We slept and slept in as long as we wanted. When we got up, Jess cooked us some delicious omelets, the real kind that is folded over instead of scrambled.
We packed up and caught a bus to Celestún, which is on the Gulf of Mexico. As soon as we got onto the beach, Xie remembered that she is prone to seasickness on boats. She was very nervous to try the two and a half hour boat ride. But she did want to see the flamingoes and other birds. While we debated what to do, we watched the amazing birds right off the shore that were swimming and diving. There were brown pelicans, cormorants and magnificent frigate birds. The pelicans were the most striking — huge and doing crazy fish-diving maneuvers. Eventually Xie decided to risk the possibility of being trapped, nauseous, on the boat, in trade for the possibility of having a great time boating around and seeing birds.
The boat had eight passenger seats (two columns of four), permanently fixed, but slightly rotatable. There was a canvas cover, tied to a welded frame. The driver sat in the back, controlling the large outboard motor. We had nine passengers, so they brought on a regular wooden chair and put it in between the rear two regular passenger seats. Xie and CM sat in the second row from the front. In front of them were a young, hip Mexican couple (versace sunglasses, etc) that we later learned were from D. F. (Districto Federal, another name for Mexico City, pronounced as “de effe”, similar to calling the U. S. capitol D. C.). In row three was a French Canadian couple, and in the last row were Jess and another young Mexican couple that seemed to be freshly in love.
The boat drove really fast. The wind was intense, and according to Jess, the people in the back of the boat got wet from splashing waves. We passed long stretches of beach and unoccupied forest land, stopping for gas on the way. It was a nice ride, fast and bumpy, but good weather and beautiful land, water and birds. Frigate birds flew around in swarms overhead. Xie was super stoked to not be sick. There were two areas with piles of burning trash that we passed — very stinky.
Shortly after we turned the corner and started heading back east into the inlet where the flamingoes hung out, we stopped at a dead forest that was slowly being taken over by mangroves. It used to have cedar and oaks, but they died when the area was flooded by a hurricane. Many of the dead trees were still standing. (We now think that the swaths of dead trees we saw when we flew over near Cancún were probably hurricane damage as well.) We got out of the boat or a few minutes to take photos and wander around. The couple from D. F. forgot their camera, so they asked CM to take a photo of them and email it.
After getting back into the boat, we continued heading east. We slowed down to get a close look at some cormorants, who were sitting on some sticks that poked out of the water.
Then we continued on to look at the flock of flamemcos (flamingos). The flock was standing in shallow water. We had read about this being the largest flock in the world, so even though there were probably more than fifty birds, it seemed like a small group. Maybe the others were off somewhere else. We hovered about, taking lots of photos and getting good views through the binoculars. There were a few lighter birds, including at least one that had no pink at all.
(On this trip, we realized where the words for many kinds of dance come from. “Flamenco” means flamingo. “Merengue” means merange. “Salsa” means sauce.)
The people in the back of the boat kept egging the driver on to get closer, even though you were *not* supposed to get too close. Finally we scared the flock, and they all took off flying. It was magnificent to see, but by scaring them we were robbing them of precious eating time, and risking them damaging or even breaking their delicate necks.
After chasing the flamencos off, we boated on a path through the mangroves, which was pretty neat. There were signs telling that cutting the mangroves was prohibited.
Next, headed over to a “cenote”, scaring a large flock of coots on the way.
The cenote wasn’t really in a cave (literally, cenote means underground lake), but it was a large pool of fresh water, in a stream that was fed from an underground spring. Most people, including Jess, were having a refreshing swim. CM and Xie did not, because Xie did not have a place to change into her swim suit and CM because he had a hurt finger that he was being cautious to not get infected, so he hadn’t even brought a pair of swimming trunks that day.
There was a vendor selling cacahuetes (peanuts) with chili and lime on them. The couple from D.F. bought a little cup of them and passed them around on the boat for everyone to try. They were quite yummy and pica (spicy).
On the way back, we saw a fisherman in a small boat, pushing it along with a long pole. Our driver must have been a friend of his (or was just being a good samaritan), because he threw the fisherman a rope, which he tied to his boat. Then our boat went tearing off with him in tow, though not quite as fast as before (but nearly so). We were worried for the small fisherman’s rowboat, but they seemed to know what they were doing. Shortly after we slowed down to pass under the bridge, we noticed that the fisherman’s boat was gone.
The woman from the French Canadian couple was weird, in a super-friendly way. She had ok Spanish but wanted to talk to everybody. She was especially into the hip young couple up front. On the way back, she hobbled her way up to the front (it was hard to move at all on the bouncy, speedy boat) and said, “Now we are all going to sing a song.” She started with “Frere Jacques”, in French, English, Italian and Spanish. Xie didn’t know the English as well as she did the French. When she moved on to Alouette, we realized that we learned French songs in grade school, without really thinking about it. It was really hard to sing and next to impossible to hear above the roar of the boat racing along.
When we got back, we were hungry, so we looked for a place to eat. We picked a random restaurant from the several look-alike places along the beach. Interestingly, the couple from D.F. and then the French Canadian couple ended up at the same restaurant. We got coctel de camarones (CM), pescado con mojo de ajo (Xie) and another fish filet (Jess). Both fish dishes were excellent and the shrimp cocktail was ok.
We sat around for a bit, watching the different vendors come in to sell their desserts or cigars or wooden bowls to the restaurant patrons.
After that, we went for a walk up the beach and to take pictures of the sunset and its reflection, a rich golden orange against the turquoise green ocean and tawny sand.
When the sun had disappeared, we went to buy bus tickets and wait for the bus.
When we got back to Mérida, Beto met us to get helado de coco. We sat and played cards (hearts) for a while, then headed back to Jess’ apartment. On the way back, Beto and Jess made a detour to get some beans to put on to soak for making frijol con puerco the next day.
