There's something about this sleepy little waypoint town that I really like. Despite the fact that there isn't much to do here, it's cheap and relaxed, and the people are very friendly. I spent two nights here, on my way from Mérida to Playa Del Carmen; but if I had more time to spare, I would have been happy staying longer.
Valladolid's main selling points are that it connects the coasts of the Yucatán; and that it's the nearest big town to Chichén Itzá. I went to Chichén Itzá from here. It was really hot in Valladolid when I was here. It's also a great place to rent a bicycle, but unfortunately, I didn't get round to doing that.
Oh, and did I mention that it took me 5 days before I could say the word Valladolid correctly?
I wasn't expecting much for Friday night in Valladolid, but it turns out that this sleepy little town knows how to party on the dance floor. Dave from NYC and I went to check out the local disco, and it ended up being a big, loud night. Music pumping. Ladies bumping. Cervezas coming.
Ordered this big fella with my (overpriced) lunch at Chichén Itzá. It's got a whole lot of different fruits in it, including strawberry and mango. The cup itself is also quite an attractive number — it could hold enough tequila in it to help intoxicate thousands of poor, sober Ethiopians.
A group of us from Valladolid got to Chichén Itzá at about 9:30am; and it was lucky we got there early, because 2 hours later, the entry queue was over 30 metres long. Chichén Itzá is the least amazing of the ruins I've seen so far in Mexico. The ruins themselves are impressive as usual, but the place is completely overrun by tourists.
We had a pretty big "house party" in the hostel tonight. There must have been about 15 people there that were around at one point or another. Dave from NYC provided most of the beer, and the tequila (which technically wasn't allowed in the hostel). Sonya the Bavarian soul singer provided the entertainment. And everyone else provided their drunken presence.
Sonya was staying at the hostel in Valladolid on my first night there. She's beautiful — she looks like a 40's movie star — and she has a voice like an angel. Dave from NYC wanted her something bad (he wants everything with breasts and 2 legs something bad, though), and I think she really liked him, too. She's in a 14-person soul band, back home in Bavaria, Germany.
Nice and cheap, but I think that this will be one of the less memorable hostels on my journey. It has the same outdoorish setup as Nomadas in Mérida, but somehow, it doesn't seem as well done. Anyway, it was a good place to crash for two nights.
Caught the bus with Dave from NYC. It was OK, but as Dave (repeatedly) said, we shouldn't have gone 2nd class. It took about twice as long as it should have (it took almost 4 hours). Stopped at every little hovel along the way. A bit of a drag.
Bought this on the bus to Valladolid, when a peddler got on during one of the (many) mid-trip stops. It tasted alright, but it really looked suss. By the time I'd drunk about two-thirds of it, I noticed a few mosquitoes floating around at the bottom, and I decided that I'd pushed my luck far enough. Total miracle that this stuff didn't hospitalise me.
In many ways, Dave's the classical New Yorker: hyperactive, procrastinating, loud, and (half) Jewish; but he's also a totally unique guy. He's crazy. About girls. And just in general. I met Dave on my last day in Mérida, and we ended up hanging out together for a fair while, in Valladolid, and then in Playa Del Carmen.