TRAVEL THERE: A BUFFET AND A SWIM
For lunch we returned to our shopping experience venue, but this time we only had enough time to take advantage of a delightful buffet. The buffet offered both Mexican and International selections.
Yummy for Your Tummy
We hit the Mexican buffet first and it was delicious. Rice, refried beans, tacos and other favorites from the native cuisine. It beat the Seadust all to heck. Bill in particular loved a chicken-rich soup they served. The international-ness of the International offerings was somewhat questionable. They had tortilla chips covered in Cheez-Whiz, a sort of Mexican casserole and fajitas. They also offered hamburgers, which I guess is what made it international. I found it amusing and enjoyed the irony of ballpark nachos in the middle of the Yucatan peninsula. They also had Huevos Ranchero, which I didn’t try, because I don’t do eggs, but Bill did and he said they were good.
As we ate our generous lunch a trio of ladies, dressed in the gorgeous embroidered dresses of the region, performed traditional dances for us, including the dance with the tray of beer bottles on their head. It was a nice touch to a day which had already been wonderful.
There was a beautiful presentation of fruit, a refrigerator of gelatin and other chilled desserts, as well as hand-scooped ice cream cones. Bill sampled the fruit and we both tried the watermelon ice cream. Time for a quick potty stop was the only other thing we had time for.
Swimming in the Cenote
Our next stop was the Il Kill Cenote. I confess I am not much of a swimmer. There was a time in my life when I had passed a Red Cross life-saving course and taught swim lessons. That was a very long time ago. Nowadays, I lounge by the pool and occasionally take a stroll through the shallow end. I am almost embarrassed to confess I usually don’t even care that I have completely forgotten my swimming skills. I am perfectly happy on the side of the pool. However, on this particular day, I was somewhat envious of those who climbed down to the water’s edge and swam in the cenote.
Bill was one of those people. After we took a cursory stroll around the grounds, he changed into his swim trunks in the dressing room and showered off to protect the pristine waters of the cenote. I climbed part of the way down to the cenote with him, so I would have a good vantage point from which to observe his brave swim in the virtually bottomless pool.
When he reached the pool, he had three choices for entering the water: terrifying, less terrifying and sedate. One glance at the terrifying height of the cliff from which many people dove told him that was not where he wanted to go. It was quite a drop from where he was standing and he’s past proving anything to anyone. The sedate route was set of wooden stairs, near a rope across the water. Many people slipped into the water from the relative safety of the stairs and grabbed the line rather than actually swimming in the cenote. That was a little bit too tame.
So Bill watched a few people dive into the cenote to see how they fared. When they cleared the area in front of him, he dove in. Seconds passed between his brave dive and the moment his head bobbed above the water. I was sure he’d reappear, but I held my breath with him nonetheless. He swam over to the rope and looked for me at the level above, but he chose the wrong me.
I smirked from the corner I’d chosen for observation, as he waved in vain to a woman who did not know him. When we reunited after his swim he confessed he’d been disappointed his greeting had not been returned and he was glad to know I’d watched him in the water.
Almost as soon as Bill had back on his street clothes, it was time to get on the bus. It was late afternoon as we headed back to Cancun. I settled down in my seat and pulled out my book. Come back next week as we re-enter to city of Cancun and return to our hotel.