COZUMEL, MEXICO was the last port of call on our western Caribbean cruise. Inna and I have been there many times. And we knew the major attractions, the Mayan ruins of Tulum and Chichén Itzá, are a total pain in the ass to get to from the island.
First you wait in a long line at the terminal to hop an always crowded, 45-minute, roller coaster, not really high speed ferry to the mainland. The long water passage is invariably windy and the waves make for a bumpy ride. Then you need to catch a hot-packed rickety bus for an hour-long ride to the archaeological site of your choosing. And then the fun really starts as you and a thousand other sweaty tourons trudge your way around the noisy mob scene at the ancient stone ruins.
I visited both of the Mayan treasures back in the early eighties and we camped around each ruin. It was totally chill. In those long gone days, the cruise ship industry didn’t exist, so we pretty much had both jungle gems to ourselves over the course of a week. And I want that to always be my memory of Mexico’s most spectacular Mayan ruins.
These days, Cozumel is a champion cluster fuck. There were never less than five cruise ships docked at the three bustling terminals during our two-day stay. Imagine what that translates into for the local economy. It’s like a license to print money.
There are also, of course, the all-enclosed, all-inclusive tropical paradise resorts that are testaments to the wretched excess of modern civilization, where you can spend a week in a luxurious cultural ghetto without ever leaving your comfort zone. That said, it’s fun as shit.
But Cruise World dominates the city center. And the party never stops.
Ocean Boulevard weaves along the waterfront from the east side of Cozumel to the west. A distance of about thirty miles. The section running through downtown is lined with giant statues of big-titted golden mermaids and blue-muscled mermen, interspersed with bronze busts in memory of famous Mexican political thieves. It’s a shabby and gaudy example of unauthentic Mexico, like the Mar Y Juana restaurant bar, Viva Mexico souvenirs, popular favorites like Senor Frog’s and Hooters, pharmacies hawking Viagra and diet pills, scooter and bike rentals, and hole in the wall shops selling hideous Mexican trinkets like wrestling masks and skulls sporting the logo of NFL teams. There seemed to be nothing there for the locals and was geared entirely for the touron trade.
And while it’s easy to make fun of all the ticky-tack crap, it is obviously what the tourons want and expect. “Give the people what they want” is the number one rule in business and entertainment. Why should it be any different in Cozumel, Mexico?
So, what Inna and I saw as tasteless junk, has been carefully calculated to capture the average consumer from wherever on earth, and relieve them of their money.
I guess you might say the Pirates of the Caribbean live on today in but a different guise.
