I waited for the room to stop spinning, then focused on the empty back pack and pile of clothes lying next to it at the end of my bed! Why the hell didn't I pack before going out last night? And how the hell was I going to pack when as far as my brain was concerned I was still dancing on the bar and knocking back Tequilas (it never learns!) and what the hell were those bruises shaped like hand prints on my arms!
And so, despite a severe lack of co-ordination I managed to ram everything back into the aforementioned back pack, then have a shower, get dressed, squeeze out of the tiny room and hurry off for breakfast with TC.
We reached the restaurant where I felt queazy just watching TC as she eagerly helped herself to platefuls of food from the buffet. I just about managed to swallow a few mouthfuls of pancakes, purely to absorb the remaining alcohol left in my system.
A short while later we reluctantly made our way back. Yet again I was feeling sad about leaving the group and saying goodbye to anyone still at the hotel and not up the volcano. TC was going to be catching a later flight to the UK and informed me that she didn't particularly like saying goodbye either, so she was just going to wish me a brief farewell then go off shopping - well actually she was going off to stock up on more food for her journey. Obviously the three and a half platefuls she had had for breakfast weren't quite enough!?
The cab arrived and TC, my friend of 30 years, looked at Neil and said: "She's going to blubber". Then gave me a quick hug, which was closer to a pat on the back and stoically said: "Bye then, see you later!" And hurried away. She was right, I blubbered.
I joined Craig who was waiting for me by the cab, (His flight to Manchester was the same time as mine), then I turned to Neil and thanked him again for saving my life the night before, we had a hug (I secretly blubbered) and climbed into the taxi and we drove off into the distance - like a typical cheesy farewell scene on Eastenders!
A little over an hour later, Craig and I had checked our luggage on to our respective flights and said our goodbyes. I blubbered something about coming up to visit him on his farm one day and helping him milk the cows, but that could have been the remnants of the tequila talking, then I hurried off to my boarding gate ...
And I was off, back to Playa Del Carmen where I was to have four days relaxing on the beach. Logistically it should probably take only about 2 to 3 hours maximum, but as there were no direct flights I had to take a 2 hour flight back up to Mexico City, spend six hours at the airport waiting to catch my connecting two hour flight back down to Cancun, where I spent another hour and a half waiting for my transfer to pick me up and take me on a 45 minute drive, before finally arriving at my hotel around 1:30am. All in all a total of 13 hours!!
But it was worth it. The hotel was perfect; I had a huge double room in which I could probably have fitted a whole Mayan Village. I was a five minute walk from the beach and 5th Avenue (the Main Street with all the shops, bars and restaurants). And I only managed to get lost once!!
It's now been a whole week since I got back to the UK and my freckles are rapidly disappearing. My four days spent on the 'The Maya Riviera' were lovely. I did nothing! No ruins, no early starts, no long coach journeys, no Mosquitos!! Just me on a sandy beach, looking out at the Caribbean with a Piña Colada in one hand and a good crime thriller in the other. And as I sit here in my bedroom in North London writing this last part of my blog I can't help but smile as I remember the amazing time I spent in Central America.
But what's with the title of this post, you may ask? Well ... The Jaguar is an animal deeply revered throughout Mesoamerican history. He was the great god, able to move between the underworld and earth. A symbol of power, strength and survival.
Then there's the Eagle and The Snake, as found in the Mexican flag. Well the story goes that the Aztecs (a nomadic tribe pre-dating the Mayans), were told by their gods to look out for an Eagle stood upon a cactus eating a Serpent and to build the capital city on that site - they saw it, they built it and hello Mexico City. (Or Tenochtitlan as it was called then).
And why The Armadillo? Apparently that's me! According to Mayan astrology anyway. Supposedly I am tough on the outside and soft on the inside. Well the truth is, I am not. But I am trying to be as my family and I come to terms with the rapid deterioration of my dad's health (as mentioned in my first post).
This holiday came at a time I most needed it and the people I spent it with were unknowingly the best tonic, for which I will always be grateful. Theres a saying which goes: "People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime". Or as my late nana would say: "It was beschet". (Yiddish for "Meant to be")
And so finally I have reached the end of this years travel blog, but hopefully it won't be my last. A while back, TC and I were out for a drink with a friend of mine who produces documentaries for TV. We were regaling her with our stories of travelling through India, where TC's issues with hygiene were 'surprisingly' highlighted and my understanding of the word 'patience' was truly tested. My friend looked at us and laughed: "How about I try and get a camera crew together and film you both travelling around the most dangerous countries in the world?"
The sweat broke out across TC's face as she feverishly shook her head and said: "I'll only go somewhere that's clean and has decent food".
Me? Well I just smiled with a glint in my eye.
So dear reader, any suggestions ...
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