We left our hotel in Merida at 7.30am and had yet another delightful walk to the bus station carrying 20kg worth of luggage. The bus trip from Merida to Palenque is approximately NINE HOURS. Our trip notes informed us that it was "along the coast of the Gulf of Mexico", which implied nice sea views. Our trip notes lied. All we could see for nine hours was hedges taller than the bus... I spent a large chunk of it watching movies in Spanish with Portuguese subtitles - namely, Flyboys and The Wicker Man (the Nicolas Cage version). I don't think I missed much in terms of the dialogue...
|Nic Cage's facial expression pretty much sums up my feelings towards|
this film. Also, source.
Lunch consisted of the bus stopping at a roadside diner for an hour. The food looked less than appealing, so Sara and I made the executive decision to have ice cream for lunch. Because, you know, the Pringles and Pinguinos we'd had as bus snacks weren't enough...
After a millionty more hours of driving, we finally arrived in Palenque. After dumping our stuff at the hotel, Arizona Boy gave us a quick tour of the town. If you've never been there, I can tell you that you're honestly not missing much. (Do not confuse Palenque the town with Palenque the archaeological site. The former was kind of scummy, the latter was awesome)
Eventually, we went to dinner, which rapidly became...interesting. The restaurant we went to was run by a dude named Salvador who was our guide for the archaeological site the following day. And Salvador was OBSESSED with tequila. If you didn't order tequila, he would nag you. And nag you some more. And then nag you again five minutes later. Eventually, I asked for a margarita just to shut him up. Except that Salvador believed that the use of sugar syrup ruined the flavour of the tequila. So he presented me with a glass filled with tequila and lemon juice. It tasted like sour lighter fluid...
|Mix with lemon juice and serve. Also, source.|
While I stopped after (two sips of) my one
- Sara discovered that seven shots of tequila will make you throw up.
- Arizona Boy didn't believe me when I said that Sara had gone to throw up, and proceeded to sniff her hair when she got back from the bathroom, which was insanely creepy.
- Waterproof Trousers (so called because he wore Goretex trousers approximately half the time) seemed to be hitting on Salvador, despite claiming throughout the tour that he was straight.
- Arizona Boy thought it would be hilarious to throw various people's belongings off the balcony of the bar we were at and into the street.
- We then had to spend huge chunks of time trying to persuade various passersby to toss them back up to us.
- There was an awkward discussion about how not all brown eyes are nice brown eyes, which resulted in Waterproof Trousers sulking.
- Arizona Boy turned to Sara and said (in a deadly serious tone, I might add), "Sara, would you like to ride the Arizona Boy Helicopter of Love?". I laughed so hard I nearly fell off my chair. He did not appreciate my reaction.
- Upon leaving the bar, Arizona Boy found a stick in the gutter (ew), and proceeded to heard us all back to the hotel by smacking people's butts with the stick and yelling "Git along, little doggies!" in a bad cowboy impersonation.
- This VW Beetle from a nearby pizza shop (no, I can't explain the connection between pizza and a giant chicken either) was parked outside our hotel. Various people (ahem, Arizona Boy) thought it would be an excellent idea to climb on top of it:
|To be fair, it DID somewhat inexplicably have a chair on the top of it...|
Moral of the story? Tequila is evil.
Arizona Boy's version of events the next day? "That wasn't me, it was my evil twin."
The best part of being the one who can't drink straight spirits because the smell makes you gag? Remembering everything that happened and being the one to fill in the gaps the next day.
Next up, a somewhat subdued trip to Palenque (the archaeological site), which I think was enjoyed by me and no one else, and we all make the most of our stupidly expensive Goretex jackets.