Monday, December 18, 2006

Las Ranitas

I asked the waiter last night if the name of this place had anything to do with the fact that it was owned by a French couple. He gave me an evasive spiel about little frogs that croaked away in the night and I decided that I wouldn't be repeating the question later to le patron.

Back in 1988 when I first came to Tulum there was nothing here other than what the Maya had left behind. Nowadays there's a 10 km row of boutique beach huts along what is probably the Yucatan's most perfect stretch of white-sand beaches.

Anyone that knows me will know that, in Spanish-speaking lands at least, smart little hotels run by smug foreigners that speak the language rather less well than I can, are not really my thing; But I will make an exception here. For a start the restaurant is superb. Wherever you stay here the only place to eat is the hotel's own dining room, so it's a very important aspect of choosing where to sling your hammock, so to speak.

I made the mistake of asking the the chap that carried my bags to my room what was on the menu tonight and he went off on a long discourse involving a multitude of unusual local ingredients. Of course when I got to the table later I could hardly remember any of them and when he appeared again as my waiter with a stern "Ya se lo dije" (I've already told you...) sort of look, I opted for "the fish". This turned out to be an excellent choice: Boquinete entero a la plancha with a sauce based on a local dry chile called Guajillo. (Boquinete is what the Belizeans call "Ssnappaaar!". )

It really is so nice here that I almost can't be bothered to go and see the ruins again this afternoon. But I will take this sudden onset of perezitis agudo as a good sign.

There was an uptight American intellectual type on the bus last night. He might just as well have been wearing an "I'm an anthropologist not a tourist, OK?" t-shirt. I had an hour of schadenfreude watching him sitting next to a woman with two howling brats on her lap. It got better still when the cholo standing beside his seat leaned over him whilst playing a racing game on his SONY PSP at full volume. In contrast all I had to distract me were two young Maya learning German en voz alta right behind me. "Orale...Ich heisse.."

Mobile phone update: apparently if I take the stairs up to the high terrace I might get a signal. Using the Chocolate phone when your hands are sticky with factor 30 is quite a challenge. It gives new meaning to the term slider and the touch sensitive buttons on the front panel just aren't any more.


ilsurfero said...

Anything much in the way of gear? Would love a shirt and pair of those espadrils jah. ;o)

Joël Céré said...

We do read your blog :-)
Can you call me please?

scott said...

Brilliant entry, patojo!