OR, IN THE WOODS AGAIN. NOT MUCH TO SHOW EXCEPT THOSE AUTUMN COLOURS.
Below is my personal award to Westminster City Council :
‘THE BIG TIT MUSHROOM IN SHIT‘ AWARD.
Mushroom booby look alike goes to Westminster City Council
I wrote this a while back and couldn’t finish it as my laptop kept crashing! I’m back at Mayfair library and all Westminster City Council system has been hacked, but gloriously they still have Wi-Fi. This a source of great amusement today as I have been going on the demos against digital ID for the last few weeks now, its even made the cover (finally) of our local ragWest End Extra.
This post is months late due to a particularly chaotic patch in my life (yes, more than normal!) I’m back on course now so here we go with last of Mexico posts and a follow up with my floods, buggered back, wonderful acupuncture with my old Chinese professor and a dreadful trip to Spain!
It was no good, I was running out of time. I had stayed many days in Homun and spent many happy hours understanding what your best life can be like and it definitely was here. After my birthday and the visit to Neekluum followed by a massive hangover, I started to feel the call of the road again. I would need to go back to Merida by the collectivo then go on to catch an ADO to Valladolid, there I would spend the night and then go on to Cancun for some beach before leaving to London. It was a boring awkward trip and I managed to fuck it up and hate it in equal proportions.
Happy by the tree of life in Homun. Leaving was agony for me.
Obviously leaving my new family was awkward and traumatic. As all solo travellers will know, when you bond on the road it’s surprisingly difficult saying your goodbyes. The flowing conversation evaporates and foolish clichés creep in to the stilted conversation and dragging silences. That’s why I always plump for a rapid running away with just a shout over my shoulder of ‘tata, love you!’ and just my vague outline scurrying off in a dust cloud that envelopes me. This was impossible with Dulce and Aleph as they were giving me a lift in the bicycle taxi to the town centre and Dulce was dragging her heels having got more maudlin and glum than me if that’s possible. We cuddled and whimpered and went to do another unnecessary task before repeating the hugging. It was truly awful and terribly upsetting even when I wrote obscenities in their guest book at their childlike request. ‘Say that thing you said about that man with the tequila!’ they implored. I looked at them doubtfully ‘With all the swearing ?’ I asked nervously. Yes yes they wanted that. They looked at me with joyful expectant faces so I wrote some foul language about the poor fellow (did we hate him that much?) . Then I had to write a list of silly Spanish expressions that I had used ad nauseum that they loved. With eyes sparking they revelled in those along with the initial loving comments I had made about their lovely little homestead business. Yeah, yeah that was all very well but they wanted all the potty mouth things that I said in English too and my mean comments about other innocent yet irritating guests. This filled up a good amount of time as they would remember other things that must go in, dodgy anecdotes et al, and would drag me back to scribble more.
OR, MY CHANCE AT SHRUGGING OFF PHOBIAS AND GETTING DARK AND DEEP.
Cenote, from the incorrect Spanish pronunciation of the Yucatan Mayan word ts’ono’ot (dzonot) or “well with water”. However these underground and sometimes over ground places (leading to the underground) were venerated magical and sacred sites used for ceremonies. Their Underworld was a place for death and life or xibalba, evoking the type of rebirth that I clumsily have tried to express, where you can grow your consciousness and overcome all the negative that has swamped your soul in the earthly realm. Where the Mayan Gods dwell.
Look at top of photo, only a thin amount of rock separates cave and house above
I love you all, my naughty old birds out there, let’s get to some more happiness and actually bravery on my behalf, a harsh climb down into the bowels of the earth to a magical cave without fairies but a whole bunch of mystical energy. You’ll have to use your imagination a whole load as it was too surreal for belief, and didn’t tolerate photos well. The fancy pics I’ve seen have been heavily doctored and certainly taken with a better camera than my dirty old phone one. It’s better for you to imagine this small cavern complex and derive the same chills and fierce energy through words and imagination.
OR YOU’LL NEED TO TAKE OUT A SECOND MORGAGE FOR THIS SAD SHOW
I really don’t know why I bothered apart from the excitement of a new city found up the road from Calakmul and Xpujil called Valeriana. Literally I thought that people would be able to amble in and I vaguely remembered security being lax around most sites, but more importantly there being a few gates of access. Not just the one.
By the way I’ve thrown in some random vids because I was aware of the rather negative content he he.
Things seemed so groovy and casual back in the day in Mexicos Yucatan and now it’s turned into little America but with military presence everywhere. It’s tragic how history repeats itself and the Latin Mexicans are busy victimising the indigenous groups and destroying just a little more of their homeland and also smashing down huge swathes of virgin jungle. Ooh the new president Claudia Sheinbaum, she’s so cool and green, although she’s not though is she?
See bottom of page for full howling experience!
Anyhoo, it would seem that the relationship with America will now be a sore topic so I doubt she will be giving any thought at all to other issues apart from building camps for the huge amount of deported Mexicans that are being deported. I suppose it will be ‘watch this space’ as to their policies with the States go from now on.
Calakmul. IN 2021 ALL CLOSED UP AFTER THEY LURE YOU IN.
The brief mention given in 21.
“This is another example of closed sections at famous pyramids. Another scam in times of ‘plague
OR,CHICANNA IN SPITTING DISTANCE OF BECAN, AND HORMIGUERO A RIGHT OLD TREK
The much lauded serpent portal but on the top of a high turret
HORMIGUERO A FORGOTTEN SITE IN MANY WAYS.
Three buildings very much like this
Whilst halfway through writing this I suddenly remembered that in fact my adventure started first thing in the morning with a booked cab that I had organised the day before to go to Horminguro dammit! You see what happens when you’re a bad, tired and grumpy old bird and don’t write your journal? I had totally forgotten poor old Hormiguero (Anthill) and possibly if you have a busy agenda so should you.
A few stacked Chaacs (rain gods) as well as many other motifs
I had in fact got very excited and planned this trip with a cabbie. I had heard it was a very unusual and nearly never visited set of ruins only partially excavated. What they mean to say is only the big interesting intact bits were bothered with and the place is a very shady quite sad place.
My impression was that the three misaligned very similar imposing structures, unimaginatively called South, Central and North Structures were almost like a bunch of bureaucratic beasts of the jungle. They are very sturdy and practical looking but they do surprisingly contain a lot of elaborately embellished doorways and panels. One also has the largest serpent doorway but that was up on high and the ground was slick with dew. I didn’t fancy a tumble so just took my images from below. If you were to come her I again would come for the atmosphere and maybe a walk in the jungle where there’s a lot of wildlife, I think you can even camp there which would be splendid!
I take it all back this was an amazing site
I just couldn’t shake my unfair immediate reaction to it being municipal and less Gormanghast and more Croydon, but then again I am very instantly judgemental about these things.
I have researched a bit but can’t get any straight answers except about what a lovely example of Chenes blah blah blah. I felt cheated although it was imposing in its own way but a bit boring and that was the reason I left early moaning to myself. On the way out I just had a nice chat to the two chaps who are its guardians but were very young and not a bit interested in its history or their ancestors work. This was annoying as I thought they might at least shed some light on its history. It was all rather sad and damp and dark and unloved.
OR, A BIT OF JUNGLE AND ATMOSPHERE AFTER THE NEWLY RUINED YUCATAN.
I’m not going to bang on today about the shit stuff that I experienced wandering around Mexico at the end of last year, oh I’m not a whiner, you know me better than that. Yesterday is yesterday, fair does.
Becán
While researching this I came across RománPiña Chan, a very famous archaeologist, a tragic afterthought in Mexican research history, specifically that of Becan where he had the accident on that ill fated day. I wanted to include him as he sounded a dear, meek man who suffered hugely for his passion. Bedbound for seventeen years after the spirits of Becan let him fall to his fate.
A unique quiet moment to enjoy the classical arched corridor
Below is his small obituary, as modest it would seem as he was, and although translated quirkily I feel fitting for the man who it seems also discovered the Olmec figures and contributed hugely to the field
✔ Posthumous tribute to the archaeologist in the National Museum of Anthropology
Piña Chan was a generous being and always needed know yourself loved and accepted, says Beatriz Barba
ത Locate the recent find in Becán, Campeche, as part of his legacy
JIMENEZ ARTURE
In 1984, Román Piña Chan fell from a pyramid from the archaeological zone of Becán, an accident that although not managed to remove him from the investigation, the reflection and teaching did limit their ability to move.
OR TRAVELLING TO A TOWN THAT’S LOST ITS IDENTITY AND HEART. POOR XPUHIL.
Me praying to the Mayan gods at Calakmul that no more damage would be done to their sacred land
Alert: Latest article about Tren Maya that proves what I say in the below account has turned out right! It’s white elephant era has begun surprisingly quickly! Don’t want to say I told you so but, I told you so he he!!! Apparently it’s being operated by the military? I don’t know about you but a military run tourist route never has left me with a warm and snuggly feeling in my belly as a traveller. Do read the article it’s accidently extremely funny. It also says
“Today, the Maya Train is not a tourist product that can be offered. There are no clear routes, there are no defined prices, not even the schedules are well established,” he commented noting that travel agencies have not yet had any contact regarding train promotion.
“If they had a developed product, they would be here at tourist events, explaining what time it leaves, how much it costs, in what languages it is available. But we don’t know anything, everything remains a mystery,”
In other words it’s a huge cock up!
Good old Trans Siberian Express an iconic train if ever there was one
Alert: Here I mostly ramble on about getting to the prime archaeological sites area and the place I used as a base, Xpujil or Xpuhil. The inner fury I felt upon having seen first hand, Tren Mayas long hard line of destruction and devastation of the area rather overtook my original intention of just writing about the sites that I went to. Mexico generally had been a shocker since my last visit and sadly you can clearly hear my disappointment in a place that just three years ago I had worshipped. If you don’t care then I will publish a post tomorrow about the actual sites I went to while there!
And so back to the post:
The Journey to Xpuhil
Me praying to the Mayan gods at Calakmul that no more damage would be done to their sacred land
Riding on the bus away from beastly Bacalar and started on my real road trip! Hooray I’m leaving and going to revisit Xpuhil to use as a base to visit surrounding archaeological sites that I missed last time. I celebrated on that bus to Chetumal after dragging my case miles from my little pension in the midday sun, and was ready to wait there for a couple of hours to get my connection. So in theory I should arrive at my cabin before it’s too late to feel safe, although it will be dark. Upon my joyous arrival (I had so hated Bacalar that any shit hole was now paradise!) I also found that I could buy an earlier ticket upon arrival the bus station, which was a huge relief, rather than the later one which would have involved me waiting five hours and much sighing and whining. However, I still had over an hour to kill and I was suddenly famished.
OR, FINALLY RETURNING TO MEXICO, AND FLYING AFTER ONE YEAR OF CLIPPED WINGS.
On the road again folks!
Hello my old birds! Sitting here with a big sloppy grin on my face after having finally purchased my ticket, booked a flat for the first eight days and got some Pesos in my trembling hands after two long years.
I’m very chirpy and, well, not really believing it. I’ve scraped together enough money if I starve a bit, for a month there. One week in my beloved Tulum for a little reconnaissance with old pals hopefully, and much needed beach, sun, swimming, mojitos and rest. It’s been a foul year so I really need this.
What my new accommodation might look like this time. Joking cave paintings near Mitla 2021
The angels approve as I don’t know if you’ve seen, but they’ve just discovered a huge ancient city in the jungle in Campeche area just ten minutes away from where I stayed in Xpuhil. This was on my road trip (bus trip) to as many sites as were open in the year of lockdown (you know what I think of that!) It was after the terribly disappointing trip to Palenque where they had closed the on site museum with all the real treasures in and herded us round a small circuit that was not very interesting to a pro like me. So a quick reminder below.
Wakey, wakey! Morning everyone! Well it is morning that’s for sure and I’m off to the gym, spa and yoga before lunchtime concert at the reference library, my temple now, my sacrosanct place of quiet and reflection. So without further ado off I trot with my new healthy lifestyle and philosophy.
Confucius He Say…..
After my previous months of confusion it’s more Confucius now, so it’s “Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart.” This was really my philosophy on my travels before but I lost essence of this by somewhat sneering at the small things, the small journeys and now I’m becoming humble again. In the quietening of my impatient brain I also had to remind myself ,“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.” I indeed have now accepted this so am learning from my tortuous sudden change in my life of speeding along maniacally. From my disappointment in not being able to achieve moving from London and its seemingly insurmountable obstacles in creating a new wild life in so much as a life in the wild it’s been more of a practical “The [wo]man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones” (surely learnt that in my garden in Turkiye.) And “If you make a mistake and do not correct it, this is called a mistake” I now do not just ignore my fuckups but go about trying to fix them. When whizzing about you can all too easily ignore your foolishness and stubbornly not really learn from it. And remember “The gem cannot be polished without friction, nor the man perfected without trials.” Yeah, I think we all have the hang of that one my darling old birds et al.
OR, TRAVELLING WITH MY NEW RAILCARD, BEING ANCIENT HAS SOME COMPENSATIONS. I have been missing as I’ve been working on the farmyard collection that I’m doing for a show while trying to write my book […]
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In 1984, Román Piña Chan fell from a pyramid from the archaeological zone of Becán, an accident that although not managed to remove him from the investigation, the reflection and teaching did limit their ability to move.
Old Bird Travels Solo! 