A TAIL OF TWO CITIES
If you come to a fork in the road, take it.
Yogi Berra
In Mexico we have a word for sushi: bait.
Jose Simon
"We need a beach story Church, I'm sending you & Vicki B to Mexico to get one." Thus spoke Lee Ervin, editor, Cronicle Pilot.
"Is'nt there a war in Mexico right now chief?" I asked
"Yeah, just stay away from guys dressed like this." He shoved a photo across his desk, a photo of a rebel peasant, ski-masked, waving a AK47.
"OK....I think I got it.....what about expences chief, I hear Mexicos not cheap anymore...
"No worries Church, we're covering it, heres 200.oo. keep the reciepts."
Its a dirty buisness this travel writing....
"You must be there 2 hours before departure on an internatinal flight."said the booking agent.
"Whens departure?" I asked
"6:oo AM out of Denver." she said
"Your kidding."
Downtown Denver, 3:am on a frozen January morning resembles an abandonded alien planet, it would be good to leave its bleak sterility.
Stapleton international Airport at 4:oo AM looks like an abandoned alien space station. There is no one there...no one but us...
Lucky we got here in time...
Finally at 5;30 the Continental check-in agent arrives.
"Lucky we got here 2 hours before the flight I mumble"...she bares her teeth at me...best not to rattle anybodys chain at this hour I realize.
We make our way to the gate, where nothing is happining...
"The pilot did'nt show." says the agent
A man from El Salvador turns to us, "Chew got up, I got up, why come de pilot dont get up?
"Probably still drinking." said Vicki B.
"I tought pilots could'nt drink 12 hours before a flight? said the man
"Thats 12 feet before the flight." said Vicki.
Lucky we got here in time...
Finally, at 7:30 the plane departs, landing in Houston to late to meet our connection. "Lucky we got there 2 hours ahead." I'm still mumbling.
Finally on an entirely new airline, we reach our destination, Cancun'.
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The city of Cancun did not exist before 1974. It was then that the Mexican government, trying to bring some type employment to the impoverished Yucatan, consulted a computer as to the location of a new resort. The 14 mile spit of sand that is now Cancun was the answer. It now, 20 years later, boasts 20,000 hotel rooms, employs 200,000 people, draws 1 million tourists annually, & is responsible for 12% of Mexicos tourist dollers.
Cancun is more like Miami than Miami is. The beach is longer, cleaner, whiter, the hotels newer, the architecture more dynamic. There is more English spoken in Cancun than Miami, there are less latinos in Cancun than in Miami. You wont find a cigarette butt in Cancun, even in the ashtrays.
There are a couple of drawbacks however, the beach white powdery sand & all has not one tree, nothing living, its sand & cement. Cancun has the charachter of a shopping mall. There is no history what so ever. And last but not least, Cancun is not cheap. By the time the sun had set we had blown our expence account. You too, unless you eat dogmeat & sleep in dumpsters, will
spend 200.oo per day. There are, however, some stunning hotels, complete with exotic pools & the greatest invention of the 20th century, the swim up bar. Could there be anything finer than to leave Crested Butte in January & hours later be face down in a Pina Colada & neck deep in warm water? Why you dont even have to leave your stool for the bathroom.
We were very happy for three days in this position but finally a glimmer of duty raised its ugly head. We were there to do a story on Mexico...just where was Mexico? The only thing Mexican about this place was the guacamole.
We would head out, in a pummeled Hertz VW Bug, we would head into the vast Yacatan in search of Mexico.
It was Rob Quint that first told me about Merida. The most beatiful city in Mexico, Rob had said. The drive across the Yacatan had certainly not been beatiful, 4 hot hours on a boring toll road that had cost 32.oo in tolls. The outskirts of Merida were certainly not pretty. Cement & tin shacks in the shadows of smoke belching factories. Downtown Merida was not beautiful, hot narrow jammed streets with busses & trucks spewing deisal smoke & noise. And now there was a Merida policeman chasing us....
It seems in the confusion of the crowded streets I had run a red light. A intersection traffic cop leaped in frount of me.
"YOU RAN A RED LIGHT!! PULL TO THE CURB!!" He yelled
I made a quick assesment of the situation. Here was a cop on foot...here was us ...in a car. I started toward the curb stared at him with that blank 'not a clue' look & floored it. We tore off down the street cop in whistle-blowing gun-drawn pursuit. 200 people crowding the sidewalks turned to watch. This was better than TV. Suddenly a horrifing realization dawned on me. There was a cop on every corner! Now the officer ahead of us simply stopped the traffic, trappin us like rats. I coasted to a stop, the crowd hushed.
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"Your a veratible James Bond." smiled Vicki
There were uniformed police running from all directions, they stood in frount of the car as the pursuing panted to the window.
"YOUR IN A LOT OF TROUBLE!" He screamed.
"NO!" I denied it.
"YOU RAN A RED LIGHT, TO TRIED TO OUTRUN A POLICE OFFICER!!
"NO!!" I could'nt think of any thing else to say.
"AND" He was stareing at the wall to wall empty Tecate cans covering the backseat..."YOU HAVE BEEN DRINKING?"
What a ridiculous question, show me a gringo in Mexico, I'll show you a man drinking..."NO!" I yelled, then "SHE"S BEEN DRINKING!! pointing at Vicki.
Now Vicki B is fluent in French, & speaks pretty good English, but she had no idea what was being said here, she smiled sweetly at the officers. The police stared at Vicki...
"Its a terrible problem really." I told the officers. We all stared at her clucking sadly & shaking our heads. "Terrible."
The panting cop was'nt buying it, he bent down stuck his face in the window & said three words. "Blow in my face." He said
"HuH? I said, suddenly realizing he may just be right, I may be in a lot of trouble. "Blow in my face." he repeated.
"But sir, I dont even know you..."
"Blow in my face!"
"But I have a cold!"
"IN MY FACE!" Veins were popping a spot of drool on his lip...I blew.
The cop stepped back, stood straight & said to his co-horts... "This man has not been drinking."
I could'nt belive it....thats what generations of chile peppers will do for your sences I mused.
The police talked amonst themselves, then the panter returned to the window. "That will be a 30 peso fine."
I gladly paid it, 10.oo dollers, & we drove off promising never to run another red light in Merida.
In another 2 blocks we entered colonial Merida, a huge square, the Plaza Grande, compleat with pigions & shoe shiners. Narrow cobblestone streets, wrought iron balcones overhanging the scene below. Ornate Cathedrals, outdoor cafes. Ah Mexico...we had found it.
On a tiny square we found the aging elegant Gran Hotel, colums & carvings testifing to her gloryous past. In the square that evening Mexico came alive.
The beatiful little plaza was strung with tiny lights & colorful pinatas. A marimba band tinkled, strolling marachies serenaded. We sat at in an outdoor cafe slurping shrimp cevechie as dark eyed children quietly hawked their chiclets. We hired a horse-drawn carriage, a calesas, & clip-cloped
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down darkened ancient streets. We drank cafe Tintos & lingered over caramel flan served on a historic balcony, while Meridians strolled arm & arm below. We had found Mexico, & it had not changed...& that was good...
very good.
The next day we were drivin from Merida, eyes burning, throats coated with the day time pollution. Ah Mexico.
Hints:
Two absulutly stunning Cancun hotels, The Melia Cancun, The Fiesta Americana. Two good resturants , Lorenzillos at sunset, & dont miss Pericos downtown. The place is a riot.
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