"Crackers! The whole day is almost gone and it wouldn't be a good idea to travel far from the city until we get our spare tire replaced. If only there were something awesome AND close to Merida that we could do in the next three hours so that we won't feel as though we've wasted a whole day in sloth."
Blah blah blah ok. Yes, if you're keen to the formulaic nature of our blog's narrative, you're probably bored to tears already. Fine. We'll just skip to the part when Mexico-"Jesus" comes to save the day.
This hole-in-the-wall/ground town is only 50 minutes south of Merida right off the major freeway that heads that direction. We knew exactly which town the cenote (sinkhole) was in that we were looking for, and it was still hard to find because the signs pointing to the cenote were very unimpressed with themselves.
We're pretty sure that a site like this in America would include freeway signs starting several states away in all directions telling you all about it, spoiler pictures of people more beautiful than yourself enjoying it before you even get there, and some goofy mascot (with a cenote for a head or something) gesticulating all over itself in feigned ecstasy. Upon arriving at said fictitious, American version of such a town, we imagine that said cenote-head mascot would quickly insert a finger into each of our nostrils (using two on each hand) to painfully drag us down a strip of neon signs full of overinflated expectations and insultingly overt sexual innuendo, telling us all along the way what a great time we would have, and that it would barely cost a nickel (a lie).
Apparently, a place like El Cenote de San Ignacio is a big yawnfest down here, at least in the way it's advertised when compared to advertising back home. It was our first cenote, and actually one of the "least noteworthy" around (we are now on a "continuing mission to explore all strange, new cenotes. To seek out new caves and new grutas. To boldly go where many tourists have gone before."). It cost $1.90 U.S. a cenote-head to get in with no time limit, and we got the impression that locals of Chochula don't pay a single peso (as should be their right).
Some of the pictures are on a slow shutter speed to allow the camera to capture the "natural" light in the cenote (cavelight provided by the lamps seen in the pictures). That means that anything moving in slow shutter pictures (like water or people) will be blurry, but the detail of stationary objects will be more profound than a flash or regular picture (sorry for the tutorial. We're aware this is not news to many, but it may help provide a more pleasant viewing experience for some). We invite you to click the pictures to zoom in on most of these shots. Check out the amazing intricacy of the cenote's formations. Enjoy.
Chochola. You can zoom into this one if you want, but really, it's just a sign.
This is the butler at The Cenote de San Ignacio.
Seriously, until the guy at the desk points the way, you don't even notice these stairs, and even when he does, they just look like stairs to a basement or something, not stairs leading down a rabbit hole of awesomeness.
Justin is energized by his mango-chile sucker.
"Are you coming?"
View from the bottom of the stairs.
The first slow shutter speed shot. Karina moved (FAIL! j/k :P). This picture almost duplicates what it feels like to be inside there. Oh yeah, and when you zoom in, don't forget to get a good look at the locals getting their groove on in the corner ;)
Understandably, Karina had to tread water during this slow shot. Gives the pic a cool affect actually.
Excellent. (another slow one)
Water is a little chilly at first, but only because the air is so hot down there in comparison.
"Me gusta sentarme," dice Justin. (slow shutter speed)
Right before Justin dove in. Karina did some gutsy diving too. This picture is awesome because the water is still, and you can see how visible the bottom is when it settles. We guess the deepest part of the deep end goes about 15 feet down.
We have been healed of all ailments by the magic waters! In all seriousness, Justin had stupidly gotten himself a moderate sunburn a couple of days before (Justin is writing this btw), and, we're not kidding, an hour or so in this cenote pretty much took care of it after days of trying to nurse it by other means. He noticed otw back to Merida by a really weird tingling sensation everywhere his skin had been unhappy, then a pleasant lack of discomfort.
Oh, THERE'S the sign with the spoilers. (And an overhead, topographical map of the cenote.)
The goats of Louisa and Juan Filipe! Actually, no. These guys and gals are just on the way out of the cenote. Justin just about lost his mind laughing as they frantically answered his bad goat-bleat impressions. We thought they were screaming "Do you have any more goat chow!?" over and over, but, after reading a picture we took of the sign to the left of their coral much later that night, we realized they were screaming something more like "The Administration desk! The Administration desk! You get the goat chow at the Administration desk you pinche Gringos! Give them the shiny round things at the desk!"
Justin must have looked like a sadist from their perspective. We're planning on going back to set things right.
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