Yucatan Peninsula

Until we noticed the waves crashing on the beach we weren’t going to leave Freedom Shores but the wind was honking enough that swimming was out for the day. We packed up and by 9:30 we were on the road with a six hour journey ahead of us. 

It was a nice enough campground but the Agricultural Agency in Belize approved Rusty’s application to visit. iOverlander shows a vet in Chetumal who knows what papers to prepare for a pet to cross the border into Belize so we set off. 

The Yucatan Peninsula is no longer Aztec country. Like Chiapas the three states in the Yucatan are rooted in Mayan culture which puts them in the Guatemalan culture. Indeed when Spain was being pushed out of the Americas Guatemala claimed the four Mexican States, Chiapas, Campeche,Yucatan and Quintana Roo but Mexico muscled them back. 

This is very southern Mexico and the poverty is apparent. Vehicles  are older and there are more motorcycles and fewer cars. Roadside structures are less houses and more shacks. The countryside looks startlingly like south Florida with sugarcane, palms and humid heavy air. 

Our plan was to skip the peninsula and get on with leaving Mexico and thus getting on with going south. There’s lots to see in the three states on the peninsula but it’s heating up here and a visit in December would probably be more enjoyable. After South America then. 

Highway 186 is not a terrible road. There are some topes, speed bumps, in the villages and there are stretches with potholes and torn up surfaces but we held a steady fifty miles per hour much of the day. They also seem to be planning some heavy duty construction possibly making it a four lane highway. 

And it was time for lunch. We flashed past the restaurant but the brilliant front wheel drive got us u-turned easily. 

We ordered fried fish and I set up the Starlink to see how quickly I could pull it together. We had no cell signal along this highway so this was a good place for a test.  No problem.

Rusty did his thing and got a piece of fish when he woke up. He loves tuna from the can but he won’t turn his nose up at fried snapper.

It was a great fish and we enjoyed it thoroughly. Layne fell into a carb coma after we got back on the road.

The scenery didn’t vary much and the last three hours dragged a bit.

Finally we crossed into our last state, and like the Baja states up north Quintana Roo is a slightly odd place where foreign vehicles require no paperwork. Why? I haven’t a clue. We’ll be handing in our temporary  import permit when we go to Belize. When we are back in Florida we’ll reclassify our van as an RV and then Mexico will issue us a ten year permit reducing our paperwork to almost nothing every time we visit Mexico. Ease of travel in Mexico astounds me as I grew up in heavily regulated Europe before the union smoothed border crossings out. 

Andres Quintana Roo was one more leader in Mexico’s independence war in 1810 and in 1902 President Porfirio Diaz carved a territory out of the states of Yucatan and Campeche to honor his memory. In 1974 it became a state with Chetumal as its capital. 

Quintana Roo survives and thrives on tourism so you’ve heard of Cozumel and Cancun at the eastern end of the state. But down here the state capital sits across the river from Belize, former British Honduras. 

We saw the signs to “Belice” as we drove into Chetumal but we have some chores to do before we cross. First Rusty needs his vet papers to go along with his import permit and Latin America generally doesn’t recognize the three year rabies shot. So he’ll get a one year here which will cover many countries over the next twelve months. Then he gets a certificate of good health which lasts as long as it lasts, and at every border we’ll have to check pet requirements. After the vet we want to do a wheel alignment considering all the crap roads we’ve driven and that will be cheaper here than expensive Belize. Our Michelin Agilis tires still look excellent after 30,000 hard miles. 

Layne wants a last trip to Walmart even though we can’t export fruits and vegetables meat or fish. We’re planning on spending a couple of weeks in Belize a country 180 miles long and 75 miles wide with five highways so having staple foods onboard will be helpful until we get to Guatemala where there is a Walmart in the capital. Some things only Walmart sells and we aren’t on vacation: this is our daily life. 

Meanwhile iOverlander found us this resort north of Chetumal for about $19 a night with fresh breezes, a pool, electricity and a clear north sky for our Starlink. 

If the east wind dies down we could even swim in the Caribbean Sea. 

It’s humid and a bit buggy at dusk but not with mosquitoes just harmless annoying flying insects. We are definitely back in the tropics and glad for our rooftop air conditioning. 

The place is called Yax-Ha which means “clean water” in Mayan. I hope it is. 

Freedom Shores, Isla Aguada

You land somewhere new and you drive through the gates and you ask yourself hmm, will this work for me? 

The restaurant is gone, the bar too. There are a couple of rooms I believe currently occupied by Mexican tourists. Today the camper vans number seven. 

To our left in the “Adventurer” RV there is a Quebecois couple, Marie and Louis, their two teenagers and their Mexican rescue dog delighted by everything gringo it meets. To our right is a French couple who store their RV the “Tioga” in Mexico and fly back here when they need a break from France. In the middle you see GANNET2 from Key West.

Singularly absent is our Starlink receiver which cannot penetrate the tree cover which gives us all life giving shade.

Rusty has resumed his campground habits giving his seal of approval to Freedom Shores. Our first chore on arrival was to send his import application to Belmopan, the capital of Belize wherein resides the Belize Agricultural Health Agency and they want to know if you are bringing a household pet into the country. They know now. 

The Belize dollar is pegged at two to one with the US dollar so the fees are half as hefty as they look but the good news is you can use US currency in Belize without fussing with a bank. Convenient but Belize is also reputed to be expensive. We will survive. 

As campgrounds go this isn’t bad. We have a faucet with non potable water, a sewer dump and electricity with an open ground that I have corrected with the ground stick I created in El Rancho. I stick a copper rod into the ground and connect it by cable to the ground on a plug which I then stick into the 15 amp household outlet. Open ground problem solved. 

Louis who has lived in the US and speaks colloquial English was interested in the ground stick which was taught to me by a camper in Oaxaca. I passed my modest knowledge on willingly especially as another Canadian camper got electrocuted on the metal steps of her camper last week. No harm done but it was a lesson. He doesn’t even have an electrical checker which I carry to make sure the outlets are good. I feel surprisingly sophisticated on the subject of shore power in Mexican campgrounds. A bird fishing: 

The showers are hot, if a little sulphur smelling, and the bathroom block is a bit of a hike away. But there are toilet seats and, usually, toilet paper. 

It’s a funny place run by a dude who hangs in the administrative block with his abuelita -grandmother- a person he speaks of but we never see which gives her ethereal presence a slightly Bates Motel feel. There is WiFi after a fashion I’m told outside the office but we haven’t needed it yet. The good bits are obvious especially at $16 a night. 

Were you to land here direct from the United States the rough edges and slightly shabby appearance might shock you but by the time you’ve driven this far, and there isn’t much Mexico left, you appreciate the facilities and overlook the lack of maintenance. It has crossed my mind that Boyd’s Campground on Stock Island is 750 miles away and at least ten times more expensive and neater and properly trimmed and regulated. Here there are few rules, Rusty runs free, and we get to swim directly in the flat waters of the Gulf. Put a price on that: 

Then there’s the churro guy. Have you ever had a piece of Mexican fried dough? At a buck and a half for a bag of six?

The dude shows up selling bags of different flavors, banana, cinnamon or classic with optional condensed milk at 30 pesos a bag. Dan was all over him.

Layne got two bags and saved one for later. Dan, from British Columbia who I’ve met twice before on the road, bought four and we sat and crunched and passed around churros. 

“I’ve got to get rid of them,” he said. “Sharon will kill me if she finds out.”  I crunched with a will, and we passed churros to the kids next door. The French lady recoiled in horror when offered such unsophisticated trans fat nonsense. We munched and looked at the ocean and mused out loud how lucky we are. 

Our planned route from here to Belize once we get the Rusty permit. 

Tropical Mexico

If you were in Key West right now and could look southwest for 740 miles you would be able to see GANNET2 parked on the beach staring out over the muddy turquoise waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Freedom Shores they call this campground where we pay 300 pesos a night, about $16, for our slice of Mexican paradise. And the laundry belongs to our French neighbors, not us just for the record. 

Monday, the national Mexican holiday honoring Benito Juaréz passed us by in a blur of driving as we made our way across countryside that gave me fits of nostalgia for our south Florida home. I kept saying to Layne “this looks like the Everglades” or “we could be around Lake Okeechobee” as we drove along at sea level surrounded by banana palms, sugar cane and the inevitable coconut palms. 

We woke up in our truck stop parking lot on Highway 145, the toll road to Villahermosa (“pretty city” a misnomer I think) the capital of Tabasco State.

Layne thought the city might be a good place to stop as we could get a night in a Hilton Hotel for 10,000 points and there is also a Costco in the city, the last one on our drive to South America as we won’t be passing by Merida the southernmost Costco in Mexico. I demurred arguing we’d be in Villahermosa in a couple of hours and Belize customs are said to be quite strict and we will have to start getting used to shopping locally. Mexico in many respects is surprisingly integrated with US commerce. 

In the end we circumnavigated Villahermosa pushing south on the toll road - the “cuota” - making miles with our eyes and minds focused on Belize at this stage. Ice cream seller, caught as we drove Highway 180, the coast road to Ciudad Del Carmen:

Yesterday was a cool overcast day with sudden bursts of rain leaving puddles on the ground and moisture in the air like a summer afternoon in Key West. The land is low lying so roads are built up on causeways and on either side we could farm animals grazing in lush wet fields sharing the bounty with snowy egrets, little white spots amid the greenery. I felt oddly at home. 

“These people live in a swamp,” Layne said indignantly as we left the  Highway and took 180, a toll free road clinging to the edge of the Gulf of Mexico. Water was everywhere after the recent heavy rains. We had left behind the aridity of the Pacific Coast in winter and the cactus country of the Sonoran desert.  

As much as I like the tropics, and we are at 18 degrees north here, far below the Tropic of Cancer, southern Mexico is pretty tough economically speaking. Compared to the north these states are less developed, more dusty and shabby and many of the roads seem to have been surfaced with molten lava that has been allowed to cool into any shape it wants. I hope my picture shows the true horror of a road surface squashed into a trench: 

I’ve never seen anything like it, long straight ruts created by endless truck tires, summer heat and zero maintenance. We weaved as we progressed. 

You can also see heavy traffic on the evening of the last day of the long holiday weekend. Google maps predicted more than an hour to cover 25 miles and that was as slow as we drove most of the afternoon. 

The long lines of traffic snaked painfully along but as always most drivers were pretty courteous and patient though we did see some examples of impatient passing and pushing. Road rage and gun waving are not a part of Mexican road culture happily. Even when a truck breaks down and blocks the narrow roadway. We took it in turns to pass patiently. 

I am forced to the conclusion that Covid has caused swathes of damage to this coastal tourist economy. Lockdowns, travel bans and so forth have set marginal communities back. Ciudad Del Carmen, a small barrier island city looked the worse for wear. 

There was nothing too appealing here for us. 

We pressed on finally reaching open water views. The Gulf of Mexico: 
Beach getaway: 

The bridge to the town town of Isla Aguada (“watery island”) wherein lies Freedom Shores RV park. 

And, just like the Florida Keys, the old bridge is a fishing pier and pedestrian walkway - with the occasional moped riding on it to evade  traffic backed up at the toll booth on the new bridge! 

The three dollar toll caused a bit of a traffic back up, one last one, entering the town and we drove around a little to check the town  out and assess our choice of campground. Freedom Shores won out thanks to the easy beach access and smooth waters for swimming in the gulf. 

The waterfront, below. There is another smaller campground here but there is no water access for swimming on the Malecon, the waterfront street. 

One gets the feeling Isla Aguada has seen better days.  

We bought corn tamales from a street vendor touting for business at the toll booth. They weren’t the greatest we’ve had, a little dry and grainy, but they were a side dish for Laynes’s roast chicken bought on the road with Trader Joe’s sriracha barbecue sauce bought in Tucson in January. 

A quick dinner after a long day on the road. Incidentally we couldn’t get Starlink to connect here possibly because of the tree cover while  Layne thought the cloudy day contributed  so we may move around to see if we can find a clear path to the sky in this well shaded spacious tropical campground.

The internet phone signal here is a little weak during the day, with slow connectivity. I’m up in the middle of the night when no one else is online so I got to post this with no difficulty at all. We actually need internet access here to get Rusty’s permit to enter Belize. It’s really idiotic but we have to apply to import him to Belize as  though he were a prize heifer or a flock of sheep.

And the Belize Agricultural Health Authority (BAHA) has a form we email to Belmopan, the capital, and which they should return to us within seven days…once they are sure my coddled dog will pose no threat to Belize’s livestock. Once we have the permit we drive to Chetumal, the capital of Quintana Roo state and get a single year rabies shot and a health certificate from a Mexican vet close to the border who knows what to do. One such is listed on the iOverlander app. With those papers and a US$25 fee Rusty gets to enter Belize, a country with its own population of not well looked after dogs. Absurd. 

Meanwhile a few shots from the road yesterday. Starting with a typical highway  toll booth:

Fried plantain seller at a gas station. They were delicious. 

Lots of motorcycle traffic as usual, with any kind of load including a ladder. 

I needed to pee (too much tea) so I stopped, put on the idiot lights and no one freaked out when they passed. Easy peasy. Also you don’t get labeled as a sex offender for answering nature’s call roadside. Imagine that. 

Not the sunshine skyway bridge in Tampa Bay, but similar. 

Christ the King supplier of fuels. Beats me, I just photograph this stuff.