lived on the principal hacienda, and not seen them for twenty-three years, was more familiar with them than any other person we could find. He told us that within a circumference of three miles, ruins were found, and that a strong wall once encompassed the city, the remains of which might still be traced through the woods.
Mayapan like almost all the other Mayan ruins have been looted, plundered and pillaged for the past four plus centuries and I find it most incredible that any ornate work such as this still remains on site.
This is just a faint glimpse at the great glory that so lovingly adorned the home of a people that haunt these sacred grounds to this very day.
Digital photography has opened the door to us for recording these memorable events.
We can only witness but a few of the 4,000 plus structures that make up Mayapan.
From the top of this pyramid the Yucatan jungle may still appear much as it did to those intellectual, intelligent and clever builders of these colossal structures countless centuries ago.

After your visit to Mayapan just walk out to the road and catch the first bus or taxi-van headed north back toward Mérida and get off at Acanceh.

This story continues at Acanceh with captioned photos;
This is quiet peaceful little Acanceh’s central plaza from left to right; ancient Mayan pyramid, colonial Spanish church, recent municipal market and in the foreground an open air flea market and tricycle taxis.
At the crowded market on this lively side-street tricycle taxis and street vendors abound as life goes on at an unhurried pace.
Business had bustled early as vendors sold out their prepared tamales to be consumed hot at home. At noon the market place is slowing its pace headed for the lunch hour and siesta time enjoyed leisurely swinging in a comfortable hammock patiently awaiting the hot afternoon sun to sink low casting long shadows and easing the heat of a tropical day.
Diminutive Acanceh is just close enough to Mérida to feel the impact of a daily commute so the municipality has lost much it its small town shopping charm to the big cities faster pace.
Local color of old world charm is still alive and well in this tiny little open air market kitchen. Savory enticing cooking aromas that waft through the marketplace originate here sending irresistible subliminal messages to come and partake.
Street vendors offer things of importance to the locals and even frivolous curiosities of questionable use.
The Mayan staff of life, the corn (maize) tortilla is sold hot and ready to eat by the kilo. Unfortunately the above tortillas are made from some ersatz ready ground corn product called Maseca that smells and tastes like wet cardboard. This product casts unfavorable suspicion as to its composition. Could it be that this is just ground up old corn-cobs and not really corn at all?
The conquistadors didn’t manage to take down all of the Mayan pyramids quarrying them for their stone in a zealous quest to erect churches.
This particular pyramid situated on the town central plaza somehow partially escaped that fate. Judging from the Spanish Inquisition colonial period construction many Mayan structures had to have fallen prey to the pirating of their stone. Though the Spaniards efforts met with huge successes across Mexico judging by the outrageous numbers of cathedrals, they didn’t have 100% success.
A pagan style pageant of marchers are led by this Mexican Saint of Guadalupe that prepares to leave the church with banners flying and many local labor unions are represented on the flamboyantly painted banners to receive the church’s blessings.
As the pageant of marchers unfolds its gaudy banners and takes to the street the size of the little towns assemblage becomes apparent. The brassy out-of-tune horn sends ear splitting sour notes echoing around town with a grating brain battering barrage of blasts.
This is our view from our tricycle taxi as we traverse this typical side street on our way to visit a second Mayan pyramid several blocks from the city center. Young and old, walkers and riders fill all the little streets on market mornings.
The city of Acanceh has sprung up around the remains of this ancient Mayan pyramid that somehow miraculously has survived four hundred years of looting for its stones as a building materials repository.
Looking down from the top of the scruffy scrawny and puny little picked over pyramid you see our tricycle taxis patiently awaiting our return.
This pyramid behind the one in the city center shows serious signs of looting for building materials but the remains are being preserved as best they can by an agency of the federal government.
This is one of several plaster frescos restored and un-covered on the pyramid adjacent to the central plaza zócalo.
Even this beautifully bedecked young bride arrives at the church on her wedding day in a tricycle taxi.
Our Mérida bus is parked across the open plaza in the background.
Across the street from the central plaza is this colorfully quaint cocina-economica removed in time by a century or two where we are treated to a savory eating extravaganza Yucatan style at a right price.
Helga Stürmer our visitor from Germany and my wife Jane eagerly sample the local specialties. Helga’s comment; “this is the real Mexico!”
Our German friends are happy to be the only visitors at the ruins of Mayapan and also here in Acanceh after a week over at the tourist-packed “Costa-Maya” on the Caribbean coast.
This poorly kept monument in the city center speaks volumes of the plight of the ancient Mayan who were the original inhabitants of Acanceh.
Ironically the Mayan interpretation of the name “Acanceh” is “dying deer”…how very fitting!
This is the bus we arrived on but we returned to Mérida by taxi-van which is much quicker.
In the background behind the bus is the cocina-economica we enjoyed so very much.
This easy and convenient bus day-trip out of Mérida is one of our all-time favorites.

Kaxil Kiuic, Yucatan

THE PUUC HILLS ADVENTURE
MERIDA / TICUL / OXKUTZCAB / KIUIC / YAXHACHEN / XUL / MERIDA
A months worth of activities crammed into just 5 days by bike, bus and on foot.
The following adventure is told by captioned photos;
My wife Jane and I began this adventure with a 7 kilometer bike ride from our home in Merida to the downtown bus terminal where we packed our bikes in the cargo hold for the nearly due-south 65 kilometer bus ride to Ticul. (Above is Ticul’s central plaza.)In an up-scale coffee shop on the zocolo the owner, Luis Echeverria plays typical Yucatecan troubadour ballads. Luis happens to be director of the famous Ticul artisan’s ceramic center, (Arte Maya) where reproductions of ancient Mayan art works are produced indistinguishable from the originals.
One of Ticul’s many pottery shops catering to the tourist trade featuring gaudy paint jobs.
Bicycles, tricycle taxis and cars daily pack the streets around the central market area.
Lunch at a side street “cocina-economica” turns out to be the best of the trip and the price and quality were only topped by the service.
With our bicycles parked outside the window we partake of an eating extravaganza and wonder why we don’t have anything as sumptuous as this in Merida.
Low-key and unassuming the Zazil Restaurant owner doesn’t need glitter and glitz to attract his patrons just his fabulous cuisine.
Our laid-back accommodations in Ticul at Posada El Jardin situated on a quiet side street had only 4 apartments all appointed with genuine antiques and nestled under towering shade trees where the only sounds were from nature. Crickets by night and song birds by day added a special tranquility so very rare in this day and time.
This is our quiet cool cabin at the Posada el Jardin under the ancient trees nestled in dense tropical foliage and adorned with rustic area relics. After all of our many trips to Ticul over the years we finally found this unique little hide-away that suited our love of nature perfectly.
One of many street venders nightly in the zocalo featured fried everything.
The packed streets of day yield to a quiet and easy going evening atmosphere.
After 25 plus years of exploring the Yucatan highways we find yet another place to travel and are off to Dzan at first light in the morning when this end of the planet is cool and inviting.
San Isidro patiently stands aside as the three century old colonial church of Dzan is refurbished.
Church icons are stuffed in the back room hoping to be put back by Easter Sunday.
The little town of Dzan is surprisingly immaculate and well kept. Parking is no problem with a conspicuous lack of motor vehicles.
One of many different ancient frescos adorning the church walls that was very curious.
The facade of the three century old church facing west features a number of building stones with glyph carvings from the ancient Mayan temple it is built from.
Twelve kilometers down the quiet country road from Dzan is Mani. Mani is well known for the fact that this is where the sacred Mayan codices were destroyed by bishop Landa in 1557 just fifteen years after the founding of Merida.
Gold leafed glitter adorns the pious simulation of some Catholic ritual of this symbolic church that was one of the very first to be erected at Mani using more than 6,000 Mayan slaves.

Through these arches and court yard is the atrium where Landa burned the Mayan artifacts in 1562.
Glitzy glittering adornments and an enormous church now stand where a Mayan temple stood in this unusual little town that has the phenomenal distinction of being continuously inhabited for the past 4,000 years.
Under the shade of some kind old tree we take a pause for our morning coffee break.
A real bicycle path, “cyclo-pista” takes off out of town and through the orange grove country on our way south to this days destination of Oxkutzcab.
Above is a reminder of a very hotly contested presidential election last July where the populist contender Andres Manual Lopez Obrador, (AMLO) claimed victory and thousands of supporters took to the streets around the country for months.
A real relic of the past this ancient colonial building still has its prominent and stately carved stone door jams that speak of a more elegant time in Yucatan. The building now suffers from apathetic neglect and even sports a cheap little Coca-cola sign.
In contrast to the times the above palapa house is the same exact style as those in use in Yucatan for more than several thousand years. Now there are electric poles and a paved street.
Oxkutzcab market in the morning where you can buy the local specialty of “vaporcitos” or tamales which are chicken meat immersed in corn meal and wrapped in a banana leaf then steam cooked. The large aluminum kettle on the table would be filled to the top with vaporcitos and quickly sells out.


Parked at the zocalo and across the street from our hotel are the two buses that run every day from Oxkutzcab up into the Puuc hills with a final destination of Yaxhachen, a town of 2,800 which is the end of the road with only jungle surrounding it.
The bus driver with blue cap and white shirt keeps the ancient bus miraculously rolling along these winding country roads and up and down the steep hills in spite of numerous missing parts and provisional repairs.
In a small village the little old lady patiently waits along side the road for the bus driver to deliver her meager bag of purchases from Oxkutzcab.
Oh my God! We made it bikes and all to the Mayan ruins of Kiuic. The rattling old wreck of a bus makes a smoky assent on its way up to its final destination of Yaxhachen. We are left out in the quiet wilderness with the precious commodity of fresh air something very rare in this world anymore.
Jane walks her bike down a hill too steep for her brakes and the loose gravel.
At Kiuic we are treated to hand made tortillas done by Juanita who has many hidden talents that include her abilities with painting. Her blouse is hand painted. Birds and local wildlife are her specialty because she was born here and this is all she knows of the world. There is no electric and the water must be hauled up from a very deep well making it very precious.
Our spacious jungle lodging at Kiuic is eco-friendly with solar powered lighting.
This gigantic bromeliad is at our front door. All of the vegetation in this reserve is natural and uncultivated.
In 1840 the world renowned explorer and classic writer John Lloyd Stephens and his associate Catherwood, an illustrator who sketched many of the interesting ancient artifacts of the Yucatan and Central America actually stayed here in what remains of this palapa house.

This is one of the sketchings that Catherwood did in his 1840 visit to Kiuic and labeled it the “casa real” or royal house. I believe that Catherwood must have been a real rascal to name this place the royal house but judging from close scrutiny of his drawings I have found out that he had an idle mind and took delight in putting into his drawings many hidden faces…take a look?
This old wooden hammock fastener still protruding from the palapas wall of the “casa real” that more than likely was used by Stephens and Catherwood in their 1840 visit.
A new addition to the Kiuic reserve is this wooden tower perched high atop one of the Puuc hills that is 200 meters above sea-level. I am looking down from the top at Jane waving from ground level.
On top the tower at sunset, Jane, Monika Francais and John Grimsrud.
Monika and her husband Ariel Francias atop the tower enjoying the precious natural view with not a trace of civilization to be seen across the panoramic vista of the Puuc hills.
The wild Puuc hills with no roads out there only foot paths through this milpa country.
The director of the Kiuic reserve and our instructive guide, James Callaghan.
The sun slips over the western Puuc hills ending a beautiful day in one of the last pristine places on the planet earth at the Kiuic reserve.
Day two of our Kiuic adventure after a hardy breakfast our walking tour takes our group out past this entry sign carved from the local zapote wood. Zapote is a tree that played a big part in Yucatan yielding a white sap that is used in the making of chewing gum. Its wood is so enduring that wooden lintels in Mayan ruins countless years old still last to this day untreated in any way. The fruit of this tree also known as custard apple is fabulously delicious but delicate and does not ship well. Kaxil=forest and Kiuic=plaza and thus you have the forest plaza or gathering place.
James Callaghan, our guide and lecturer enthralls the group with mind stimulating and enlightening information. This is one of the many ancient Mayan structures that fill the woods around the Kiuic preserve.
A photo-op of our tour group in front of one of the classic ruins at Kiuic.
This 1840 drawing of Kiuic done by Catherwood clearly demonstrates the damage done by the intrusion of the rank jungle foliage whose roots upturn and destroy these elegant structures many of which have endured through the centuries.
International diversity representing the International Woman’s Club Merida; Jane, Cynthia, Lennie and Monika.
This is all that remains of the dwelling from the 1840 drawing made by Catherwood.
Jane and John Grimsrud the only members of the group to arrive and leave by bicycle.
This structure was abandoned while still under construction which could have been less than five-hundred years ago. Note the semi-aired tall forest unique to Yucatan.
Juanita who was born and has lived her life here at Kiuic visits us at our lovely jungle cabin. Her palapa home is adjacent to our cabin. She demonstrates some of her artistic talents on her hand stitched blouse.
This hand sketched drawing of the Mexican Virgin of Guadalupe adorns the front of her humble but comfortable home.


Above are two sketches adorning the front of Juanita’s palapa home and her self taught talent for art is remarkable.
Done on paper Juanita’s unique style has a priceless quality nor to be found elsewhere.
These drawings are depictions of flora and fauna found here in the high-dry jungle country of the Puuc hills.
Jane and Juanita stand in front of Juanita’s cooking house made of poles and plastered inside with the red sticky local clay abundant here in the Puuc hills. No materials are imported for palapa home construction that is the same today as it was over thousands of years here in Yucatan.
This is the main plaza in Yaxhachen, in Mayan meaning new-water-well. This pavement only goes two more city blocks and quits. Yaxhachen is the end of the road with only foot paths through rolling hills where the locals plant their corn and calabasas.
Paula above looking is at photos from our previous visit and below her husband Adalio home from a very hard 16 hour day of harvesting honey from his milpa out in the Puuc hills. These are the lovely people whose home we will stay at this evening in Yaxhachen.
Above are two of Paula and Adalio’s daughters and little grand daughter in front of their palapa home.
Adalio at his front door with his tri-cycle that he uses to transport his crops to and from his milpa fields. They have no motor vehicles and make little impact upon the environment. However their form of agriculture is slash and burn and soon they will torch the fields to make ready for spring planting with the upcoming rainy season that begins in June.
In recent years hi-powered chemicals have been introduced into the planting of crops that may have a severe impact upon the health of these people that take no precautions with the handling and storage of these very toxic compounds.
In the above photo stacked at the front door are toxic chemicals used in agriculture that emit noxious fumes that made Jane and I nauseous just spending one night here. To add to this witches brew of stinking lethal chemicals Adalio burned in a smoldering fire that went all night plastic bottles, bags and any other packaging that they didn’t know how to dispose of. As a net result Jane and I passed one of the most miserable sleepless nights of our lives here and ran for our lives before the sun had risen. Poor Paula, Adalio’s wife was suffering grave consequences of this chemical poisoning.
This evening before quitting time Adalio and I have many laughs entertained by the friends and relatives, acquaintances from our previous years visit that came by to joke and reminiscence with us.
On the road leaving Yaxhachen at first light in the morning after a sleepless night Jane and I bike through the beautiful Puuc hills that lifts our sagging spirits on our way to Xul.
Note the spelling on the sign; “no “H” after the x, you have to use your imagination when reading the maps and road signs…the standard is that there is no standard.
Early morning is worth the effort for biking here in Yucatan especially this season when the afternoon temps are on the rise. Note the conspicuous lack of motor vehicles.
As luck would have it we loaded our bicycles aboard a open pick-up truck with benches used as second class transportation here in the out-back of Yucatan and rode all the way down to Oxkutzcab from Xul. This turned out to be a good choice after our sleepless night and the view was stupendous from our perch crammed in with a load of friendly passengers.
Note; In Yucatan the word for all buses is camion, which in Spanish means truck and may have originated from the fact that these open trucks are so common for people transport in out-back Yucatan.
Our rollercoaster ride through the Puuc hills in the back of the “camion”, bus we rode to Oxkutzcab gave us another prospective of life in the out-back away from traffic and city pollution.
Our arrival at Oxkutzcab and downloading the bikes from our little “camion” or bus. Next it will be to the big bus terminal and on to Merida after breakfast in the market.
At the bus terminal to greet us is one of the tri-cycle taxi drivers who remembers us from a previous visit when he got lost transporting our friend Jane Morley to the hotel. This guy is special. He adorns his tri-cycle taxi with these paintings that he so artfully paints.
At the ADO, Autobuses de Oriente terminal where we will load our bicycles and bus back to Merida is this advertisement. What the sign effectively says is; “Mr. Que Mas” (A play on words, que mas =what more, but run together quemas means burns.)This is the burning season (here in Yucatan) so, get some distance so you don’t burn!
Well that is exactly what Jane and I plan to do and in a couple of weeks we will be on a ship headed for Europe with bicycles.
In our five days on the road we pack in a month worth’s of activities.
When we arrive in Merida we will still have a bicycle ride equal to our morning ride through the Puuc hills from Yaxhachen to Xul just to get from the bus terminal to our home.
March 26-30, 2007

Tecoh, Yucatan

TECOH, ANOTHER BACK COUNTRY DAY-TRIP IN YUCATAN
Jane and I have been making a point to take at least one adventure excursion of exploration in Yucatan each week by bus, bicycle and occasionally just bike or bus.
We looked at the map and decided that Mani a Mayan village continuously inhabited for the past 4,000 years would be our next day-trip adventure.
We had the bus schedule and would take departure at 8:30AM from the downtown terminal at Calle 50 x 67 where the brand-x buses leave from.
A couple of friends eagerly wanted to join us and we were all early to converge at the terminal.
Jane and I were first to arrive and went to buy our tickets. Surprise! Our 8:30 bus to Mani wouldn’t leave until 9:30.
Plan “B”;
Next bus out!
The decision was unanimously made with our adventuresome foursome…get our tickets and ride to the end of the line…wherever that might be.
So, at 8:10 AM Jane and I plus our daring risk-taking traveling companion friends Maria Laur and Thalia Doerzbecker were rolling second class out of town…destination Tecoh?
Where in the world was Tecoh?
We got out our map to find out where our adventure bus would dump us.
What a pleasant surprise!
It turns out that Jane and I had passed through quaint little Tecoh countless times and always commented that this was a place we both had secretly desired to explore.
We said; “Some day we will have to come and explore this uniquely interesting place not mentioned in any tourist tracts”.
We bounced along through serene Mayan villages and past ancient haciendas picking up and discharging smiling friendly inhabitants of these neat little clean rural communities filled with chirping birds and flowering shade trees.
It was another pleasant Yucatan morning in this dominative charming nearly never visited gem called Tecoh that greeted us with its peaceful passive streets abounding with unrushed bicycles, tricycle taxis and pedestrians on foot.
Tecoh was literally a breath of fresh air with its conspicuous lack of motor vehicles.
To merely say the place was serene would be a gross understatement…it was a step back into time long ago forgotten and passed over by the go-fast gas-guzzling yuppie class.
We had found a true treasure and a real jewel in Tecoh.
This seemingly tranquil little town had a central plaza more than two blocks long with a church from early colonial times prominently placed upon the north side.
The old church is sitting upon the remains of a gigantic former Mayan temple in a seeming attempt to silence the gods of old that the indigenous Mayan so proudly cherished.
Adjacent to the colonial gray stone church was a soccer field sport park and next to that an inviting tree shrouded park with a public area. This is where a traveling carnival was busily assembling its very home-made kiddy rides that were resurrected from long dead junked-out automobiles and such. All this was within the central park or “zócalo”.
The quiet ambiance and sparklingly clean and clear air we felt immediately purged our bodies and souls of Merida’s big-city hustle and bustle.
We disembarked our bus on the south side of the zócalo…this was the end of the line and it was 9:20 AM.
Our foursome instinctively meandered around over to the south side of the zócalo that was in the shadowy shade of the intense tropical sun.
Another thing that was conspicuous about Tecoh was its immaculate cleanliness in every detail. I can remember back some 30 years when Merida was clean and quiet like Tecoh still is today.
On the shady south side of the zócalo along with numerous small businesses is located the brightly and neatly painted two story municipal building gleaming rosy-buff with white trim.
This was our first stop.
We naturally meandered into the open arched foyer with its mirror polished ornately adorned French Colonial floor tiles that dated back 150 years to the Emperor of Mexico, Maximilian.
It was a pleasant surprise to be the only tourists in town. Tecoh’s town-folk were all so happy and eager to greet us with big friendly welcoming cordial smiles.
This is the shady side of the zócalo with the municipal building at right. We, like the Yucatecans, get all the sun we want by accident and instinctively head for the shade
Tecoh’s very clean meticulously kept and friendly municipal building. Jane at the right.

Here is the view from Tecoh’s municipal building second floor balcony looking over the south side of the zócalo.
This is the view from Tecoh’s municipal building roof top looking north across the zócalo to the old colonial church perched upon the base of a former Mayan temple with the tree shrouded park in the foreground.
Tecoh’s quietly bustling municipal “mercado” or market with Maria Laur our back-country day-trip traveling companion at right.
Inside Tecoh’s mercado Maria selects fresh fruits for our AM park picnic.
At the mercado is the medicine man. He has the eager audience captivated into psychosomatic ailments that he will cure with his secret herbs and mystic potions. Jane is at right for the photo-op. Note; the typical “huipil” native dress of the Mayan ladies.
Our adventuresome traveling companions Thalia Doerzbacher and Maria Laur enjoying some of our purchases from the mercado at coffee break time at our zócalo park picnic.
The climb up the base of the ancient Mayan temple to the old colonial Spanish church still speaks volumes of the thousands of years of Mayan culture trumped by the conquistadors who have ruled for nearly 500 years now.
More photo-ops from the top of the centuries old colonial church where the view is awesomely spectacular.
View looking across the zócalo park toward the municipal palace from the top of the old church at the quiet little unrushed town of Tecoh. 500 years ago this view from this very spot would have been from the peak of a Mayan temple.
Jane and John atop the church at Tecoh under the powerful tropical Yucatan skies.
The director of tourism for Tecoh Javier Francisco Acosta Carrillo the official “director of turismo” who is promoting a 25 kilometer off-road bicycle trail that visits 13 cenotes and caves. Caves are known here as grutas. The route begins and ends at Tecoh. I told him it should be named “The Gruta Ruta”. Below Javier commuting around town by bicycle…this is bicycle country.
Thalia and Jane entering the one of many area caves, (grutas).
Tecoh’s bicycle busy streets are quiet and have almost no obnoxious auto emissions.
This is the friendly open-air kitchen at our lunch stop after our tricycle taxi city tour.
At our restaurant known as a “cocina economica” this lady grinds hot chili peppers in a “molcajete” as she prepares lunch over a wood fire in the traditional style of the indigenous. Our meal was sumptuously superb and the quantity amply generous.
John’s savory cooked to a turn lunch cost a mere 25 pesos and generously appeased his ravenous hunger.

Our adventuresome little group was on our way back to Merida by 3 PM.
We wouldn’t miss the stimulating fun-filled experience of riding the slow local bus out of town visiting many quaint villages along quiet local roads. But we enjoyed a quick return trip to Merida aboard a speedy colectivo taxi that bypassed the quaint villages and cut the ride time in half heading home on a hot afternoon when our hammocks beckoned.
Afternoons in Yucatan are made for hammocks.
We are still heading to Mani so stay tuned for more adventure excursions of exploration in Yucatan.