The statistics are not that impressive.
Eight days. 800 kilometers. (Kilometers always sound more daunting.)
But we (Islagringo and I) packed in a lot of travel hours -- and a lot of sights and sites into those days.
"Packed in" says it all. When I first saw the diminutive Hyundai Atos Islagringo had rented as our transportation for the coming week, I had some small misgivings. Or, rather big misgivings about the car's size.
No need to call Dr. Freud on this one. I just had doubts that we could fit two adult males and accompanying luggage into what was originally marketed as an Asian city car. We were not going to be driving in Kolkata. To me, it looked as if it could have been manufactured in Lilliput.
I was wrong.
The car was a perfect fit. Neither of us are luggage hogs. Our large back packs slipped in easily behind the rear seat, and our smaller items had plenty of room. No room to spare for hitch hikers, though.
Despite its grocery trolley wheel configuration, it provided a smooth ride -- both on cuotas and small rural lanes,. As for the latter, Islagringo did yeoman work in dodging potholes that could easily have devoured the Atos -- let alone an axle.
Here was our itinerary.
Drive on the cuota from Cancun to Merida -- where we would particulate in the two-day bloggers' conference. (I have already talked about it.)
Then north to visit Dzibilchaltun, a minor Mayan ruin, before spending the night in the shabby seaside town of Progresso.
Then south (past Merida) to visit to Hacienda Yaxcopoil, the grand Mayan ruins at Uxmal, and the church at Santa Elena with its eerie child mummies. Overnight in Tikul.
The next day was Mayan ruin day. Kabah. Sayil. Labna. And a great night's sleep and an even better lunch in the market town of Oxhutzcab.
Our last full tour day was a drive through rural Yucatan villages to the Disney World of Mayan ruins: Chichen Itza. And an overnight in the provincial capital of Valledoid.
Then back to Cancun and Isla Mujeres -- all on back roads.
Lots of driving. Lots of sitting time. Lots of things to see. And the Hyundai served us well.
A larger car -- even my Escape -- would have been too wide for the roads we drove.
There is something about small back country country roads. They all have a familiar and similar ambiance. Whether Greece, England, France, or Mexico. Narrow roads. Shoulderless. Major shrubbery impinging on the line of travel.
And the promise of a farmer and his livestock just over the next rise or around the coming curve. A promise too often kept.
Of course, there are always the unexpected surprises. Like the replica of a New England clapboard house (gray with white shutters) in the middle of a little village -- cheek and jowl with traditional Mayan stick houses.
But the details of those tales will wait.
This is a paean to the virtues of our little Hyundai -- what done us well.
