Viva la Mexico: Lobster Cruise y Punta Allen

Don't mind if I do...
Don’t mind if I do…

In the beginning (of the lobster cruise, aka the “wobsta cwoose”), there was an open bar lined with rum punch and pina coladas…

But I’m getting ahead of myself… and on vacation, it’s best to just slow it down a little. Before the wobsta cwoose, Tyler and I had a few hours to kill. Heat-induced indecision reined for some time, but we found ourselves wandering into the Museo Maya de Cancun, conveniently placed directly outside Resort Headquarters. The Museo is exactly as it sounds: a museum of Mayan culture and artifacts. Our tickets also included a wander in the mosquito-infested archaeological site of San Miguelito.

Walking the perimeter of San Miguelito. This may have been a house, or so the archaeologists think…
The decorated ruins of what once was an administrative Mayan building of sorts.
Some really kickass trees that were way worth about 10 mosquito bites.

Around 5 p.m., we took the public bus to the wobsta cwoose. It soon became apparent — as an unseasonably cool evening approached and a surprisingly stiff wind blew off the lagoon — that the pretty little navy and white sundress I wore scored major points in fashion but failed in function. Luckily, Ed let me borrow his sweatshirt and the wobsta cwoose came equipped with plenty of mantas (blankets)… Oh, and did I mention the open bar?

Later than we’d hoped for on Sunday morning (thank you rum, vodka, gin, wine, kahlua and amaretto, in that order), we hopped aboard the Nissan March and headed south. After much “dicking around” (as Tyler would say) in grocery stores in Playa Del Carmen, we finally turned west to Tulum.

Combining the tastes of fig and papaya with something else more buttery and mysterious, we were hooked!
Combining the tastes of fig and papaya with something else more buttery and mysterious, these fruits had us hooked!

Earlier in the day, we’d seen a man on the side of the road selling some sort of melon (it appeared) with bright orange flesh. On the road to the hotel district of Tulum, we saw another roadside display of the same, tantalizing fruit. This time, we couldn’t resist turning the car around. We learned these fruits are named mamey (pronounced mah-may). Ours — deftly sliced by the shy proprietor — wasn’t long for the world; its smooth, oblong black seed and cantaloupe-like skin was soon all that remained.

The gateway to Sian Ka’an.

On we went. After we passed under the arch signifying we’d entered the Sian Ka’an (or “Origin of the Sky” in Mayan) Biosphere Reserve, the road turned to dirt.

At first the lack of pavement seemed docile enough, but then…

Holy puddles, Batman…

Despite pot holes the size of small cenotes, the day was unbelievably gorgeous. It was painstakingly slow progress with a Nissan March (aka no clearance), but the scenery was well worth the taxing drive.

Standing on the new bridge at Boca Paila, looking at the old one. Although it's hard to believe, we drove over that one last time we headed to Punta Allen!
Standing on the new bridge at Boca Paila (the halfway point of dirt road torture), looking at the old one. Although it’s hard to believe, we drove over the dilapidated one last time we headed to Punta Allen! Usually, there’s a cocodrilo (crocodile) hanging out there, but no sightings today…


Taking a stretch and scenery break.
Taking a stretch and scenery break.

About three hours and 50 kilometers (or 30 miles) of dirt later, we arrived in sleepy, tranquil Punta Allen and our home for the next two days: Posada Sirena.

Now that’s something to brag about! We later learned — from our new Mayan friend Angel who didn’t speak a lick of English — that everything (from fishing to lobster catching to owning a boat) requires a permit, since the town is inside the Sian Ka’an Biosphere.
So good to be back!

We’d been to Punta Allen and stayed at Posada Sirena pre-2009 with Tyler’s parents (no one could remember exactly which year). It was so magically serene and un-touristy, we had to go back for another round. Through emails with Michele (daughter of Sirena, the original proprietor) I learned her mom had unfortunately passed away in April. We all enjoyed Sirena’s spirited company the first go ’round — she was an American named Gail who shipwrecked outside the town many years before and stayed, earning her new name: Sirena. Michele’s new hires and gracious hosts — Pierre from Montreal and Alejandra from Argentina — re-opened the Posada two months earlier. Their hospitality even extended to helping us acquire dinner to go (fresh ceviche with octopus, fish and shrimp and tacos al pastor) with a little assistance from their 250 motorcycle…

Off we go…

And in the next installment, Sylva and Tyler do absolutely nothing all day in Punta Allen. Except drink a shitload of coffee, check out some newfangled lobster traps, walk to La Laguna Negra (The Black Lagoon) and find out how to select a lobster, find someone to cook it and then enjoy the crap out of it. Stay tuned!

2 Replies to “Viva la Mexico: Lobster Cruise y Punta Allen”

  1. Sounds nice and warm (except for the boat trip). Up here, we’re expecting another snow storm.

    1. Hey mom! You’re my biggest fan 🙂 We are getting some snow too! Finally!!

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