Chicken pizza

Yesterday we woke all in a panic, realising it was the first day of spring (thanks to Jess Duncan for the Facebook reminder) and that we needed to get to Chichen Itza for spring equinox celebrations. We tried and failed to get a bus—they'd all left for the day, and the girl didn’t look in a helpful enough mood to suggest alternatives.

Feeling a little disheartened, we headed home via Space for Snorkel where we chatted with Arturo. He told us that the main celebration at Chicken Pizza (he gave a little chuckle at this cute nickname) was actually on 21 March, meaning we hadn’t missed it at all. He also tipped us off about a little town called Valladolid that we should stop in on the way. Brilliant, we would try again tomorrow...

Now, much more prepared with bus timetables and a proper plan, we left the house for the ADO station in Tulum on the actual spring equinox, 21 March 2014, at about 8am. We took a 2-hour bus to Valladolid, which was just 40 minutes away from Chichen Itza, to check out the town. It was beautiful.

Quaint little pastel buildings filled every wall on every street, and in the main square there was a stunning church which was very obviously of Spanish descent. We took a little wander around the church, trying not to disturb the abundance of Mexican Catholics busy praying the stations of the cross, or to the various saints dotted at intervals around the building in statue form.

There were a couple of really creepy Jesus waxworks, with very real-looking hair. One was a post-crucifixion 'thorn still in head Jesus,' laid to rest in a glass cabinet with blood still on his face. All a bit too gory for this English Catholic gal.

We left before the holy water started to boil and made our way into the pristine gardens. Little love chairs had been placed throughout the park, allowing couples to sit face to face and chat the day away. In the centre of the park, there was a beautiful fountain trickling, giving the whole area a peaceful ambience.

Souvenir sellers and food vendors kept the place lively, and there was, of course, a giant Mexican flag. I don’t yet think we have entered a communal area in Mexico where the white, green, and red has not been billowing in the breeze.

We wandered the quiet backstreets of this pretty town, probably straying further than we should, looking for a local cantina where we could get a traditional Yucatan meal. Sadly, we couldn’t find anywhere and settled for a cold chicken taco from a narrow shop. Fearing the inevitable upset tummy, we hoped for the best and boarded the toilet-less coach to Chichen Itza.

We luckily managed to bag a couple of seats and catch 40 winks. At the side of the highway, we were ejected and pointed in the direction of Chichen Itza. A young lad with his backpack in tow checked the way and walked with us to the entrance, chatting nonstop about his own travelling adventures. He too was stopping here, on his way to Merida, to catch the equinox festivities.

When we got to the entrance, there were people everywhere! It was absolute madness. We joined the queue, and I managed to nip off to take a few photos of the Mayan-dressed actors playing the ancient football-esque game, fully clad in terrifying traditional garb.

When I returned, the lads had almost got to the front of the queue. We paid a staggering 188 pesos each to gain entrance and started to worry that we may not have enough to get home.

Not being ones to let that ruin our day, we walked up into the site. There it was, El Castillo pyramid in all its glory. Our English mate said, "No foreplay, straight to the main event, BOOM." (No, we didn’t stay in touch with this comical genius after the day was spent.)

This huge grand pre-Toltec (these are the guys that were BIG into the human sacrifice game and persuaded the Mayans that the more human sacrifices made, the better) structure was built around 800 AD. Even more incredible is that it actually serves as a giant Mayan calendar. There are 9 levels split two by staircases which represent the 18/20 day/months of the Mayan year. Each of the 4 stairways has its own 91 steps, and when you add the top platform, you get 365—the days in a year. There are also 52 flat panels, which represent the 52 years in the Mayan calendar cycle.

And lucky for us, we were here on one of the most important days in the Mayan calendar, spring equinox.

It was *el scorchio*, so we did a quick lap of about a quarter of the site, missing stacks of it. The ball court was pretty impressive. This is where the Mayans used to play their football-like sport. We overheard a couple of guides explaining the post-game sacrifices where the losing captain would get his head lopped off. Once the Toltecs came, it would be the whole losing team that got sacrificed, so the stakes were pretty high.

Without our own guide, and my terrible map-reading ability (to understand where on the site we were in accordance with the Lonely Planet guide we'd brought), we were at a bit of a loss. We decided that we’d invest in a guide at maybe Coba or Tulum ruins to get the most out of it, and for now, we’d join the hippy sun worshippers by the pyramid.

We unravelled our travel towel and took a seat where we thought the 'light formation' would be most visible and got involved in some hardcore Chichen Itza selfies.

We waited and waited for the 'snake' to 'creep' up and down the side of the pyramid. This phenomenon only happens on spring and autumn equinoxes, but after watching it for about 2 hours, we really didn’t get it. There were a few triangles, but to envisage a snake climbing the pyramid was going to take a lot more imagination—or natural hallucinogenic frog substances—than we had available.

We had to cut the non-light show short to catch our bus home. We said our goodbyes to Mr ChatALot and made our way to the exit. After practising my very best Spanish, "¿Dónde está el bus público para Tulum?" we were told to walk 1km to Piste (the nearest town) where we could get one from the station.

After the huge queue for the ladies, we were cutting it pretty fine to get the only direct bus, but with the traffic queue growing, we might make it. Two buses to get home would just be too much for our tired little frazzled bodies.

Just outside Piste, we saw some Orient (the *el cheapo* bus) workers. We managed to bag two tickets for 180 pesos total and get on a bus within 10 minutes. We had to stand and wait in all the traffic we’d just walked past, but there was plenty to entertain us. A guy who had been travelling since 4am was so tired he was debating climbing into the overhead compartment, and the woman sat in front of us was transporting a pet turtle which looked totally traumatised about the whole journey. I had visions of the bus breaking suddenly and the turtle landing on someone’s face or down their cleavage... sadly for entertainment purposes only, this didn’t happen.

After a long ride home, we eventually got off in Tulum just after 9pm. All plans of cooking up a lovely dinner had died with our consciousness, and we settled for a takeaway pizza. A bloody good takeaway pizza at that—Hawaiian...

We’d had enough Chicken Pizza for one day.

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