“We touched down at 5pm local time in Cancun and were instantly smacked by the 35 degree heat and realised that the Boots factor 30 wouldn’t last too long. We hopped on the local bus into downtown Cancun (and away from the craic) and eventually arrived at our hostel. Luckily the hostel was having a free tequila tasting session which was excellent for our tight budget! After about 6 or so, we decided to call it a night as in the morning we were going to see one of the 7 Wonders of the World: Chitchen Itza. Jet lagged and slightly hung over, we made it to Chitchen Itza, or as most Americans thought it was called: Chicken Pizza. Once the tour finished and the word “tip” was mentioned we legged it.
When we arrived at our host Pavel’s place that night, the look on his face as 3 red Irishmen walked in was quite memorable. Queue numerous days in bed in what we later labelled as the “Batcave”, Pavel’s underground bedroom. Needless to say that at our first pool party the following evening at a friend’s place, we went down a big hit as a source of entertainment and without a doubt created a lot of interest in the pastiness of Irish skin! Saturday didn't improve in terms of sunburn and the look of disgust was becoming normal! A BBQ turned into an impromptu Irish concert with us introducing Mexico to the wonders of Ronan Keating, Westlife and Galway Girl. That movie PS I Love You has done wonders for the Irish race!
As the budget had taken quite a hit, we felt it would be beneficial to hibernate back into the Batcave for the last few days to save for Mexico City. Poor Pavel is now a plastic Paddy if ever there was one and I don’t know for his sake if that is a good thing. A Mexican saying “How’s it going?” or “Any birds?” just doesn’t sit right. By this stage our Irish beach bodies had taken quite a hit thanks to the lovely world of tacos. We departed Monterrey with the hope of taking it easy in Mexico City. An awful call on our behalf.
We arrived by plane, using the Ryanair owned Vivaaerobus, which is basically like Ryanair back in the nineties, and took the metro to the city centre. At one stage a young girl with her mother actually pointed at us and said “Gringos mami, Gringos!”!. We got off the metro in the middle of Zona Rosa, which is the Mexican gay Mecca. It was basically a street with lads necking each other on every bench.
We stayed at a friend of a friend’s place who loves Ireland even more than we do and told us about endless nights in Dicey’s and Coppers. We visited the Zocalo which is the historic centre of Mexico and partook in some Irish dancing on the main plaza to the amusement of the locals. That night we decided that we should visit the local “Irish” bar. By Jesus it was twice as expensive as back home and the budget was smashed before the word tipsy could even be mentioned!
Mexico you have been amazing and more Irish than we expected. Next stop Venezuela!