Dealing with Dolphins

I have swam with dolphins in Cancun, hugged them in Curacao and been shoved off a ramp by a fun loving one in Playa del Carmen. Now, in Discovery Cove, I was going to get the chance to kiss a dolphin.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” asked the little girl standing next to my 13 year old daughter Nia. “They’ve just been eating fish.”

I didn’t tell her I’d probably kissed worse.

Though it’s considered a theme park, Discovery Cove, which is part of SeaWorld Orlando, is totally upscale from the price of the tickets (a double gasp $279 with dolphin swim; $179 without) to the upscale Caribbean resort feel that starts at the lobby entrance where you check in. The idea, it seems, is exclusivity – only a 1000 people are allowed in each day – and soft adventure. There’s snorkeling in the Coral Reef and Ray Lagoon filled with colorful schools of fish and rays in shades of red to black with polka dots. In an out of the way channel sharks can be seen darting dangerously forward. Not to worry, they can’t get past the glass wall. The lagoon offers the ultimate in snorkeling – no waves, no murky water and all the sea creatures are herded together for great photo ops.

Just steps away, along a sandy path shaded by palms and past the Lazy River which loops through part of the cove’s 30 acres, is the Dolphin Lagoon. Here Nia and I learn simple dolphin training signals, one of which is to extend our right arms straight out from our sides. This is the equivalent to hitchhikers sticking out a thumb and within seconds, our dolphins are beside us. Hooking our hands over their dorsal fins, we scoot along with them, heading quickly towards shore. As for the kiss, it was more like a light touch of lips to bill without a fishy taste at all.

Just across the street from Discovery Cove, SeaWorld was a must stop since Nia is crazy about animals. We got there around lunch time and so headed to Sharks Underwater Grill. In its grotto like atmosphere, large expanses of glass form the only barrier between diners and sharks, barracudas and a myriad of fish contained in a 660,000 gallon aquarium. We order burgers (no fish please, we don’t want to make our dining companions mad) and eat them under the watchful eyes of hundreds of fish.

Refreshed, we walk to the 2600 seat Whale and Dolphin Theatre where we have tickets to see “Blue Horizons,” one of several over the top shows at SeaWorld. The set was designed by Stanley Meyer who also did Broadway’s “Beauty and the Beast” and it surrounds a 900,000 gallon tank. There’s always something happening here -- dolphins flip into the air, acrobats dressed in vividly colored bird like plumage bungee jump from heights of 40 feet while others shoot up from water jets and still more elaborately costumed dancers (some even have wings) balance on the noses of false whales who rise from the water.

Nia can’t resist rides and though Journey to Atlantis with its 60-foot drop looks way too scary for me, she joins the line for this combination rail and water ride. Her next ride is Kraken, which was, at least when we were there, the only floor-less roller coaster in Orlando. She doesn’t mind her feet dangling in the air and decides to take a second trip. For my sake, she then agrees to riding a flamingo paddle boat.

We’ve enjoyed the water shows so much that we decide to take in Cirque du Soleil’s La Nouba (we’re told that’s a French phrase meaning to party). Located at Downtown Disney West Side, it’s typical – and awe inspiring -- Cirque fare with I-can’t-believe-they-can-do-that acrobatics, dance routines, juggling, gymnastics and performance art which includes dancers wrapping yards of silky cloth mummy-like around their bodies and then, after ascending to nose bleed heights, letting the cloth unfurl and their bodies hurl down to earth.

Whenever I’m in Florida, I like to search for what I call Old Florida, the mom and pop type tourist stops rather than the corporate behemoths of Disney and the like. Gatorland, a 110-acre theme park and wildlife preserve that was founded in 1949 and is still owned by the same family, fit the bill nicely. From its slightly tacky entrance through the open mouth of a concrete gator head to the Gator Jumparoo show where some of the largest gators in the world jump four to five feet out of the water to grab chicken from their trainers’ hand, Gatorland has a real feel to it and the people who work there seem to love their gators (though they also respect their power too). The board walk leading through the preserve where all sort of birds colonize and gators snooze in the water, their eyes half closed and ever on the alert in case you fall in, is a paean to Florida and how it used to be.

Leaving the gators behind, we return to the Nickelodeon Family Suites by Holiday Inn where we are staying. There’s just time for a dip in one of the two huge pools with their multiple slides, climbing nets and water jets and a trip to the 3000 square foot arcade where Nia played games. Then it’s off to bed. We’ve been here for several days and still there is so much more to do.

Curacao Breezes: The Beginning of a Destination

We drive through the candy colored downtown of Willemstad, a historic city on the Dutch island of Curacao, whose pretty pastel buildings date back to the 1700s and head further south along the road that parallels the Atlantic Ocean. We are on our way to Breezes Curacao, an all inclusive resort with 1500 feet of private white beaches, aquamarine pools and views, on an ultra clear day, of the shoreline of Venezuela.

We could, my 13-year-old daughter and I, decide to do nothing but lounge at the resort. It has, after all, more than all the comforts of home including both Japanese and Italian restaurants, an open air buffet filled to the brim with all sorts of luscious foods (including, my daughter, Nia, and I discovered, wonderful desserts) a trapeze (for the much more adventuresome than I) and even an ice skating rink. Why not just grab a beach towel and head to one of the chairs that were shaded by palms?

Well, there was so much to do on the island and, conveniently, just steps from the door of our room. The Curacao Underwater Marine Park begins at Breezes Curacao and stretches 12 miles to East Point, the island’s most southeasterly tip. The resort has snorkeling equipment available (and also offers dive lessons and trips to reefs further offshore) so we decide to don masks and explore the warm waters. It’s as easy as stepping off the beach into the ocean and suddenly, beneath the calm surfaces of the sapphire waters we’re in a picturesque world where colorful fish dart in and out among two shallow wrecks and canyons of corals are home to star fish and sea anemones. Underwater interpretative markers provide information and give the feel of a walk in the park.

We’re just barely dried off and Nia wants to head down to Mambo Beach, just a short jaunt from Breezes. It’s a hip, lively place with open air restaurants, shops, music and miles of white sand. We poke around in the shops and then continue on to the next beach where the Curacao Sea Aquarium is located. We pay our money and wander past the aquariums filled with all manners of marine life from sharks and eels to anemones and delicate coral. In the hands on section, we pick up orange starfish and sea anemones that seem totally unconcerned to be touched by human hands.

Feeling somewhat adventuresome, we decide to take part in the ‘Animal Encounters,’ advertised as the only place in the world where you can hand feed sharks, sea turtles, stingrays and colorful tropical fish in one dive. We have bathing suits under our shorts so it’s just a matter of changing and putting everything into a locker and then we’re ready. Since we’re not PADI certified, we’re given a 30-minute instruction course in using the equipment which includes wearing it the pool. There’s also a lecture on how to handle the animals safely.

It’s a total immersion adventure and after our lessons, we’re allowed to swim among sharks, rays, turtles and numerous fish who like us because we’re carrying food. But not to worry, there is always a sea life expert nearby.

After feeding our underwater friends, we shower, buy photos of our encounter (I can’t wait to show my friends the photo of me nonchalantly feeding a shark – I surely don’t have to mention that he was harmless and there was a animal behaviorist just out of photo range) and then head back in time of keep our dinner reservation at Munasan, the Japanese steak house at Breezes. There’s a show going on later tonight at Jimmy’s Buffet and we don’t want to miss it.

The next day we head back to the aquarium. In the past, we have kissed dolphins in Playa del Carmen and petted dolphins in the Bahamas. We were once even knocked off a platform by a playful dolphin in Cancun. But we had never gone diving with dolphins and we were determined to change that. There are eight levels of dolphin encounters here and we choose one of the harder ones – diving with dolphins.
Starting at the dolphin platform, our dolphins poke their heads out of the water and seem to be listening as our instructor teaches us a little bit about blue-nose dolphins and then shows us hand signals which we’ll use to “control” our dolphins. The dolphins are rewarded from a large bucket of fish whenever they respond correctly.

But there are no negative consequences for a mistake. Instead, they’re just ignored and the trainers either try again or move on to other instructions. Our instructor, a pretty blonde girl named Annabelle, tells us that the academy is adamantly opposed to withholding foods as a means of motivation and that even if a dolphin makes mistakes all day long, he or she will be fed a required daily diet regardless. It’s never an issue with the dolphins who are with us today, as I soon find out, because they don’t make mistakes and instead seem to genuinely enjoy splashing around with humans.

But I’m vaguely apprehensive at first (what if my dolphin doesn’t like me?) we slip into the water. Almost immediately two dolphins swim over to us and start making the echo like sounds that seem to indicate they’re happy. Good.

Nia, who never met a dolphin she didn’t like, has no trust issues and immediately adjusts her snorkeling equipment and then dives under the water. Her dolphin quickly follows while mine (how do they know?) waits for me patiently at the surface while I adjust my mask.

I decide to hang around on the surface, petting my dolphin and when he seems to insist, giving him a kiss. We then swim further away from the platform and are told to hold our arms straight out from our sides. With a rush through the water, two dolphins scoot themselves under my arms, I grasp their dorsal fins and suddenly we’re speeding towards the platform. I knew dolphins moved fast just by observing them, but to be part of the dash through the water is another experience entirely. Before we can go crashing into the platform, the dolphins slip out of my embrace and turn around. It is Nia’s turn for the dolphin ride.

We spend almost 45 minutes in the water and when it’s time to climb on to the platform, I feel a touch of sadness. I’m gotten so use to our silky smooth friends with their large grins and strange UFO type sounds, that maybe I’m just a little dolphin like now too.

For more information www.breezes.com or www.dolphin-academy.com

The Flavors of San Miguel de Allende

There are many wonderful restaurants in San Miguel de Allende, that marvelous Colonial city nestled in the Guanajuato mountains north of Mexico City. But my favorite is the one owned by Dona Meche, with its cracked linoleum floors, its stone archways and its comal (a flat griddle), set in the front entrance so that people walking by can watch Meche pat masa harina, the flour often used to make tortillas, into circles and then fry them as customers make their selection of fillings displayed in the glass covered cases in the crowded entranceway. El Comal de Dona Meche is not the most sophisticated restaurant in this town where Americans and Canadians account for one out of every eight residents, but the food, simple and true, reflects the best of traditional Mexican cuisine.
Here, on Insurgentes Avenue, not too far from El Jardin Principal, the town square where jaracunda trees bloom, vendors come to sell their wares and even the occasional burro makes its way down the cobblestone street, Meche specializes in gorditas, fried masa stuffed with a variety of fillings including chicken with cactus and potatoes; grilled poblano peppers with mushrooms and cheese and picadillo mixed with green beans, carrots and puréed tomatoes.
For ten pesos (approximately a dollar), Meche takes a cooked gordita from her comal and cuts a deep pocket into the middle before filling the center with one of the many mixtures that sit in large ceramic bowls. A glass of Jamaica (hibiscus flower tea), horachata (rice water) or guava juice costs another five pesos. The flavors of the fillings are intense, the softness of the gordita melding the taste into a one of a kind treat.
El Comal de Dona Meche is proof that despite the influx of North Americans, San Miguel has retained the charm of a true Mexican city.
But surviving invasions is nothing new. In the early 1800s, the whole state of Guanajuato was a tinderbox of rebellion against the harsh rule of the Europeans. Indeed, Ignacio Allende, who was born in San Miguel, would go on to become a revolutionary hero and his name would be added to the town’s name. For those who have eaten their fill of Meche’s gorditas, a quick tour of the town is a way to walk off those delicious calories and gain an understanding of the town’s culture and history. The Cuna de Allende, located across from the main square, was the home of Allende and is now a museum featuring exhibits from his life and his battle against tyranny. The muted yellow of the walls, the charming courtyard, the quietness of the adobe rooms attest to a man who eschewed violence and worshipped wisdom until events forced him into

saving his country.
Just a few steps away is the pink Gothic style Parroquia de San Miguel Arcángel, a cathedral whose roots date back to the 1600s. On the day I am there, a marriage is taking place and the sense of community as people arrive to attend the ceremony and townspeople and visitors just stopping by to look creates a sense of tradition and respect, make it apparent why so many Americans choose to live here.
Just kitty corned from the church, underneath the arched colonnade along Calle Hidalgo, take a stroll among the young girls and older women who sit in front of large baskets of blooms, shaping them into sweet smelling bouquets.
For shoppers, there are many stores, many of them selling upscale pottery, clothing and home furnishings, near the downtown plaza. But its worth walking the extra blocks to the Artes de Mexico on Calzado Aurora, a vast open air, multi level market place selling ceramics, iron works, local art, clothing, jewelry and home furnishings at a much better price.
And for those who want a sense of architecture, there is nothing better than wandering the narrow streets, gazing at wrought iron balconies with window boxes overflowing with blossoms and heavily carved wooden doors some of which date back to when the town was first founded almost five centuries ago.

The Charms of Old San Juan

The view of Old San Juan from the ramparts of San Cristobel Fort looking out over Calle de la Tanca which winds along the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, past homes painted jelly beans colors of purple, green and pink, their soft colors worn by the passing years, is picture perfect even on this day where the sky is gray and the clouds intermittently release sheets of rain.

We have made our way here from our hotel, the luxurious San Juan Marriott Resort & Stellaris Casino, located in the hip and lively Condado section of the city where we ate at a wonderful Spanish restaurant called Miro after the famous painter. Our move back into history begins at the 27 acre fort, started in 1634 and finished in 1790 and a UNESCO World Heritage Site and a National Historic Site under the U.S. National Park Service. With its sheer 150 foot high walls, the fort is a massive stone structure designed to safeguard the island of Puerto Rico and the perfect place to begin my visit to Old San Juan, an enclave of colors, plazas, parks and streets lined with blue black bricks imported long ago from Spain.

Though I’m not much on military history and inwardly groaned when my friend Jody insisted that we stop here (I instead wanted to wander the winding streets of San Juan, admiring the Colonial style architecture which dates back, like the fort, to the 1600s, stopping in shops and trying the local delicacies), I am almost immediately enthralled by the fort’s interior. Its creamy yellow and ochre walled courtyard and arched colonnades lead to the rooms used by soldiers so long ago.

The narrow tunnels that crisscross the interior of the fort were once lit by torches before electricity was installed in 1901 have niches where soldiers could hide or pack with gun powder so that the tunnels could be exploded behind retreating guards. In the prison—a gloomy spur off the main tunnel, a ship’s captain whiled away his time spent here with hundreds of other captives, painted a picture of a sailing vessel. This, our guide tells us, is the largest fort built by the Spanish in the New World and where the first shots of the Spanish-American War.

Almost immediately upon leaving San Christobel, the sun begins to shine as we begin our walk to La Fonda El Jibarito, a local restaurant that specializes in the traditional foods of Puerto Rico. Unsure of what to order, I decide to try two dishes (hey, it’s vacation and you can eat whatever you want, right?), the mofongo con ajo mantequila (smashed plantains with garlic and butter and pastilles masa relleno con cerdo—similar to a tamale except that instead of the meat filled dough being wrapped in cornhusks, banana leaves are used.

Fortified, we are ready to begin exploring the stores, churches and historic buildings of Old San Juan.

Besides the balconies with their flower boxes spilling with blossoms and the wonderfully colored facades, the doors of Old San Juan are so wonderful that they have inspired artists to make small replicas for display. These are available, along with other wonderful island artifacts such as santos (representations of Catholic saints) and papier-mâché carnival masks from Ponce that are said to chase away evil spirits, at Puerto Rican Arts & Crafts at 204 Calle Fortaleza Street, which is on the ground floor of a 200 year old Colonial building.


After picking out my favorite door, we head to Casa Blanca, the White House and the oldest continuously occupied residence in the Western Hemisphere, built in 1521 and once occupied by Ponce de León’s descendants for more than 250 years. In an interesting aside, Ponce founded the first settlement here in 1508 before he wandered on looking for the Fountain of Youth.

The Spanish military took over Casa Blanca in 1779 and then the U.S. used it from 1898 to 1966. Now a National Historic Monument and home to a museum devoted to 16th, 17th and 18th century history, each room is decorated in a style associated with a period of the house's history.

The street scenes are part of what makes Old San Juan so intriguing. On one corner, cement chairs and tables painted with chessboard designs are anchored to the sidewalk for those who want to sit down and play. There are parks and plazas everywhere, each with its own distinct theme.

One favorite is Parque de las Palomas (Pigeon Park), located at the top of the city wall and overlooking both restored La Princesa Jail (now both a government office and an attractive art gallery) and views of the harbor, city and mountains. Another is the broad vast emerald expanse of land in front of El Moro, another stone fort overlooking the waters. Here, on Sunday afternoons, families take advantage of the coastal winds to keep colorful—and often homemade--kites afloat, filling the air with brightly pieces of paper.

We have time for one more stop-- at one of the many street stands selling paragua, shaved ice topped with a selection of flavors from mango to strawberry. It’s a refreshing way to end the day.


For more information:
La Fonda El Jibarito 280 Sol Street 787-725-8375
Miro Marisquería Catalana 76 Condado 787-723-9593
Old San Juan www.topuertorico.org
San Juan Marriott Resort & Stellaris Casino, call 800 464 5005

St. Lucia Road Trip: Taking It to the Top

There was no reason to leave the luxurious confines of Coconut Bay Resort & Spa on the southern tip of St. Lucia near the small port city of Vieux Fort. My children had everything they could want. Pristine white beaches with a nearby reef for snorkeling, a water park whose varieties of slides--from long winding curlicues to fast and furious chutes--could keep both the adventuresome and the more timid amused for hours and then, of course, the pools—big expanses of clear, cool water surrounded by umbrellas and beach chairs. It was enough to make us all as lazy as the lazy river on which we floated through the water park. When we wanted to retreat from the sun, we just sat in the oversized chairs in the vast lobby which opened on to the beach.

And then there was the food. Since our family of four all have different tastes, it was nice that there was so much to choose from—Italian at the Bellagio, Asian at Silk, a beach grill that was open 24 hours with fresh tuna, hamburgers, French fries and even a grilled vegetable sandwiches as well as the Coconut Walk, which featured both island foods (since St. Lucia has exchanged hands between the French and the English seven times, local food is a combination of French Creole, British and also what is available locally such as plantains, mangoes and, of course, very fresh seafood).

So why even think of making our way out of the stately palm tree studded 85 lush acres with its beach front rooms that comprise this family owned and family oriented resort?

To start with, there was the list. Provided by the resort when we checked in (along with a very tasty rum punch which is served to guests after they’ve made the short ride from the airport to the resort), the list was long and told us about all the adventures that awaited us on the island. It didn’t matter that we all wanted something different as there was something for all of us—my husband, my self, our 18 year old son and our 12 year old daughter.

St. Lucia, which is tucked way down in the Caribbean in the West Indies, is lush and verdant, its pitons (molten rock pushed upright through the earth’s surface), tropical rainforests. volcano, beach villages, hidden coves, fern covered mountain trails, waterfalls and plantations teeming with banana trees and colorful and perfumed flowers including masses of bougainvilleas that seem to drip down every wall and hillside. There were also tours of the jungle tops along zip lines and even mountain biking (though I immediately opted out of both of those).

Unsure of what to do, we decided to try to jam as much into one day figuring that it would give us a glimpse of the best the island had to offer. We chose to travel west from the resort through Vieux Fort and up the mountain passes leading to our first stop, the small village of Choiseul, which is known for its crafts. Stocking up on bracelets made from the local volcanic rock polished to a glossy ebony and also on the local sauces (I chose ginger, banana ketchup, garlic and green) produced by a company called Baron in Vieux Fort, we continued on past the two majestic twin volcanic peaks called Les Pitons, stopping to shoot photos in what is probably the most photographed spot of the island.

Then it was on to Sulphur Springs, an active (but no eruptions for more than two centuries) volcano on the west coast of the island. Billed as the world’s only drive-in volcano, the seven acre Sulphur Springs, surrounded by tree topped pitons and with views of the ocean in the distance, looks in some parts like a mysterious moon walk with its bubbling pools of sulphur water (and yes, there is a strong spoiled egg smell). The French owned the island during the rule of King Louis XIV and he very much wanted his men stationed here to stay healthy and thus established elaborate bath houses on the grounds in 1713.

Some of those remnants can be seen at the nearby Diamond Botanic Gardens Waterfall and Mineral Baths where people still do bath in the warm, sulphuric waters which are said to medicinal.

We didn’t stop for a bath but instead followed the coastal road towards Soufriere. So far we had a day of beauty driving along the island’s roads, but none of use were prepared for what lay beyond one of the hairpin turns as we neared this 250 year old village that was once the capitol of St. Lucia. Below us, was a small bay whose aquamarine shore line was filled with brightly colored wood fishing boats and whose buildings, down in the Caribbean style of pastel colors and Creole gingerbread accents, was Soufriere, as picture perfect of a town as can be imagined. We drove down the twisting road towards the town square dominated by a flower garden surrounding a centuries old Catholic church.

One of the main crops of St. Lucia, besides bananas, are cassavas, a dense starchy vegetable that can be fried, boiled or, as we found out when we stopped at a road side stand, mashed into thick round circles and flavored with bananas, strawberries, raisin, cinnamon or papaya creating a dish with the consistency of a fruit cake and cost $2 EC (or .75 cents U.S.).

Munching on these we traveled further along the western edge of St. Lucia, passing through several other picturesque fishing villages and then finally ending up in Marigot Bay where, at J.J.’s, we ate such island dishes as seafood roti (a thin pastry stuffed with tiny local shrimp, octopus and mussels) and a savory chicken stew served with rice and bananas.

Our last stop of what was a long, but eventful day was Castries, the island’s capitol, a bustling city located on the Atlantic Ocean. Here there was enough shopping to keep even my shopaholic daughter happy. First we stopped at the Castries Market where we stocked up on more island jewelry as well as colorful batik dresses, baskets and linens and then on to the duty free shops where, after showing our passports and plane tickets, we could buy rum and perfumes at exceptionally low costs. We had enough energy for one other stop and so visited Eudovic's Studio on the Morne, where we watched wood workers carve statues and bowls, purchased a couple of objects for home and then crowded back into the white van ready to return to the resort.

This one day tour had given us plenty of ideas for what we wanted to do next—me to visit some of the plantations that date back to the 1800s and are now open for tours; my husband and son to climb Gros Piton (with a guide, of course) which is 2,554 feet and my daughter to take a boat from J.J.’s in Marigot Bay to the small sandy beach that we could see from the deck of the restaurant as we ate. It is a short ride and only costs 50 cents but takes you to yet another magical place on St. Lucia.

For more information, visit www.coconutbayresortandspa.com

A DAY AT THE PARK: Visiting Xcaret

“It’s too hot not to be in the water,” says Iliana Rodriguez as we drive south on the Cancun-Tulum Highway on a hot summer day where the temperatures and humidity both seem to hover in the high 90s.

Visiting Riviera Maya, the coastal strip of land bordering the Caribbean side of Mexico running south of Cancun, I had expected, in a truly American way, that the streets of the small beach towns that line this stretch of the road would be empty. After all, who goes to a coastal area in Mexico during the hottest time of the year? The answer is just about everyone, according to Rodriguez, who is the public relations manager for Xcaret, a 500 acre eco park, just like we head to the beach in the U.S.

Rodriguez had picked me up at the hotel where I was staying. It was the kind of place with flamingoes swimming in ponds amidst fountains and a restrained jungle like look. Besides the flock of pink birds, pathways wander past thick clusters of low growing palms, bougainvillea and sweet smelling jacaranda while peacocks meander about and colorful parrots roost in trees. Like many places now in Mexico, the environment is so important that the owner, I am told, had every tree that was removed to build this immense resort, replaced.
This homage to nature followed us to Xcaret, one of several eco theme parks along Highway 5, which connects Cancun to Tulum, a 100-mile journey. Around this area of Mexico ecology is serious business—maybe in response to the too quick build up of Cancun from a quiet fishing village to a Miami Beach look-alike in less than 30 years. At the Iberostar, each of the trees that was uprooted to build the resort was carefully preserved and then replanted. Further south, in the Bahia de Chetumal, which separates the state capitol of Quintana Roo, Mexico from Belize no boats are allowed in order to safeguard the manatees (compare that to our country where park rangers in Yellowstone have to where masks in order to filter out all the fumes emanated by snowmobiles).

Xcaret, which received the Tourism for Tomorrow Highly Commended 2002 Award for their sustainable, large scale tourism, is no exception. Though it was as packed as any Great America or Disney park would be, the people attending, mostly Mexicans, were enjoying the delights of horseback riding, watching native Mayan dancers perform, swimming in the natural ponds carved by nature out of rocks, viewing the sea turtles and manta rays in the aquarium and taking time out for contemplation in the open air cathedral that sits high upon a hill, its altar backed by a view of the Caribbean Sea.

I pondered the differences between the packed and somewhat chaotic theme parks in America compared to Xcaret. The fastest moving events take place on two underground rivers. Choosing the Mayan River trip, I donned a life vest and descended stone stairs through a cave to the river’s openings. Once in the water, I, among many others, floated gently at about two miles an hour through mangrove stands and into underground chambers, the river just chilly enough to refresh, enough natural light filtering in so that it wasn’t complete darkness. Even those who floated near me and talked about their love of the high speed adrenaline rush of roller coasters were enchanted, saying they were going to do it again and so they did.

My next stop was to cavort with dolphins. Standing on platforms I fed dolphins who respond by nuzzling me, enough so that the dolphin I’m feeding gets a little too cuddly and pushes me off the platform into deep water, seeming to laugh at my startled expression. Everyone around me laughs and I agree it must be funny.

Homicidal dolphins aside, what’s most fascinating about Xcaret is how well ecology melds with amusement Xcaret boasts the largest nesting site of pink flamingos in North America. Rodriguez relates the story about how, several seasons ago, a jaguar frightened the flamingo colony, causing the parent birds to flee, abandoning 587 unhatched eggs. Many of the eggs were placed in incubators and suddenly as many as 30 flamingo chicks were being born each day. Because neither Xcaret nor any other institution had ever dealt with this many baby flamingos at once, it took quite a bit of work keeping them safe and helping them thrive. But a majority made it and were re-introduced to the park. Visitors can see them as well as colorful toucans and parrots. Besides that, the park features an orchid farm, a butterfly pavilion and an oyster mushroom farm. According to Rodriguez, the cultivation of oyster mushrooms is way for Xcaret to help feed indigenous people whom couldn’t afford meat.

Mayans ruled this area of Mexico for centuries and Xcaret embraces that culture. In their Mayan Village there are craftsmen and women weaving rugs, carving wood in the shapes of the Mayan gods and goddesses, and spinning wool. Even the bathroom, done in a way reminiscent of how the Mayan’s communal bath would have looked, is intriguing enough that people snap photos. Rodriguez encourages me to enter the men’s side of the bathroom when the coast is clear. A long snake, made of colored tiles, twists across the walls and past the urinals.
Rodriguez is an environmentalist and she teaches me things I didn’t know. One is to use bio-degradable suntan lotion. Before coming to this part of Mexico I had never heard of biodegradable suntan lotions, but they are advertised all over the place down here. The other kind kills both coral reefs and fish as well as sullies the waters.

One of the most amazing moments for me is when I head to a small lagoon near the aquarium. Here, families snorkel in the warm water looking at schools of blue and yellow fish who swim so close that at times I wonder who is studying who. Mothers, fathers, grandparents and children splash in the water, share tips about the fish and enjoy themselves. I am, at this point, the only Norte Americana in sight. It’s a moment where you feel connected to another culture, another country and it’s a good moment.

Before leaving Xcaret, Rodriguez and I stop to eat at one of the park’s restaurants. Sitting underneath the pulapa on wooden benches, we watch chefs sear meat on wood burning grills as others mix salsas with mortar and pestle. Behind us, a fountain splashes and in the trees I glimpsed white orchids attached to the trees. I order, at Rodriquez’s suggestion, the Mayan specialty cochinta pibil, spicy marinated chopped pork baked in banana leaves served with green, yellow and white tortillas—their colors coming from the different herbs and spices used for flavoring. For dessert, we share a plate of crepas con cajeta a la crema de mezcal—crepes topped with milk caramel sauce and nuts served with vanilla ice cream and a touch of Mezcal. I am amazed, that in this simple restaurant in the middle of an amusement park, we have eaten one of the best meals we’ve ever had.


For more information visit: http://www.xcaretcancun.com/

Mexico Road Trips: Hacienda El Carmen

A Retreat to Another Century

The evening shadows start to lengthen along the brick walls of the inner courtyard at the Hacienda El Carmen; the sound of the splashing fountain now competing with the ring as china is set upon the long wooden table that sits under the arched loggia. Besides the rustle of the wind and the screech of parrots, there are very little sounds now as the heat of the day fades into a warm, enveloping sultry night. It is the 21st century, but these walls and the courtyard have existed for more than 300 years and it is easy to imagine, in the dusky light, that the ghosts of the caballeros, the grandees, their ladies as well as the nuns and the revolutionaries who also at one time stayed here, still walk along the tiled walkway, past the bougainvillea climbing up the sides of the walls and amongst the jaracunda trees.

At first, this Colonial style structure, a long colonnaded porch, a gracious two story entranceway leading into connecting dining, sitting and kitchen areas that front one part of the courtyard and then bedrooms comprising the surrounding three sides, all with views of the flower filled courtyard, was known as the Hacienda de Santa Maria de Miraflores.

Haciendas were once a central part of agricultural life, which included ranching, farming, tequila production and sugar milling, in Mexico Many just disappeared with time, but in 1722, Miraflores became the Convento Del Carmen. But though a convent, Hacienda El Carmen didn’t necessarily guarantee a quiet life. Legend has it that the famed revolutionary, Pancho Villa was welcomed here as Mexico struggled to gain independence. Now a hotel and seemingly isolated, the hacienda is just a short drive from bustling Guadalajara, the second largest city in Mexico. Located on the road that connects Guadalajara to the tequila area which has made the Jalisco state famous, the hacienda is located next to Ahualulco, a sleepy but charming little town with dirt streets, an old church and brightly painted houses and stores. But the feel of being nowhere doesn’t mean that there isn’t anything to do. Early morning, horses arrive from nearby stables for those who want to ride. There is golfing, swimming, luxuriating at the spa and classes to learn about cooking. There are even the occasional tequila tasting seminars.

The atmosphere is friendly and relaxed and within a short time, a guest feels part of the hacienda family, allowed access into the inner workings of the place including peeks into the old fashioned Mexican styled kitchen with its elaborately decorated tiled floors and counters and its up to date modern appliances. Here Chef Ambrosio Saavedra Ramirez prepares traditional Mexican dishes such as pollo con mole (chicken in mole sauce), filete a los 7 chiles (filet with seven different kinds of chiles) and chile rellenos (stuffed chiles) accompanied by large pitches of Sangria and ice tea made from hibiscus flowers.

Hacienda El Carmen is one of about 40 or haciendas in Mexico that have been restored and converted into hotels. For more information, visit http://www.hdaelcarmen.com/

Others include:

Quinta Las Acacias (www.mexicoboutiquehotels.com/lasacacias/) Formerly a 19th century summer home located in the historic city of Guanajuato.

San Miguel Regla (www.sanmiguelregla.com) built in the 18th century by wealthy mining mogul Count Pedro Romero de Terreros.

Santa Maria Regla, also built in the 18th century, served as Count Romero's residence and was the first hacienda dedicated to mining silver and making pulque. Today, the hacienda is a tourist center where visitors explore its numerous underground tunnels. Hacienda Soltepec (http://www.haciendasoltepec.com/), located only 45 minutes away from the city of Tlaxcala, this 13-room hacienda is one of the first established in the region, dedicated to pulque production.

Hotel Hacienda los Laureles (http://www.hotelhaciendaloslaureles.com/) offers stunning views of the Sierra Madre mountains.

Mexico Road Trips: Guanajuato

Traditions in a Colonial City



From the moment I stand in front of the Templo de San Diego listening to the sweet sounds of the callejoneadas as they perform in front of this 17th century church as dusk is settling over the cobbled streets of Guanajuato, I know that I have found what to me is the essence of Mexico—tradition, beauty and conviviality.

The lights from the streetlamps cast interesting shadows across the elaborate façade of Templo de San Diego, built in 1662, in a Spanish style characterized by elaborate engravings and known as Churrigueresque similar, at least in my mind, to the complexities of Baroque style art. Crowds gather around me and I am swept up in their quiet movement as we begin to follow the callejoneadas (traveling musicians) along the twisting callejones (alleyways) and streets, past houses with faded pastel fronts, some of which date back to the 1600s, and jewels of public plazas dotted with flowering bushes of fragrant gardenias and jasmine. The houses, accented with wrought iron baloneys, window boxes and intricately carved wooden doors, appear to have been perfectly preserved through the centuries.. The callejoneadas play every night, in what is one of the many rich traditions of Guanajuato, a Colonial city located some 220 miles northwest of Mexico City and named a World Heritage Site by UNESCO, made rich by the silver and gold mines in the nearby hills.

I entered Guanajuato the day before through a series of tunnels burrowed into the mountains that surround the city. My first stop was lunch at La Tasca de la Paz on the Plaza de la Paz, one of the many plazas that dot the city. Sitting outside in the warm noon day sun, sipping hibiscus tea and dining on chicken in an almond and cream sauce, I watch as a religious procession including a band and several men carrying the figure of the Senora de Guanajuato made its way down the street towards the nearby Basilica Colegiata de Nuestra Senora de Guanajuato, which like so many churches in the city was built back in the 1600s. Hurriedly paying my bill, I follow the procession into the baroque style church, resplendent with gilt and stained glass, where the oldest Christian statue in Mexico—the 8th century statue of the Virgin Mary—has resided since being given the city in 1557 by King Philip II.

Coming back out into the bright sunshine, I head to the Mercado Hidalgo on Avenida Juarez, a large two story indoor market where for almost a 100 years vendors have sold fruits, meats, cheeses, chilies and food on the first floor and pottery, clothing, baskets and local handicrafts on the second. Though I have just eaten, I am tempted to try the small tortillas, filled with a variety of meats that are for sale at the many food stands, but instead opt for tiny little plums, that are freshly picked, and about the size of quarters.

It is time to rest at one of the many benches that line the streets and learn more about the city. My guide book tells me that Guanajauto was founded in 1552 and that at one time, in the 1700s, at least 70% of the world’s silver came from this area. Though the city is serene, well preserved and filled with friendly inhabitants, it’s history is bloody as it was here that Mexico struck its blow for independence against the Spaniards who exploited the mine workers and shipped so much of the wealth back to Europe. Now, Guanajauto is the capitol of the state (which has the same name) and attracts students from around the world to its three universities. Diego Rivera, probably Mexico’s best known artist, was born here in 1886 and though the family moved to Mexico City shortly afterwards, his house is now the Museo Casa Diego Rivera, filled with his paintings, murals and furniture original to the home.
My next stop is Jardin de la Union. Bordered by thick trueno trees that have been pruned into rectangular tops, this plaza is filled with people strolling and dining in the cafes that surround the band shell and splashing fountain. Just across the street is the ornate turn of the last century Teatro Juarez, magnificent theater whose elaborate neo classical outside is matched by its elegant interior, with a star shaped chandelier and a drop curtain painted by a Parisian comic opera scenographer, The stairs leading to the entranceway are thronged with people when I am there and a mime performs for the congregated group. Next door is the Templo de Santa Diego where the callejoneadas play.

Dinner that night is at El Jardin del la Milagros, where I dine in the courtyard of a home that dates back to 1670. Here, chef/owner Bricio Dominquez Aquilar, fuses the cuisines of Mexico, Spain and the Mediterranean, to create such sophisticated but immensely enjoyable fare as steak with cheese and shrimp in cilantro sauce and empanadas stuffed with cheese and marlin. While eating, I plan my schedule for the next day.

Though it sounds somewhat odd, I am told that the most popular tourist attraction in Guanajuato is the Museo de las Momias Museum or Museum of the Mummies. Located on the foothill of El Trozado, the museum now consists of 119 mummified bodies displayed in glass showcases (this is a fairly recent modification—old photos of the museum show the bodies leaning against the walls and were, I gather from the tour guide, to much of a temptation for those who wanted a finger or bit of clothing as a souvenir).

Leaving the macabre behind, I make my way to another square, the Jardin de la Reform Plaza San Roque. Here I sit, watching young boys play an impromptu soccer game. A curving alleyway winds its way up a hill. I will rest and then pursue another journey into the loveliness of Guanajuato.

Mexico Road Trips: Dolores Hidalgo

The Flavors of a Small Town

Someone has gotten carried away with the ice cream flavors.

“Pulpa?” asks one of the many vendors, each with a stand in the four corners of the zocolo or town square of Dolores Hidalgo, a small city tucked away in the Guanajuato Mountains north of Mexico City.

Dolores Hidalgo is famed for their nieves or ice creams, all homemade and sold from carts that come out every day and set up in the town square which is bordered, on one side, by the magnificent Nuestra Senora de los Dolores, an amazingly Churrigueresque style church with an elaborate façade of intricately carved pink figures and rose stucco walls that was built in the 1700s. My Spanish is not great but I know enough to understand that the flavor he is offering is octopus. I shake my head no.

“Camorones?” he asks pointing to a container of pink colored ice cream with flecks of minced shrimp.

Oh what the heck. It’s only five pesos, about a nickel in American money, and so I order the shrimp ice cream which he scoops up generously and places in a paper cup. I pick up a small wooden paddle spoon and take a taste. Not bad, but I don’t think it’s going to become a big hit in the U.S. I look at the other containers, some 25 in all, and then at the list, written haphazardly on a piece of cardboard that is tacked on to the side of the cart. My choices are many, from the typical—vanilla, strawberry, pecan and chocolate to the more exotic such as mango, papaya, tequila and avocado, to the fairly obscure— elote (corncob), fried pork skin and pulque, a popular fermented drink. More flavors are frequently added as the vendors compete with each other to come up with unique flavors. A visit to a stand at the northwest corner of the zocolo confirms this as one of the offerings today is seafood mixture containing shrimp, octopus and other creatures of the deep. Dairy Queen aficionados would not be happy with this selection.


Loading up on several flavors, including chili, an interesting looking orange brown nieve that has a hint of heat, I walked towards the Nuestra Senora de los Dolores where a crowd is forming. Today is September 16th and 195 years ago, the Priest Don Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla delivered El Grito, an impassioned, spur of the moment cry for independence that started the Mexican revolution against Spanish rule. Every year, El Grito is re-enacted in this historic square whose buildings date back almost 300 years that intrigue with their style-- including the Visitor’s House, with its faded pinkish stone and five ground level arches topped by second story stone balconies and the nearby Museo de la Independencia, filled with artifacts from the historic struggle, which is lit up at night creating an appealing glow across the zocolo.

Like many small Mexican towns, downtown of Dolores Hidalgo is centered around a square where musicians play on Sundays and families gather to visit and to sit on wrought iron benches, enjoying the trueno and palm trees which shade the walkways. Because it is not a tourist destination for those across the border, it retains much of the charm of old Mexico. During my stay there, people stared at me while I was taking photos as I became just as much of interest as the sights I was seeing and three caballeros rode down the cobbled streets on horseback, making their way to the courtyard restaurant of Hotel de Posada Los Campanas which serves such traditional Mexican fare as chiles rellenos d’queso, sopas (little baskets of fried masa topped with a variety of fillings including chorizo (a spicy Mexican sausage), chicken and pork or flan (a custard like pudding) topped with caramel sauce.

But there’s more to Dolores Hidalgo besides history, Baroque style architecture and fanciful flavored ice creams. Just blocks off of the zocolo, tucked away on quiet side streets are stores selling Talavera, a Mexican variation of the Spanish majolica pottery made in just a few cities. In an interesting aside, Father Hidalgo, an intellectual who was also considered a man of the people, introduced Talavera pottery techniques to the people of Dolores Hidalgo during the years he lived there as well as silk worm raising, harness making, blacksmithing, weaving leather tooling and wine and olive oil production. The stores, such as Talavera Cortés, La Casa de las Artesanias and Talavera Vázquez, overflow with brightly patterned and colored Talavera products ranging from soap dishes, light switches, small vases and tiles to large—mosaics and bird baths to the too large to even think about taking home on the airplane--pedestals and bathtubs and bathroom sinks.

The Talavera, no matter what the size, can be shipped home. Unfortunately, after developing a taste for papaya ice cream, the nieves cannot.