Day One: Planes, vans and boats (along with 3 miles of walking)
“Sabes si hay otro ferry por Isla Mujeres que es mas barato?” I asked the attendent working behind the counter at the 7-11 at Puerto Jaurez.
“Si. Punta Sam. Es cerca, 2 o 3 kilometros a la derecha,” she replied.
I thanked her and reported back to Xavi. We considered our options.
“So 1.6 kilometers are in one mile, right?” I asked.
“Or is it 2.2?” Xavi responded.
“No, that’s kilograms in a pound. I think it’s 1.6. We can walk that. Easy. This is the kind of thing I was looking forward to,” I reasoned.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
So we were off. Each of us weighing an extra 40 pounds in luggage. The weather was incredible. It was a perfect beach day: sunny, humid, high 80s. But we were walking down a dirt road that ran along side the beach. It was torture as we passed the public beach filled with young Mexican families, their naked babies sitting in the surf. I had a steady stream of salty sweat pouring off the tip of my nose and backpacks covering either side of me. But I was thrilled. We were in Mexico. I could see the turquoise waters of the Caribbean and it was just day one of the next seven weeks of adventure.
We had initially intended on taking the popular passenger ferry to Isla that leaves out of Puerto Juarez every half hour and costs $13 roundtrip. But as we were going to the ticket desk Xavi remembered there was a car/passenger ferry and it was a lot cheaper. So staying true to our cause and hoping the amount we would save on the ferry would go to a cervesa later on, we started walking. And after walking about 3 miles and losing a liter of sweat between us, we stopped a couple walking into their house and asked them how much farther to Punta Sam.
“Punta Sam? Falta mucho! MUCHO.” replied the man, as the woman next to him looked at me.
I couldn’t make out if her expression was one of sympathy because we had obviously been walking for miles and were under the impression we could make it there by foot or like we were fucking idiot backpackers a little too eager to prove that walking 3 miles in the sweltering, humid Mexican heat might as well be a walk in the park to us. (Because my white t-shirt now transparent with sweat was clearly stating otherwise.)
So we continued to walk, what else could we do? But as soon as I heard the sound of gravel being kicked up by the tires of a speeding vehicle, I turned around. I spotted the unmistakable windshield of a colectivo van and stuck out my hand. Six pesos to the port. We were sold. So we hopped through the side opening of the van, where a sliding door would normally be, and sat out the remaining 2 miles with warm wind pouring in through the windows, wiping the sweat that was dripping from my eyebrows into my hairline.
Take me back to ISLA MUJERES // Take me back to MEXICO// Take me HOME