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Prague’s Franz Kafka International Named World’s Most Alienating Airport

My favorite destinations of 2007.

The Yucatán Peninsula. Tacos, Mayan ruins, Topes, Mennonite colonies, pristine beaches.

Abandoned military hospital Beelitz-Heilstätten, outside of Berlin.

Back home now. Didn’t do much the last day but find a less “bodied” section of the Playa del Carmen beach and lay there for a while. I caught about 10 minutes of beach sleep, which was good enough. Beach sleep is the most replenishing sleep of all. 1 hour of beach sleep could equal up to 8 hours of regular sleep. Overall I thought Playa del Carmen was horrible, but interesting in a perverse, cynical, survey of materialistic hedonism kind of way. If you like to go to the beach, be surrounded by lots of other Europeans and USAliens, tan your hide on a beach chair 2 feet from another hide, shop till you drop at one of the many global design powerhouses along Avenida Quinta, and end it all with some Buffettesque Margaritahead style partying at Senor Frogs, then you will love it. And you can tell people you went to “Mexico.” In fact, fact that it is in Mexico seems to be somewhat of an afterthought, although there were Mexicans vacationing there, and all the tourist knick-knack stores are certainly operated by them. But the whole consensual reality is anything but authentically Mexican, it’s just sort of Mexican themed. There is a “Drugs and Deli” though so you can pick those muscle relaxers you’ve been wanting to try, or that latest anti-depressant, and grab a ham sandwich. I think I became disillusioned somewhere after passing the second Starbucks on the same street, but before passing the second Hagen-Dazs, which incidentally wants 5 USD for scoop on a cone. But hey, give the people what they want, right? This is what democracy will have to live with… I will say this: I was treated to the best flutezac rendition of “Dust in the Wind” I have ever heard, and it brought tears to my eyes. Then I shoved the rest of my chocolate cone into my mouth, fastened my sombrero tightly to my head, and got in line for a hair weave (and maybe a few extensions.)

I arrived the morning of my full day Palenque visit surprised to see so many tourists already there. Palenque is just as well traveled as Chichen or Uxmal, no doubt about it. But that doesn’t take away from it. The thatch roof that covers the tomb next to the Temple of Inscriptions…that does take away from it. But alas it’s easy to annoy the photographer. Get those fucking frames out of those windows! Get the scaffolding out of the way! Move those idiotic signs away from the bases of the structures! And no, under any circumstances, no ropes or fences! There is also plenty of active restoration going on with the palace, but there is plenty to climb on and plenty of great views. I did take a tour of the surrounding jungle (en Espanol), not really intentionally, lured into it with promises of other hidden “temples.” Sure enough there are plenty of unexcavated temples surrounding the core of Palenque, buried in mounds of rubble and trees. Switching between the three of my cameras and various lenses, I manage to spend most of the day here, resting once for coffee. Back in Palenque village, I have dinner at the restaurant across the street where two dudes are playing freaky marimba tunes. The tone of one of them sounded curiously like the weird keyboard that band Quasi uses.

The drive to Rio Bec is uneventful and I have become master of passing two large tractor trailers in one fell swoop, due to the fact that all highways in these parts are two-laners. I am stopped at a military checkpoint where I am asked if I am bringing anything like “frutas” into the region. I stay at Rio Bec Dreams, which is right off the highway, in a small cabin called a “jungalow” with shared outdoor bathroom. Helpful folks here, expats who have set up a good base for exploring this off the beaten path region of archaeological sites. Hit Becan right after arriving and am pleasantly surprised. Trees everywhere, mossy grounds, sizable pyramids that you can climb, many many rooms and passageways to wander within the structures, and not a soul in sight. Amazing views over the jungle canopy to the horizon from the main pyramid. As I climb one structure I scare a flock of green coated red tipped parrots who fly out over the forest canopy. It’s one of those Discovery Channel moments, only in real life. Also one very groovy Mayan face frieze unfortunately hidden behind opaque and very reflection prone glass.

The next day Calakmul was a 2hr haul, last part up a 60km slow and windy access road. I hit some road work going on and had to drive the rental over a half kilometer of completely torn up highway. When I say completely torn up I mean a bulldozer had just ripped it to shreds and they were in the process of smoothing things out, but it certainly wasn’t going to happen as I waited. I’m hoping the rental company won’t be looking too enthusiastically for scratches. On the way out of Calakmul the bad road had been completely flattened back into dirt. Bad timing…

If Palenque was the sublime zen master of ancient Mayan sites, Calakmul was Conan the destroyer. Nothing fancy at Calakmul, it impresses by sheer size and scope. All of the monolithic stelae located throughout the site add to the brute mystery. The site is huge and very tiring to walk through and climb about, and without the shortcuts provided by Rio Bec and my Moon handbook it would have been wasted energy. Views from the structures are the best part about this site. The view from structure 2, which is I believe the largest from that era, is amazing. The tops of the other pyramids peeking out of the canopy, the view extending for miles and miles above the jungle to the horizon. Once up here you begin to understand why the Maya sought to build these so high, despite wanting to be closer to gods and all that. Instant peace of mind, like sitting high above an ocean. There is also much excavating going on here, both within the tomb of structure 2 and some murals that had been ransacked some years ago and are now protected by a concrete slap moved over the opening. I spend 3.5hrs walking around and am beat and wander the long distance back to the car and start spotting howler monkeys, which are monkeys with little bear faces. When they “howl,” it is a quite terrifying thing. As I beckon them with “monkey sounds,” one tries to pee on me but misses. Then another one pulls out a sign that reads “go home, tourist.” Ok, point taken. These animals are extremely jealous of humans because they don’t know how to wear shoes or operate cameras, whatever you do don’t rub it in.

Today I made it to Tulum and had lunch and then opted to drive to Playa Del Carmen to stay there. Big mistake. Playa del Carmen is just a mini-Cancun, but I’ve never been to Cancun so I can’t really compare. One walk down to the MTV beach and I’m not even interested in the beach anymore. Think tomorrow I’ll head to Coba and then hit some beach back in Tulum for the last day here.

Made it to Palenque with no trouble at all, after getting directions out of Campeche at the Fuerte de San Miguel, a big fort up on a hill overlooking the Gulf. The one thing about driving here without good spanish, is that it sucks when you ask directions and then can´t understand what they are telling you, which has happened to me several times. But when I couldn´t really understand the ladies that worked at the fort, the tour bus driver outside gave me directions I could understand. The difference: he peppered the directions with key landmarks, like “Volkswagen” and “la gasolinera.” What I have learned so far: ask for directions often, even if you think you are going the right way. Chances are you may not be, or there may be a better route, as the barista at an oddly placed Italian coffee house outside of Chompoton informed me.

The drive was quite scenic along the coast, miles of untouched beachfront and surprisingly blue gulf waters down past Chompoton, where I left the coast to head inland. Nothing notable except the mountain bikers for Jesus I keep seeing. They have saints portraits mounted on the handlebars and some even had crosses and the like mounted on the backs of their bikes. A 3pm Nearing Palenque around 3pm I figured I´d hit the archeological site first just to scout out places to photograph tomorrow. Very overcast and, as Victor the guide warned me, “not enough light for photographs.” I thought, odd, how does he know. But alas, f4 and 1/60 sec isn´t going to bring home any prize winning landscape photos folks! The site is absolutely amazing though, I can´t say enough about it. By far the best yet. It is very Angkor-like in setting and quality of the ruins. Old black stained limestone and a thick jungle backdrop. I snap a few preliminary photos. A German woman has climbed the palace stairs and is freaking and they can´t get her down. I head back into town, giving Victor a ride, and he shows me where my hotel is. Eat at the Restaurante Maya and have awesome fajitas and fries and coffee to “Sounds of Silence” as Mesoamerican flute muzak.

I have a theory that perhaps the mysterious decline of the Mayan civilization was brought on by an unlikely contender, some sort of early prototype version of Mennonite warriors. I know it sounds crazy, but I keep spotting Amish people here. Correction: Mennonites, because they are driving cars and getting medicine from pharmacies, I assume you can’t be Amish, eating one’s cake and having it too. First, the two pregnant couples in Merida getting a list of medicines, and then the 4×4 truck guys on the way to Campeche, that apparently had some business in one of the little villages. More on this later…

Merida turned out to be a little too much hustle and bustle for my senses and allergies. Just after a night there my eyes were burning from the diesel pollution. And I don’t think you could fit one more person in this city. It’s difficult to walk down the sidewalk, and get anywhere. I imagine if you wanted to hit the museums or theater, or having shmancy nights out with your friends, this would be the appropriate city. Judging how long it took me to get into the city, I figured this perhaps wasn’t so good a base for visiting the Ruta Puuc ruins. So I decided to leave after lunch Sunday, and hit some ruins in the afternoon and staying in Muna or Ticul. On the way out I got lost immediately, and ran into one traffic jam and more roads with no determinate lanes or logic to them.

I decided on the Kabah ruins, saving Uxmal for the morning. It took a lot longer to get down here from Merida than was advertised, so I knew I had made the right decision. Kabah was small, but great, only one tour group and then it was practically empty. After Kabah I head into Ticul, once again getting lost as it gets dark. Was going to check into one of the two hotels in Ticul, but have second thoughts as I’m still some distance from the ruins and don’t want to get lost in the morning. I call Villas hotel which is walking distance from Uxmal and they have space. This chain has hotels at three of the archaeological sites in the Yucatan, I stayed at the one in Chichen, and it was awesome. Check in to a fantastic room, just in time for the Uxmal Pink Floyd laser light show, which seemed heavily populated with dumpy-bodied eurotrash types that smoke and wear lots of gold and have terrible haircuts. Next day I have Uxmal nearly to myself for an hour. Skipping breakfast was a mistake though, but somehow I clamored about the ruins until noon. The place was teeming with iguanas, and some even agree to pose nicely for me. Everyone wants to be a supermodel. Overall I thought Uxmal was ok, but there were too many ropes and signs and cement patches in non-photogenic places. It seemed like this was easier to get around at Chichen Itza. You can climb one of the temples though, a small one. Next I eat some tacos back at the hotel for lunch, check out and next hit Sayil, which was a lot of walking and ant attacks. Labna was also good, but then the ants tried to do me in for good, and that had me smacking at my ankles like nutter. Sun so hot it you feel like a mule carrying it around. That coke never tasted so good afterwards. Coke adds life.

The drive to Campeche is longer than I expected, but then I realized I took the long way of two ways, mistakenly. Pass through little villages along the way, repeatedly busting my and my rental’s ass on all the topes (speedbumps), which exist in ridiculous quantities, sometimes 10 in a small stretch of road. They must get a lot of laughs at the tourists that come flying through town, busting their heads on the car ceiling as they hit the topes at 40mph. Campeche is an old, walled and fortified city, all cobblestoned streets and old colonial style buildings with pretty pastel paint jobs. Lovely place. Arriving was very pleasant, the opposite of Merida, and I found the hotel without much trouble once finding the center, and there was ample roadside parking. I decide to not head to Palenque tomorrow but to rest a day and catch up on sleep and give the legs a rest. After check in, I head out for eats, and the central square is alive with families and people out and about. It’s xmas full throttle here too, with nativity sets and santa claus around every corner. The iglesia is hoppin on this Sunday night. They take their Jesus very seriously here, but it seems more honest than the way we do Jesus in America. There is a full-on orchestra of sombreroed and panchoed people playing classic Mexican folk tunes in the center of the square. Scattered about are tables with old folks playing bingo games (what is it with that universal?), taco stalls and various junk vendors, and my favorite, the corn on the cobb with mayo rolled in cheese crumbles with lime and chili. I forget what it is called.

Tomorrow I’m off to Palenque for a night or two, then the Rio Bec region for Calakmul and some other not very heavily trafficked places in the biosphere reserve of calakmul (aka, jungle.)

Up at 6:30am I am, which is a first in I don’t know how long, but no matter how much of a late nighter I may happen to be, I’ve got to get there before the thousands of tour groups I imagine will be arriving mid-morning. My hotel didn’t serve breakfast until 7:30 which was too late with the park opening at 8, so I walked down to the Mayaland complex, the lushly manicured luxury hotel that runs up to the park grounds, and actually has it’s own ruins (ooooh) and they had a full buffet swinging so I got in on that. Mole and eggs and toast and potatoes and pineapple, mmm mmm. Peacocks roaming the property. I’m thinking this is the place to bring a date…

I hit the grounds running at 8am the second they opened. It’s a sunny but lightly misted morning, and the mist burns off within a half-hour or so. I start the shutter snapping, and there are only a few other people out. The first hour is good and still no signs of tour groups. And I’ve gotten lots of photos, and really love using this Fuji 645 medium format camera I have along for the first time. By the time they do arrive, I’ve visited all the key places I wanted to in peace and done my thing. Even had the ball court to myself, which was really fucking cool. I had no idea the hoops were up that high (5 meters?) and that they used a “scoop” as I overheard one tour guide say. This is one wicked sport they need to bring back and perhaps replace baseball with. Someone should have to die after every sporting event…when did we lose our way? Yet it seems there is a bit of controversy as to how the game was played and who was sacrificed after- the winner or the loser. The acoustics in the court are also interesting, you can hear anyone speaking as if they are right next to you, in your ear…sort of uncanny. And there is an super-doppelganger echo, as the tour guides are quick to demonstrate, clapping and shouting away which soon becomes very annoying. By noon I am done and the tour groups are everywhere. I have the idea for a piece of performance art to get a group together, dress like cows and go to popular tourist places around the world snapping fotos, mooing and milling about all the way. People need to be mocked. Overall review: solid. The place is popular and you can’t climb on the ruins except for a few, but it’s pretty amazing nonetheless.

I’m out of Chichen, drive back through Piste and head towards Merida and decide to stop at Izamal to see a church that is built on ruins, which is a somewhat strange yellow colonial church style church built over limestone ruins. It’s incorporated enough to not really strike you as odd but if you look at it closely it is. Getting tired so I head for Merida and sit in pretty bad traffic on my way in, but amazingly , perhaps for the first time in my life, I find the hotel with only the guide book maps and a little deductive logic. It never works out this way. I’m happy. Hit the leafy bird circus which is the main square and I can’t imagine why people are sitting on benches everywhere unless they have trained the birds only to crap on tourists. Which I think may be true because even though I tried to avoid the white and black, Jackson Pollack splatter-stretches of sidewalk, something of liquid nature lands on my head. I don’t bother to check out what it was though. As twilight fades the neon-built lawn reindeers power on, to accompany the lawn Santa, as does the Iglesia entirely outlined in xmas lights. It’s a lively Friday night, with a bad festival band playing and the obligatory drum circle. I’ve seen a few clowns and there are lots of balloons. I have mole enchiladas and walk back to the hotel for a swim.

So I escaped to Mexico on a last minute need to use vacation days and soon. The idea is to circle the Yucatan, hitting all the good ruins and taking lots of pictures along the way.

Flew in to Cancun, got in a little rental job, and took off to Chichen Itza (“chichizza”) to see the laser Floyd show on top the big pyramids n’ shit. On the way I spied a giant lazy lizard, which might have just been a piece of tire, and then some vulturey looking birds sitting patiently atop the exit signs at Piste, and fresh armadillo roadkill. If you come down this road you should know that the tolls total near 30$ – all the way to Merida. One was 20 something dollars and the other just a few. After checking into the hotel and eating some Aztec soup, and some enchiladas, I was fully prepared to conquer the Mayas, in brutal historical recreation. In order to do so, I would first have to walk down through the rest of hotel alley and into the archaeological zona itself, for the “espectaculo” or light show with dramatic historical narrative. Think over the top History Channel. To be honest, I would have been happier I think if they just played Dark Side of the Moon, but whatever. I do like that idea off getting a glimpse of this place at night, first. What really killed me at this show were the many people trying to take pictures of a pyramid a quarter of a mile away with their little crapper digicams and using the flash on top of it! And with one hand! Always with one hand! It is evident by the end of this espectaculo and presentation, all in Spanish mind you, that it is all about Choc, god of rain.

All in all, it was a very theme park experience, and reminded me of Angkor where this Aussie bloke and I joked about turning Angkor Wat into a theme park, leaving “no stone” unexploited. Oh we had a laugh on that one. For Chichen Itza I’m thinking more of a lazer tag at night thing, complete with Tron suits, to take place during the light show. Now that would be a fucking espectaculo…

The best thing about travel, besides enjoying the unique cultural and mulleted wonders offered by the location in question, would have to be discovering a new form of music or art. Or snack food. Holland didn’t disappoint, and on Saturday at Waterpop, a large free festival adorned gratuitously with sunflowers and traditional windmill in the distance, I discovered jumpstyle, the apparently preferred dance-step of young people throughout BeNeLux. It was a surreal moment, as I discovered a new favorite euro-cheese dance hit at the same time, “Me So Horny” by DJ Porny. A dance instructor with a boom box blasting the song, was illustrating the kick-crazy steps to a group of young pre-teen girls, all the while the lyrics carrying on, “DJ Porny, me so horny, come on get the vibe.” Perhaps too much irony. And I was confused, like when I heard Kid Rock for the first time and wondered, “is this a joke?” Please just watch the DJ Porny video for a proper education on all these matters.

By the way, I did spot a new mullet that I don’t think i’ve seen before: the dreds mullet. It’s short hair all around except for a few straggly dreads in the back. It’s these little bits of cultural arcana that you wouldn’t have otherwise been exposed to that make travel so necessary for me.

So Saturday was the double header, with us playing Waterpop and THEN jetting across the border to Petrol (club) in Antwerp. That’s two shows in one day in two different countries. I like that. Reminds me of mountains where you can see into different countries simultaneously from some vantage point. Petrol is a very cool club in an old shipyard warehouse type place by the river. There are many different rooms and scenes in the club, and a big black curtain that they draw only when the band is ready to play, which was totally weird. Best show to date, and we are finally in a pretty solid groove. Touring will do that. Saturday night brought much needed sleep and Sunday was the final festival in the little city of Ell. Tough sell, err, to the kids in Ell. But I think they liked our t-shirts.

So, to backtrack, other than the abandoned hospital complex, Berlin was pretty typical travel. I walked many miles, saw the sites to see, took the photos. I did stumble upon a crazy beer festival on Karl Marx Allee, complete with uniformed nuses serving beer to completely *wasted* dudes dancing in silly mock-country mode to “Ring of Fire.” Serious bratwurst n’ beer represented in this hood. I also made it to uber-hip Friedrichshain, visited the wall at the east side gallery, but just couldn’t stay out for any nocturnal adventures.

Met with the band tuesday in Hamburg and the show at the Molotow (off the infamous Reeperbahn) went well, much better than anticipated. The audience was very giving and attentive. Makes all the difference.

Wednesday brought us into Friesland for a free show at cozy little Cafe de Stam in Joure. Frieslanders have their own language much like the Basques in Spain, although I don’t get the impression they are fighting for their independence anytime soon. Douwe Egberts originated in Joure for you coffee, tea, and tobacco aficionados. Our hosts (Jan and Douwe) were quite gracious, show went well and was well attended, and I drank beers purchased for me until 4am or so without putting up a fight. Good people, good times.

Thursday brought us into Belgium, and the rain, to Zichem. Stayed at a very old world, twin peaksy hotel, filled with musty antique furniture, bizzare Flemish ornaments, childrens paintings. Just what were those wooden alligators on the table for? Creepy. But memorable. The show at the very cool Den Hemel club was sold out and except for a few minor screw-ups went very well. We were told the sound wasn’t very good though.

Next was Fonnefeesten festival in Lokeren. Inside the town center all done up fun fair style with waffle stands, round n’ round rides, and a plethora of stuffed animals. I believe this is the last of the 8 day festival, the smaller one, Pink having played the bigger one. Playing the show (first festival) I remembered how different the festivals are. Huge stage, spacious sound, sometimes difficult to follow what is going on. You also feel very under the microscope with all the lights. Despite a power loss due to the energy sucking projection screen, it went alright. Being a free festival in the middle of town, there were some tough customers not necessarily interested in Magnapop, but we made it.