I was out on the road just before dawn, and it felt GREAT to be back to my normal touring cycling routine. Leaving this early gives cooler temperatures, quieter roads, and greater flexibility with the daily mileage than otherwise. I had a big day planned, so pushed hard through the crisp morning air to Tulum.
Tulum is one of the more famous Mayan sites, and being only about 1km off the highway to Belize, I couldn´t miss it. I rolled up to the gate, paid my $$, and... no bikes allowed on site! Here we go, the old dilemna, what to do with a loaded touring bicycle while you want to go in and see something? As I was surveying the situation someone in a wheelchair went by, on the way in. I have to admit the discrimination against my particular 2-wheeled vehicle ticked me off a bit... Tulum is an open-air OUTSIDE park, wheelchairs allowed, bikes not. I mean really, whats a 35lb touring bike going to do to Tulum that a 180lb wheelchair wasn´t (don´t get me wrong, I have nothing against wheelchairs!!)? I argued with the gate warden a bit, pointing at the heavily-laden, twin-track-in-the-dirt-making wheelchair vs. my light and airy touring bike, but with a blank look and a shrug of the shoulders he told me all I needed to know. Yet another of the countless stupid anti-bicycle policies that I´ve had to deal with over the past 20 years.
So it was that I ran through Tulum faster than I did the Louvre (age 14). I hope my pics didn´t come out blurry. It wasn´t the cost of the bike that I was worried about, it was the prospect of losing the coming 3 weeks of precious cycling. All good, there it was, I hopped on and rode into Tulum town. After a great bbq chicken and rice meal, I loaded up with drinks and a candy bar for the next 100km of riding.
The road stayed flat, but narrowed, and for many kilometres was 1 lane in each direction, no shoulder. No worries, though, I have found the drivers in Mexico to be excellent and considerate, as well as appreciative of a lowly touring cyclist in an almost European way. As the day wore on the heat became intense, and I found myself in a struggle against heatstroke. I had underbudgeted my drinks requirement, and suffered for many kilometres, until a magical little roadside cabana appeared, saving the day. From there on in my head was constantly wet from the water I was pouring over it.
Felipe Carrillo Puerto was a cute little town, with lots of restaurants and a few hotels. I self-catered it, munching down on ham + cheese (right of the brick) sandwiches, and drinking non-stop. No internet, a lot of stretching, and 70 channels on the tv, with a remote control in my hand.
Tulum
downtown Felipe Carrillo Puerto
an old church in Felipe Carrillo Puerto
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