About an hour's drive from our resort and some 44 kilometres to the northwest of Tulum lies the small town of Cobá, a nondescript place of about 1,300 inhabitants, surrounded by the Yucatan jungle. But hidden around this town, within the jungle itself, lies the ruins of a vast city that may have been home at one time to 80,000 people.
Again, DW and I arose early, well before the restaurants opened for breakfast. The restaurant closest to our room was just beginning to lay out some breakfast pastries, and there was a coffee dispenser that was always open, so we grabbed a few snacks and hit the road.
We wanted to reach the Cobá ruins before the gates opened.
It cost 50 pesos to park in the vast lot at the trail head to the ruins, but because we arrived so early we were able to park in a shaded area. That shade remained the entire time that we were there. Only a handful of visitors were waiting for the gates to open, at 8:00: a shuttle bus with about a dozen German tourists and a family of four, with young kids.
Good, we thought. The kids won't be able to keep up with us.
It cost 70 pesos each to get in, plus they wanted the same 45-peso fee for the use of "professional" cameras and video devices that we had paid when we entered Tulum, two days earlier. When I paid that fee, I noticed that the permit neither designated the site nor the date for which the permit was valid, so I told DW that I would use the old permit. If they questioned it (if they even asked to see it), I would pay for another one.
As with the people at Tulum, the folks who were attending Cobá never asked to see the permit.
DW and I were at Cobá with a purpose: reach the Nohoch Mul Pyramid first, climb it, and then take our time visiting the other structures. The Nohoch Mul Pyramid, at 42 meters, is the tallest historic structure on the Yucatan Peninsula and the only Mayan pyramid that can still be climbed.
Because of its popularity, DW and I wanted to reach it before the crowds arrived. But we had a lot of competition.
The German tourists had the same idea. We all made our way the short walk inside the grounds to a bike-rental hut. For 50 pesos each, DW and I grabbed a couple of bikes and started riding. DW attached our 360-degree camera to its selfie stick, extended it, and strapped it to her backpack. And we were off.
While we beat several of the Germans, there were a few who stuck right with us. When we reached the pyramid, we dismounted and hustled to the structure, which looks like it was crumbling. DW, with the video camera running, moved around the base and then started her ascent. I set up my D-SLR and moved a little slower in capturing images.
Running from the top of the pyramid staircase to the bottom, and along the middle, is a heavy-duty rope, which you can use to help with your climb. I used it both ways. Because I'm still not sure-footed, after my surgery, I wanted to ensure that I had something to grab hold of.
The stone steps were uneven, small, and often smoothed by many years (centuries?) of use. Though some of the younger Germans in the group were able to move at a faster pace, I still held my own.
I did lose sight of DW, who had trained for weeks by climbing the stairs in her office building.
It was exhausting work and I realized just how out of shape I was. My breathing was loud and laboured, and as I passed the halfway point, I had to stop to catch my breath. A German woman or about my age, who had passed me on the ascent, was sitting on the steps, wheezing. I gathered my strength and continued.
The view was spectacular. We were well above the treetops, and the only thing you could see, apart from miles of endless jungle, was the peak of Cobá's other pyramid, which cannot be climbed. We marvelled at the view, took scads of photos and video footage, but mostly rested.
When the top of the pyramid became too crowded, DW and I began our descent. I hung onto the rope and climbed, backwards, in the same position that I took climbing the stairs. At times, I could feel the slippery, smooth stones, and often had to search for my next foothold, and I have to admit: I was a bit terrified. I'm afraid of heights, though I can manage it, but when I'm not on steady footing, all bets are off.
It took us longer to get down than climb up, but once we were on solid ground, I felt better. We got on our bikes and rode back, stopping at every other site on our way back.
All the while, there was a buzzing noise high above us. Though it sounded like millions of bees, it reminded me more of the murmur of a crowd. Were these the voices of those 80,000 citizens from centuries ago?
We stopped at the temples, the ball courts, and other ruins. We tried to make out the engravings on the stelae, the stone tablets that tell the stories of the Mayan history. Occasionally, I would see what I thought was a bee—totally stationary, hovering like a drone, its wings barely discernible, like a guard at attention. Neither moving toward me out of aggression nor away, out of fear. Were these old guardians of the temples, ensuring the peace was kept, even today?
Having cycled to all the sites, we returned the bikes and walked around the last few sites—the other pyramid and another ball court—before leaving the gates and returning to our still-shaded car.
Tour groups were crowding these sites and a long lineup awaited at the gates. Once again, it paid to arrive early.
Already, the day was shaping up to be a hot one, but our adventure was not done. We drove past the town for a few more kilometres until we came to a cenote (underground pool), Tankach-Ha. Accessed from a wooden spiral staircase, more than 15 metres below the surface, this was a cool cavern in which to cool off.
The wooden staircase has two platforms from which you can jump into the clear, cool water. DW jumped twice from the five-metre platform and then braved the 10-metre jump. I gathered courage to jump from the five-metre platform, worried about how my foot would take it. It took it just fine.
I jumped again from the platform, this time, holding onto one of our video recorders. I shared it, through Instagram.
We stayed for about a half-hour or so, until we were cooled, relaxed, and our stomachs once again reminded us to head back to the resort.
With only one more morning before we had to return our rental car, we had two more cenotes to visit. More to come...
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