Putting our life on hold... some heavy duty preparation!

So, let's go!  Hmm.  For something so exciting and fancyfree, there's one helluva lot of preparation and grown-up stuff to be done first.  Who knew that backpackers' insurance is not available after the ripe old age of 39!  We finally found a company who would insure us for less than the worth of a small country.  Finding an accommodation lettings agency who didn't want us to pile in heaps of students for maximum wonga, selling the car for more than ten bob (every second hand car dealer phone number we rang reached the same 'Del Boy' character with a pocketful of cash, so in the end we relented), insuring the house for letting, opening a bank account which doesn't charge for every withdrawal made abroad (at the time of writing the Norwich and Peterborough is the only such bank in the UK), opening a credit card account (yes, it's true, I've never had one till now and may need one to book flights, hire cars etc), plus informing every service and official organisation that we won't have an address.... all this took weeks.  We never dreamed that it would be so difficult to be allowed not to have an address or phone number!  Some agencies simply do not accept 'no fixed address' and we are so lucky to have our lovely neighbours Annie and Steve as our poste restante while we are away.  Saying 'au revoir' to friends was sad, but everyone has been so supportive that we feel that we're doing this for them as well as for ourselves.  

Our last Sunday evening in Brighton we were invited to Annie and Steve's for a 'last supper' with neighbours.  Great food and company and our first recipe: Annie's delicious invention:

Roast veg and hummus pie…..

Lots of your favourite veg that roast well - peeled and cut to sizes that will roast in the same time (butternut squash, carrots, red onions, aubergine, broccoli, red/yellow peppers, courgettes all work well)

Olive/rape seed oil

5-6 garlic cloves peeled but left whole

mixed dried herbs

mustard - English or Dijon

pot of hummus

short crust pastry (I mix half white and half brown plain flour with butter - about twice the weight of flour to butter)

puff pastry (shop bought - optional)

egg for glazing

Once cut up, mix all your veg in a couple of tablespoons of oil and the mixed herbs.

Spread out on a baking tray and roast until softish and tinged with brown at the corners of things that have corners (about 25 mins at 170)

Mix in the garlic cloves after about 15mins - that way they don’t burn

Once cooked, empty into a bowl and leave to cool

In the meantime, make the short crust pastry and leave in fridge for about 30 mins to firm. Then roll out and carefully line a spring cake tin which has been oiled, blind cook for 20 mins at about 160 (using grease proof paper and dried/ceramic beans). Leave to cool

When cool, spread a tablespoon of mustard over the pastry base. Add hummus to the veg and carefully stir through. Pour veg/humus into pie case, it should reach the top of the case. Top with either puff pastry or spare short crust pastry - using a beaten egg to seal and the leftover egg to glaze the pie top.

Bake for 40 mins about 160, turning down to 140 after 30 mins

Leave to cool before ‘springing open’ the dish

Cut into slices to serve hot - also good cold!

Good served with a spicy tomato sauce

ENJOY!

London, Gatwick to Valladolid, via Cancun and Tulum

An early start, bedding and yesterday's clothes washed, then taken to the launderette to dry and packed up into the attic, last minute cleaning and packing, then .... it appears as if, at last, we're ready to go.  We waved goodbye to the car, then to our neighbours on the sunny afternoon of 27th May, dressed from head to toe in new traveller-friendly gear, with our new well-researched carry-on backpacks on our backs and our heads and hearts full of anticipation and excitement.  Off to a little bed and breakfast in Horley, in preparation for our 9.30am flight the following day to Cancun, Mexico.  Lovely B&B, lovingly decorated and furnished in art deco style, it made a homely alternative to characterless airport hotels: Springwood Guest House (www.springwoodguesthouse.co.uk).  Thanks to Sue for a great start to our trip.

The impetus for these first couple of weeks was to be in Isla Holbox for 14th June, when we had booked to swim with whale sharks.  When we realised that we would be around this area of Mexico at the time these massive, magnificent creatures, the biggest fish in the world, come to feed on vast supplies of plankton, we could not believe our luck and jumped at the chance to see them.  We stayed a couple of nights to orientate ourselves in friendly downtown Cancun, where we stayed in an Airbnb apartment with a black bathtub on the terrace!  Avoiding the hotel zone, we loved discovering the local area, sampling the delights of juice bars serving jugo verde, a delicious juice made from cactus leaves (nopal) celery, pineapple juice and chaya (a kind of spinach), also our new favourite quesadilla outlet 'Las Quekas', which serves yummy fillings such as huitlachoche, a kind of fungus which grows on corn, also other corn-based snacks (antojitos), such as huaraches, so called as they are shaped like the sandals of the same name, and gringas, as they are made from white flour, so look like us pale skinned girls!  From there it was on to Tulum.

Tulum

We visited Tulum during our holiday in Mexico in 2002 and had a great time, staying in a little beachfront cabana, for a couple of dollars a night, no electricity, oil lighting and the freedom to wander around the Mayan ruins at will.  Returning was a bit of a shock.  The beach is still beautiful, with powdery white sand, but the few cabanas have turned into dozens of 'wellness centres' and hotels stretching as far as the eye can see and charging five star prices (we saw some for around $110 US a night and they were among the cheapest).  There are technically no private beaches in Mexico, but when we attempted to gain access to the beach from the road in Tulum the hotels would not allow us to walk through their grounds, as non-guests.  Finally, a guy waved us through, as long as we stayed on the path.  Still, we stayed in the pueblo with the inspirational Irma, her son Santiago and their dog, Lazo, in her hurricane hut at the end of her garden and had a wonderful time chatting in our terrible Spanish and her much better English about life and politics in Mexico.  Torrential rain reminded us that it is the rainy season!  Another Airbnb find, very reasonably priced, fantastic breakfast on the terrace of our little rustic room.

Lovely Lazo

Outside Irma's house in a tropical rainstorm

Valladolid

On by bus to the small and friendly city of Valladolid, quite coincidentally on the eve of the anniversary of La Chispa, the 'spark' which lit the fire of the Mexican Revolution in 1910.  Here we stayed in a clean, efficiently-run, but characterless and unattractive apartment block next to a gym, which we found on the internet.  All day in town preparations were taking place for a celebration of some kind, roads were blocked, seating was being arranged in the streets and there was a general air of anticipation.  A friendly waiter told us that at 8pm there would be a spectacle, muy muy bonito, that we should not miss.   After a day exploring the town, a visit to the chocolate museum (yum), mucho free tastings, and the tequila museum, ditto!, we set off into town, along with the rest of the population.  There we witnessed a re-enactment of the events which took place in Valladolid leading up to the revolution.  The Mexican people watched respectfully, entranced by the performance and when we cheered as the revolutionaries gained strength and booed as they were taken off to execution they remained so.  Fires were lit and fireworks set off in the course of the performance, narrowly missing a man next to us.  All followed by the locals and a couple of gringos breaking into spontaneous dancing to a brilliant band in the main square, which ended at 10.30pm prompt.  A great evening.

Next day we set off very early in a 'collectivo' or community taxi driven by a Mayan taxi driver, who loved telling us about life as a Mayan, maintaining the language and the way of life.  We were joined by 2 other passengers, both also Mayans, one of whom asked the driver to stop several times along the way as he assembled the various components of his dinner: a bag of pork, veg and eggs, drawing good-natured jibes from the taxi driver, who was obviously good friends with him, such as 'El Gordo' (the fat one) and the other an old Mayan woman dressed in traditional clothes.  We had no way of conversing with her, unfortunately, as she did not speak any Spanish.  We arrived still early at Dzitnup, comprising of 2 cenotes, Samula and Xchechen, and for 2 blissful hours found ourselves to be the only 2 people swimming in the turquoise waters suffused with light.  Cenotes are sinkholes, underground rivers sacred to the Mayans, which they consider to be the gateway between earthly and heavenly realms. This region, the Yucatan peninsular, is dotted with thousands of such cenotes, which can be completely underground, partially underground or totally above ground.  The Yucatan peninsular has no surface rivers; they all flow underground through the limestone and in various places form the 'other-worldly' phenomenon of cenotes, complete with black catfish, white sightless fish which perform a very thorough pedicure, stalagmites and stalactites, an amazing array of birds including birds of paradise in the above ground and partially above ground cenotes and a sense of magic and wonder:

Underground magic - beam me up, Scotty!

Hooked by this amazing phenomenon, the following day we visited the ruins of the Mayan city of Ek Balam, but the highlight for us was Xchanche cenote, choosing to make the a one and a half kilometre, sweaty trek through the jungle, in order to avoid the tour group experience. This one is open to the sky and seemingly infinitely deep, accessed by steep steps down from ground level.  It was an amazing experience to be in the water, just the 2 of us, silent but for the constant chirping of birds, then suddenly to see a tour group appear, gawp over the edge of this massive sinkhole, some 10 metres above us, take a selfie, then leave as quickly as they arrived.  We watched hundreds of tiny martin-like birds swooping down to catch insects from the air, while depositing their droppings on the surface of the water, hungrily gulped by the catfish below, birds of paradise perching on the chandeliers formed by vines above, iguanas sunning themselves on the steps and wasps entering the tiny entrance to their nest suspended from the rocks.  

Alan emerging from the 'other side'

Our closest neighbours in Xcanche