In a park in Tizimin, our first stop en route to Sudzal and the hacienda.
We took the road south as we headed to spend the next two nights at the Chalanté Hacienda just outside of Sudzal, a small village near Izamal. Our first stop was in Tizimin. As we entered the town, we saw a small park with a cathedral in ruins just across from the park. In the centre of the park was this huge tree which was filled with blossoms.
The old cathedral dated from the 16th century, one of many such cathedrals now dotting the Yucatan countryside missing there roofs.
Inside the skeleton of the church, nature had taken over. Only ghosts and hints of a past filled with religious pagentry remained along with the cracked stone walls and openings for doors and windows. Stranger still was the fact that this ruin remained rather than being taken apart so that the stones could be used for more modern, more mudane buildings.
We left Tizimin headed toward the town of Cenotillo. Just on the outskirts of Tizimin we passed this man on horseback who was headed out on a hunting expedition.
He was only one of many who we would pass that were out for a hunt. Some walked and some like this fellow on the right, were riding bikes.
Eventually we passed through Cenotillo and headed south towards another town called Tukás.
Only moments after we reached Tukás and were walking around looking for a place to have a cerveza and something to eat, we saw a parade which was lead by some older men lighting firecracker rockets. Heading the parade of flags was a young “queen”. All were headed into the centre of the town, towards the town square which was busy with the setting up of rides and display booths. Beside the town’s cathedral, a temporary bull ring was being set up for a bull fight that was to take place the next evening. The pallisades that would contain the bull didn’t look at that strong.
When the parade had passed, we went in search of lunch. We tried to find a place for a cold cerveza trying several different places only to find out that they were actually old-fashioned men only saloons complete with playboy style pinup girls on posters, not the sort of place that our wives would be comfortable in for lunch. Finally I was able to cobble together enough Spanish to get us in to yet another saloon, but in a courtyard of the saloon where we enjoyed our cold cerveza and botanas.
Roger heading into the first of three saloons in Tukás in search of lunch.
Having satisfied our thirst and hunger, we left for the hacienda, a story I will save for another day.