Mexico

Steve and Cody took me to a bar in Playa tonight, called "Señor Frog's". For 300 pesos (USD$30), they'll give you anything they've got, totally unlimited, for 3 hours. Considering that a single Margarita (a massive one — app. 700ml) is 190 pesos, this is an awesome deal. But it turns out that getting through more than a few of these jumbo frozen cocktails is quite a challenge.

I saw Thomas a few days earlier in Mérida, and now it seems that he's followed me (or vice versa?) to Playa. Thomas is a Polish guy, who lives in Germany, and who's on holiday from his physics degree. He's travelled to some interesting places in his time, including Eastern Europe, which he says is so corrupt it's not funny.

This place, the no. 1 youth hostel in Playa Del Carmen, has its advantages and its disadvantages. Its plusses are: its location (middle of town, across from the beach); and the people you can meet there. Its minuses are: the lack of space (really cramped dorms, and a twisting spiral staircase); and the cost (cheap for Playa, but overpriced for what you get). If you can handle the minuses, it's a great place to stay.

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 2^nd 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.