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Holbox, a little paradise in the Mexican Caribbean.

In two weeks we’ve travelled half of Middle America and its surroundings. From Mexico we went to Guatemala, then on to Belize, and later up north, entering into Mexico again. It felt like coming back home. The bus driver bribed the policeman at the border with a bottle of rum and he, in turn, didn’t charge us anything. It’s good that we share a common language, because the rest of the tourists had to pay 25 dollars a piece, and so he raked it in.

The next day we went to Tulum, the only Mayan remains next to the ocean. The ticket to enter the site had been validated a week ago, so who knows how many people shared the same admission document. On the way back, the cab drivers at the taxi stand offered three different prices even though all of them had an official list of rates that certified their offer. In the afternoon we took a guagua to Playa del Carmen. The normal thing to do is to take a collective taxi; it costs the same and it’s faster. But we didn’t trust them. Even the locals told us they were untrustworthy.

We’ll stay a couple of days more in the Mexican Caribbean and then we’ll leave for Cuba. After so much free-market capitalism with an aroma of small time crookery, we look forward to going back to a Communist country. It might be fun. Hispanic-style Marxism with an insular touch. Too bad the Comandante has lost a bit of his glamour and goes around wearing an Olympic jogging suit instead of his revolutionary garb. Talking about Olympics, if there’s a boycott against Beijing ’08, this champion of Communism may be capable of showing up for a 1,500 meters race just to show his support for his Chinese comrades. It would be hilarious to see him winning and climbing to the podium while refusing the gold because it’s a symbol of imperialistic capitalism. “My rival colleagues mount with me this egalitarian step. In Cuba, no one loses, everyone wins.” And so forth, for hours and hours until he starts winding down.