Published: September 21, 2007 12:33 pm         

Dodging storms, reaching goals in Cancun

A beer drinker I have never been, but when I recently slipped into Cancun right between two category 5 hurricanes, I probably had more beer in one week than I have had my entire life. Since I don't like beer, that's not saying much.

Dean was behind me, and had graciously spared the Mexican city for mi amigos, and Felix was ahead, just a moving blip on the map. Both hurricanes did their worst, but not in Cancun.

While there, we had a wide range of experiences - some which let me cross some "lifetime goals" off my list, others which aren't really on the list, but which I try to incorporate regularly, as a general rule. And some not even on the list, but for which I was grateful to have had.

Jumping into the "Sacred Blue Cenote" (say-NOH-tay) at the Ik Kil park in the Yucatan was one of them. Perhaps the top one. My adventure-seeking son used to tell me how exciting it was to jump from rocks and the like at popular swimming spots. I could only cringe each time I heard about his escapades.

But surrounded by friends, I plunged into a pool of water about 200 feet in diameter and 130 feet deep. I took a curving stone staircase down to a platform, climbed several steps equivalent to the height of a high dive, and jumped.

That in itself was incredible, but being surrounded by beautiful vegetation hanging about 85 feet down into the ceonote, as well as having miniature waterfalls to swim under or around, made for one of those rare occasions when you're one with nature.

That day, our little group was on its way to Chichen Itza, two miles away. Chosen as one of the new seven wonders of the world, it features Mayan ruins with enough violence in its history to last at least a few centuries. But its architectural feats have to rival those of the Egyptian pyramids, so that alone makes it an interesting place to see.

While mi compadres enjoyed sleeping in, I would often make my way to the beach each morning, watching the ocean move and feeling the sand between my toes. We stayed at Casa Maya, where there was enough to do one would never need to leave the lovely resort. But with friends to act as our guides, we had no good reason not to, so it was out and about, and away we went.

Amidst the shopping and eating, and catching up on some long overdo reading, we also traveled by ferry to Isla Mujeres, the Island of Women. The open-air ferry ride alone was a real treat, for everywhere you looked, the water was a different color blue. Translucent shades of azure, teal, or green, it even appeared clear in places. And once there, we had a blast!

Since there were six of us, we rented a golf cart and a scooter, and took turns riding around the island on both. Never having driven a motorcycle, I figured a scooter would be the next best thing. And so it was. Feeling like I was the main character straight out of a Mary Stewart novel, I took the wheel near the end of our trip as we were returning the rentals, and thought how cool it was to be driving down a narrow shop-lined street, with three lanes of traffic somehow managing to fit through. I was on the far right, another scooter was going the same direction on the far left, and in the center, headed directly for us, was a taxi.

Which is how we learned, from the locals, that we were headed the wrong way down a one-way street. As we turned around so as to obey local traffic laws, several other scooters passed us - also all going the wrong way.

Isla Mujera is where we also ran into two different groups of friends we didn't even know. Both were either selling their homes or had already moved from the United States to Mexico, to teach the natives from the Bible. The Ohio family was going to stay in Isla Mujera; the honeymooners from Michigan were heading 13 hours south to the jungles of Mexico to do their volunteer work.

Having been raised as a Jehovah's Witness, it never ceases to amaze me how I can meet another Witness halfway around the globe, and find that I have instant family. That help is merely a request away, as is an invitation for an evening of good food and even better company.

Those friends were not the only ones to have moved to Mexico; we also met many Canadians who had done the same. They return home for a few months a year to save enough money to support themselves when they return to Mexico to perform what many people have come to recognize as a valuable public service.

That's pretty much all I learned during my Cancun vacation. Oh, except for one very important thing. My "doctor" (actually my son-in-law) warned me in advance not to drink the water, or eat the ice. Because our resort filtered its water, I decided to err on the wrong side of caution. Meaning, I drank the water.

For my foolishness, I came, I saw, I did not conquer. I awoke with abdominal cramps reminding me of Wade's warning. But Mexico is hot and humid, and one must drink or risk dehydration. But, as the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention also wisely warns: "Avoid tap water, fountain drinks, and ice cubes." It offers instead the alternative of drinking "carbonated (bubbly) drinks in cans or bottles."

So don't drink the water. Do what I did, for the cervaza really is much better!

Daleen Berry is a Times-News staff writer.