First stop Valladolid 30 March to 1 April

We are now a couple of days into the Mexico part of our trip, and it feels like a good time to take stock of where we are at. 

Before I start, it’s important to acknowledge that Mexico is the 15th biggest economy in the world, and when we arrived here 15 years ago after travelling through Central America and Cuba for 4 months we were convinced we were in Switzerland, it felt so developed. Coming the other way, however, Mexico does feel a bit like a bridge between the US and the developing world, and entirely different to anything our girls had experienced before. 

In any case, there is something so special about travelling to places which are really different from whatever your ‘normal’ is. It is a special kind of buzz, one that we don’t get from travelling to similar western and especially English speaking countries. The smell of street food, fires and rubbish; the sound of motorbikes laden with multiple generations zipping down the streets; the sight of brightly coloured buildings standing in contrast to the dirt roads and loose electricity wires, the stray dogs, the street hawkers and just the general population sitting or standing on the sides of the streets; the feel of the heat that seems too often accompany these kinds of locations. 

There is the language, and the joy of being entirely incompetent but enthusiastic in trying to achieve the most basic things; and sheer joy at seeing the kids have the confidence to be able to order meals and ask for directions themselves. 

Then there is the inefficiency which makes my productivity-consultant’s head spin and Liz’s desire to run to time go into a tailspin. Things here work differently, and time seems to have a completely different meaning – a failure to embrace this fact and drive to an Australian timeframe will lead to frustration and failure. 

And all this before you even get to the main reason we chose to come here – the astounding natural beauty and incredible Mayan history in this area of the world. That, and we wanted to give the girls a bit of a different culture experience, without scaring the hell out of them. 

One other reflection here before I get back on track – driving here is an adventure and a bit of a treat, but really feels like we’re cheating. We get to do things on our timeframe, we are not at the mercy of some indicative bus timetable, we don’t have to walk long distances in the humid heat, we get to avoid the worst of the crowds and minimise our exposure to (some of the) hawkers, and (to our significant detriment) we are sheltered from way too much of the local population. Hire cars are great, but a large part of me wants to be on buses with the locals, and I think the kids would ultimately love this too, but we would need a lot more time – and Jessie would need a lot more patience. 

But I’m getting all reflective and ahead of myself. 

We’re going back to the highly efficient and enjoyable Phoenix, where it was 6am and the alarm had just gone off. We bundled our now extremely efficient children into the car with military precision – they have all become genuinely capable at organising, managing, packing and unpacking their stuff over the last few weeks. I guess moving every day will teach them that. 

We made our way through the efficient freeway system to the car hire drop at the airport. We hardly had time to unpack the car before the attendant took the keys and bid us on our way. No paperwork. We boarded the brand new SkyTrain which whipped us around the airport complex to our terminal and deposited us just outside the American Airlines self-check in area. We seamlessly checked ourselves in, dropped our bags off and did not break stride through security. The first time we stopped was at the coffee queue outside the gate, and only then because we had so much time to burn having gone through everything else so quickly. America was showing us just how well things could be done for our departure. 

A quick side note here before I continue. I travelled about 3 weeks a month when we lived in New York years ago, almost all on American Airlines. It was not a pleasant experience with old planes, surly flight attendants, frequent delays and no food. As a result, we were not looking forward to our flight this morning. 


We were shocked when the flight attendant checked us in at the gate with a big smile and cracked jokes at us and the other passengers. As we boarded our brand new Airbus, we were ushered aside by another stewardess, who asked if the girls would like a photo in the cockpit. 

Really? We said – we hadn’t heard of that since pre 9/11 days. 

Yes! So good! 

We then made our way to our spacious seats, plugged in to the free entertainment, watched a movie and had a free drink. No food, but that was no surprise and we had come prepared. 

Best. Flight. Ever. 

American Airlines had redeemed itself, and made up for the countless hours of uncomfortable seats and  little bags of stale pretzels. 

We came off our flight buoyed and exited to experience Mexico with the kids. Sure, it wasn’t really developing world, and we were going to the well-travelled side (the Yucatan), but it would still feel different. 

We were immediately reminded of the fact that we had quit the US when we hit arrivals… and waiting in line for 90 mins to clear customs. It turns out just long enough for Sienna to learn her 6 and 7 times tables (which I think she has subsequently forgotten). We finally got into the country, grabbed our bags and hit the zoo which is the hire car area, and went to the Enterprise desk to pick up our car. 

[in bad Spanish] Can we pick up our hire car please? 

[exasperated humph] No, you’re late. We’ve given your car to someone else. 

[in English now, as my Spanish does not stretch this far] But we’ve been waiting in customs! 

[exasperated humph from staff member, ending our conversation]

Luckily there is no shortage of cars at Cancun airport, and we were quickly able to procure another one from the arrivals desk and negotiate a better deal than we had previously. We were given a slip of paper to take to the rental desk, and sent in the direction of a bus. We caught the bus to the rental office, and handed over our slip of paper. We filled out some more papers, and spoke to 2 other people. Paid some money, provided some ID. Sent to another location. Told to wait outside. About 45 mins later, our slightly beat up but otherwise serviceable Nissan X-Trail pulled up. Ellie immediately lamented the departure of our Q7, but we were just happy to have a car and hit the road inland to Valladolid and Chichen Itza. 

Driving in Mexico is a bit more like wacky races than the US, mainly because of the motorbikes that are everywhere, and the fact that lane markings are at best advisory. Despite this, the roads are better than most places we saw in Nevada and, once we got out of the airport district in Cancun, it was an incredibly straight run to Valladolid, where we arrived about an hour after dark.

Valladolid is a wonderful, colonial looking town that reminded us of Antigua in Guatemala. It is full of brightly coloured buildings and has a stunning central square/park overlooked by a beautiful church. It is the gateway to Chichen Itza and a heap of cenotes (part of the Yucatan underground waterways, these are waterfilled, limestone caves, where the roof may or may not have fallen in). 

We dumped our stuff in our lovely colonial style hotel, secured the car and went out for dinner at a place we’d spied on the way in. We had our first Mexican dinner, listened to some live music and had a ‘adults v kids’ debate on whether drugs should be legalised or not. 

Chichen Itza  – one of the 7 wonders of the world – was our one shot at Mayan ruins with the kids. We weren’t planned to over burden them on this trip as we didn’t want them to come out hating it. Liz has a real passion for Mayan culture and this was her 3rd trip to the region. The kids had been introduced to the history of this incredible sight courtesy of a number of podcasts that we played over the last few days, and they were excited about what lay ahead. 

Just like Disneyland, Liz had a plan for Chichen Itza. It involved an early start from Valladolid to beat the heat and the tour buses coming from further afield. We would get a guide to make the most of our time there and would dangle the promise of cooling off in a cenote when the kids got too hot. 

We executed with precision, and arrived at the sight just as it opened. 

We found our guide and made our way to El Castillo/Pyramid of Kukulcan, the wonderful 55m stepped pyramid with it’s 7 levels and 91 steps on each of it’s 4 sides, leading to a single step at the temple on top – giving 365 steps, one for each day of the year. At the base of the steps is a snake head – the head of Kukulcan. On the equinox, the shadow from the pyramid forms a perfect slithering snake down the structure. It was built entirely using human labour and without use of the wheel. 2 sides have been largely restored and it is truly awe inspiring. 

Just across from El Castillo is the ball court, where Mayans played a 7 aside game of ball – where they tried to get a 3.5 kg ball through a 20 foot high hoop using only their shoulders, hips and knees. Think Quidditch, but without the brooms and Golden Snitch. The winning Captain (or maybe the losing one) had the honour of being sacrificed. Yay! The 7 players per team is believed to represent the 7 pleiades.

There are a heap of other ruins on the sight, including a cenote where they deposited the bodies of those sacrificed and an observatory where the Mayans mapped the stars with incredible precision for their time.

After 2.5 hours of Mayan history and with it getting harder and harder to escape the 35 degree heat or the busloads of crowds streaming in, we made our escape, navigated through the acres of gift shops, back to the car and onwards to ‘Ik Kil’ for our first cenote experience.

We parked the car in the ominously large but near empty car park, and paid our $100 entrance fees, still not 100% sure what to expect. We had seen photos, but $100 still seemed pretty steep to go for a swim. We made our to get our life jackets (obligatory), stash our stuff in a locker (obligatory) and have a shower (obligatory). It felt a bit like they were stretching things out just to justify the price. 

Finally we made our way down some stairs to a below ground viewing platform of the cenote. Vines covered the sheer limestone walls and the sun streaming in and glistening off the crystal clear water below. 

‘I think I’m going to cry’ said Jessie. Pretty much summed it up. Worth the price of admission at ten times the price. 

We made our way down to the pool. For the first hour or so we shared the cenote with about 10 others, floating in the warm water, marvelling at the rock formations and vegetation, and jumping off platforms of various heights. 

In no time at all, Ellie was jumping off the highest platform. Jessie literally took it one step at a time, before she had jumped off all 15 and was throwing herself off from the top with a cry of ‘1, 2, 3, Hup!’ (in a throwback to trapeze school in Byron Bay). Sienna also got in on the action, throwing herself off ever higher steps with gusto. 

Genuinely one of the most special places we have ever visited, and words can not do it justice. 

As we left, the tour buses were pulling in, and we imagine the cenote being lit up with more fluoro orange life vest than crystal clear water. ‘Tourist soup’ we thought, certainly not for the last time during our time in Mexico. 

Our last night in Valladolid was spent eating excellent tacos across from the main square, having a drink and watching the sunset from an awesome rooftop bar, and then watching the kids enjoy local crepes and churros whilst listening to music in the park. 

We felt fulfilled, relaxed and incredibly grateful to have had the experience of the last 24 hours, and to be able to share this with the girls. Tomorrow we would leave Valladolid and head west towards the coast. We would pick up a couple of cenotes en route, before setting up camp in Tulum, one of our favourite backpacker hotspots from 15 years ago. 

Last time we had meant to stay for 2 days and had been stuck in Tulum for a week, enchanted by the picture-perfect turquoise blue water, tropical palms and sparkling white sand. Liz (still remembering evenings spent ensconced in her hammock) had even managed to find us rooms at the same hotel that we stayed at last time around. 

We were sad to be leaving Valladolid, but excited to be heading to Tulum and showing the kids the Caribbean.