Kelsey and I made it to Akumal with no issues that morning. She had a very easygoing personality, and didn't mind that I took charge, due to my superior Spanish skills and my overall domineering attitude. To be fair, I do come with a warning label! It's a default setting now, for me to explain my morning bitch face (again, so sorry, Kara; I never knew that my face was like that in the morning). Then I mention the resting bitch face which is what my face is on the rest of the day, and my walking speed. And I'm pretty clear that if you can't keep up, I won't hesitate to leave you on the side of the road, stranger I just met!
One thing I dislike about heavily trafficked area is the people who are waiting to interact with us. Everyone just wants something from you: the time, your time, your money, your soul. The first person we met, who waited for us at the colectivo stop was an older white lady, dressed in a long sleeve shirt and skirt. As we walked by her she calls out to us, and I answer, thinking she's lost and just looking for her resort.
Nope. The only person who is lost is apparently me, but Jesus Christ can find me, if I would just let him in.
The second, third, fourth, and every other man we encountered in the short 5 minute walk into the bay entrance was trying to sell us a tour, rent us life jackets and snorkel gear. I thought I was adequately versed in sorting the scams and the bald faced lies, but it was easier to just give in versus argue. Plus, I didn't want to be dragged out of the water by one of the military guys with the big guns.
I rented the damn life jacket, we stored our items, and ran out into the bay. We made it there by 10 am, which was still later than I wanted, but there weren't too many large groups at that time, and the color of the sky didn't concern me; we were already going to be wet.
Ak in Mayan means turtle. They come to this beach to lay their eggs, though I'm not sure anymore; too many people sitting on that beach. The last thing I would what to do is leave my progeny on a beach with all those tourists.
So, yeah, I saw a few turtles.
There's no touching allowed. I assume the life jacket "law" was put in place because too many people who couldn't swim kept drowning, or people kept wanting to get close to them. The big one up top I didn't even use zoom on, because (I couldn't figure out how to do it underwater) they are that big!!
It was my first time snorkeling. The act itself, not that amazing. I do think water visibility had something to do with it. As much as I fancy myself to be a potential photographer (despite the lack of fancy camera or any education), I started leaving a lot of the photography to my travel companions, and just asked that they send it to me. I just wanted to focus on swimming with the turtles.
Turtle, turtle!
By the time we surfaced for a much needed fresh water rinse for our mouths, the beach crowd had doubled; a tour of 15 walked passed us every 30 seconds. I can't imagine there are that many turtles in the bay.
An energizing meal of shrimp tacos kicked off the second half of our day: Yal-Ku Lagoon. A mere 1.5 miles north of Akumal seems like a daunting length in the heat. Despite the rain storms that littered the morning, and a bit while we snorkeled, the humidity hung around us like a creepy dude at the bar: unwanted, made our skin crawl, and wouldn't go away despite the dirty glares and covering up our ta-tas...
Luckily for me, my accidental hitchhiking that morning left me feeling kinda ballsy. Not 5 minutes into our walk, I heard American English. It's so distinctively... loud. A man in a golf cart pulled out of the driveway behind us, and as he passes us by, it just slips out: "Hey, can you give us a ride?"
With no hesitation, the man stopped, and we hopped on! Can't remember his name, but did connect with him over the fact that he's from Springfield, Virginia, and I know where that is! Oh, geography.
The amiable Virginian man was more than happy to drive us all the way to Yal-ku, a once hidden snorkeling spot filled with tropical fish, and was connected to a cenote. Sadly, since the rise of tourism, mainly Americans, caused a fence and a ticket booth to be built in front of it. I know it's the Americans, because everything was listed in USD. I guess they assume the travelers there are too lazy to bother with pesos?
The water was an interesting temperature where the fresh water mixed with the salty ocean. It also caused visibility issues as well. By then, my $11.99 universal underwater camera pouch was bugging me, and bugging out.
Our hunger had been sated, our skin was getting pruney, and both our batteries were dead. We decided on a slow swim back to the dock, when we were mesmerized by shiny things. Later, we would learn that these majestic creatures were rainbow parrotfish. We starred in wonder for what felt like hours, with the sunlight bouncing off their blue and green dental scales. They positively glowed when they tried to hide in the deep crevasses of the rocks.
I know, pictures or it didn't happen. But I'm almost glad I get to keep this memory to myself.
We slept on the beach for the rest of sunlight before heading back to Tulum to gear up for the evening. Despite our sheer exhaustion, it was still New Year's Eve. And, someone was turning 30 at midnight...
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