In which Sid and Doris fly to Villahermosa, collect a shonky little hire car and drive to a Quinta Chanabnal, near Mayan Palenque.
We have decided to see some of the Mayan remains on our way to Cancun so have a flight from Mexico City to Villahermosa. We selected an unchallenging midday flight – in fact many other airports were rejected because the flights left at Far Too Early O’Clock.
Which gave us time for a final breakfast in the unaware company of a Philosopher. We know he was a Philosopher because he had a piece of blue material tied around his neck with a fancy knot in order to ensure that blood stayed in his brain, and also he had a Moral Philosophy Book which he read with much Serious Underlining after he had breakfasted.
The run to the airport was serene and the airport was like airports are. On take off we looked down onto some strange rectangular red/grey field areas and have not yet worked out if there is some vast and recently redundant aerodrome there (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Texcoco).
We had asked for a VW Gol, imagining this was a Golf misprint. In fact it was a local VW small car, recently discontinued. Not only did they not have a Golf or Gol but they only had a Nissan March. This March is not the Radetski March, it has much less brio. In fact it does not have brio at all though it does have a variety of wounds. Doris photographs the worst gouges in the guidebook-recommended fashion.
Either way the sorry excuse for a modern car has air conditioning. Mexico City was at 2,240 metres so quite cool. Here we are at 35ish centigrade, and humid too. For most of the route we are on a main road which is just a two way road with wide and clean hard shoulders. If something is coming up quickly from behind, pull halfway onto the side of the road (if nobody is walking along it). If someone is overtaking towards you, pull onto the hard shoulder.
The whole thing is fairly predictable except for random potholes. Even the speed bumps are signed TOBE, which is just as well as they are suspension wreckers in waiting and everyone takes them very seriously indeed.
Sid found it not so different to driving in Morocco though the roadside cafes less inviting.
We have not had lunch and Sid is beginning to understand why those monkeys might be howling.
What is the jungly equivalent of an oasis? This hotel is it. Palenque town got a sniffy write up in the guide book and from what we could see deservedly so. Quinta ChaNabNal is out in the country up a tiny little driveway, in forested grounds with a pool, iguanas, agoutis and a family of howler monkeys. We have been upgraded to a very fine room.
Over dinner we meet the Italian owner who is also a respected archaeologist, well known on the Mayan circuit. This hotel is used by Audley and pre Covid had had a lot of English custom. Salvation has come from two quarters, one most unexpected. First he has had Mexican staycationers. Second, he was approached by a Russian TV station making a travel show. Russian tourists have a reputation for bullying the staff and general grumpiness so he was not too keen. But he asked a Russian friend about the show and was told: Just say yes. He has had cultivated Russian guests and is hoping his two new clienteles will continue after Covid.
We ask if there is someone who can guide us around the Palenque site and we are to meet Mildred tomorrow at nine.