OR, I MISSED MY LAID BACK HUMAN TULUM!
There’s a lot to be said for a quick foray into other parts, and Merida and Uxmal were a good example. The atmosphere over in Yucks (Yucatan) is more aggressive and smacked slightly of London about the masks, apart from that it was lovely. However once leaving I had no qualms. I wanted to be back home in Tulum. I don’t want to be a baby about it but it’s the closest you can get to our old normal lives in this lovely place.
I wanted to do a speedy summary of Mexico’s art and history thus far. These links will help you locate stuff you’re more interested in
Before hunting, they would seek blessings from the god or spirit caretaker of animals by offering animal-shaped wood carvings as a replacement to the real animal. For instance, they offer a blyok-biyok or carved wooden pig in exchange for a wild boar.
‘Now all good. No problem’ he said. You’re sure this is going to be OK?’ I said squinting at him suspiciously.
I could imagine myself slumping around on a bejewelled divan groaning at the heat, and dipping my hand in to splash water on my face while inhaling sweet perfume from beautiful flowers I’m sure I had some fabulous palace in an earlier incarnation.
There are benches in the shade of the trees there that you can sit at, near the sprinklers that constantly water the well groomed lawns and peruse the mastery of the instruments and ponder the mystery of the heavens.
Then there are the scammers who adore mature women travelling alone. They act like some kind of gigolos (Really? Have they even looked in a mirror?)
https://www.amazon.co.uk/photos/share/0RIXeCZVq9139zZ6gEV2CXdjkki1ETs7j1xPbr1OHR9 Happy days. And what I look forward to again in the near future. Onwards and upwards fellow travellers!
OR THE LAST LOOK AT MUSEUMS: THYSSEN-BORNEMISZA AND CAIXAFORUM MADRID THEN MORE AIRPORT HOTELS TALES
And here it was, my last day in Madrid. In the morning I would finally be going home after three months away. Tomorrow was to be a scary day. Home at last while Covid was just a twinkle in Wuhan’s eye. Home to mountains of mail and possibly some dead plants. Home to the familiar all unfamiliar now. Home to what would be, allsorts of shitstorms. Home to my gilded cage. (ironical to think we literally would be caged with the so called lockdown) Home to terrible dramas and discontent.
You don’t always have to be purist about any kind of art appreciation just enjoy it for what you see in it.
Old Bird Travels Solo! 