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Belarus Practical Guide Minsk. Balaton Budapest. Macedonian Wine Ohrid Skopje. Antwerp Flanders Top-5 Destinations. Haifa vs. DMZ Zone. Bohol Manila. Cappadocia Edirne Istanbul Kars. You're welcome. Publicly embraced travel guides classify Valladolid as that off-the-beaten-path, less-visited destination where only the more adventurous tourists go to. With its high density of travel agencies and gringo-filled tourist buses and I mean the real ones, those red open double-deckers where headphones are handed out before foaming off the highlights , I beg to disagree. This place has something the southern side of the peninsula consciously lost at the beginning of their tourism extravaganza: authencity. The people in these buses looked at me. I was hitchhiking, holding up a carton on which I had sloppily scribbled my destination. Hitchhiking in Mexico is not as easy as in neighbouring places like Belize , Costa Rica or Panama , but somehow I ended up getting a ride at last in most occasions. Also this time euphoria hit me when after 45 minutes a car slowed down in the gutter. A sturdy chick with her gay BFF cleared some space for my backpack and raced off with me on the backseat. However, this is Mexico and corruption is widely celebrated, like everywhere else in Latin America , or I mean: the world. Easy as that. While sipping at a western-approved coffee the year-old tourism-student Rossana waved at me to welcome me in the town where she was born, raised and still living. Was I ready to walk about 15 blocks with my overloaded backpack to the house where she lived in with three family generations? Not only did Rosanna, her mother, grandmother, adult brother and sister host our stay… also cat Lola, dog Cooper, a nameless dog in the garden and an also still nameless hyperactive puppy did their best to entertain me. As it was late Rosanna took me back into town to score some affordable restaurant meal, before giving away her bed for me to sleep in Yucatan-people rather sleep in a hammock anyway. I woke up by the barking and moaning of the pup and tried to fabricate some breakfast without working electricity. I watched Rosanna and her mum eating something unfamiliar: volcancitos , beans wrapped in corn flour and inevitably deep-fried, served with chilli. Yes, this is breakfast. So I asked Rossana and the mum a question she probably never heard of before: Can you teach me how to make Mexican food without meat? She had to process this information… meat, the motor of the Latin American kitchen… but yes, she thought she could manage. They wrote down a shopping list and we scheduled the private cooking class for that evening. Not quite the day activity. I headed to the small market to buy the essential ingredients for my cooking adventure and headed back home. Mexicans eat only a few pieces of vegetables, but those they eat in every single meal: tomato, lettuce and avocado, the standard topping of every dish together with some cream and cheese. Another essential ingredient since the Mayas is corn, believed to represent the gods. Right, the corn dough. Swiftly moving her fingers she demonstrated how to produce tortillas for the salbutes in five seconds, and how to fold the beans in or cheese to either produce volcancitos or empanadas basically the same thing. Without the same skilfulness I slowly followed and watched Rosanna deep-frying everything like little sponges. But sinning can be so delicious at times. Babies are occasionally given milk bottles with Coca Cola instead, sugar is considered a healthy energy source. How we Europeans snob about which wine has to accompany certain dishes for the ultimate taste sensations, the Mexicans advice their table guests to sip on a glass of coke to benefit the digestion of the greases a statement that can easily be wiped out scientifically. Brainwashing done well. I woke up early late for people with jobs in order to join Rossana in a school excursion to one of the more unknown cenotes : Dzitnup. In the back of a pick-up truck we drove down to this natural wonder, tucked away deep in the forest. What my eyes witnessed was something absolutely extraordinary: Without expecting it from the outside some gigantic, stone wonderland stretched out in front of me. Large stalactites and dripstones built up in millions of years… and the bluest crystal clear water you can imagine. I felt like watching the Latin Aladdin exploring the treasure cave after cracking open the spelunk with a magic spell. Cenotes are something so intriguing you might want to formulate it as your goal to plan your trip around all of them, but let me help you out of that dream: In the peninsula you will find a couple of hundred… so unless you are planning to stay for at least two years you might adjust your aims slightly. The same goes for Maya ruins. The Mayas did well, again, but not better than they did in the other places scattered around in this area. Back home this is indisputably my favourite time of the year. Dressing up means wearing a glitter bikini or some bling-bling-dress instead of a fur jacket with some curtains, obviously related to weather Also, people dance on salsa and cumbia music instead of Dutch folklore I would be very surprised if they did. Instead of dressing up themselves, carnaval participants just dress up their pet animals against their will, exposing them on stages with music louder than those fragile ears can handle. What looks like a polluted, shabby city park on the outside is in fact an immense inner-city oasis. An amphitheatric cave embracing an ice-cold sinkhole, allowing the townsmen to rinse off the city fumes and cool down the brain. Not me though. While checking out the water I ran into an old persisting youth trauma: band-aids. Nevertheless, I was obligated to participate, being forced to jump into a swimming pool standard full of floating band-aids and gauze. I would see them approaching me while swimming underwater with my eyes open, I would feel them stroking my leg, I would step in them with my bare feet on the poolside… Up until today they return in my nightmares, me falling face down in 5-meter-garbage-bins full of humid stinky band-aids. I rather admired it from a distance, valuing the layers of earth and natural splendour like a wedding cake: a layer of trees and grass, a layer of rock, a layer of water. All in the middle of the city, I was impressed. I was impressed in general. Valladolid did more to me than Cancun , Tulum or all these touristy hotspots together. This service is and will remain free.

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