After arriving in Cancun and navigating my way down to Playa Del Carmen, my journey began in earnest with an immersion, almost as if into a bucket of ice water, to the beast that is La Quinta Avenida. The vibrant chaos of the streets, marked by a collage of sounds, colors, and aromas, was a sensory overload. Amidst the hustle, the alluring scent of Mexican cuisine was a constant temptation. I initially felt a bit out of place, trudging down the avenue with my luggage in tow, but quickly realized that I was not alone. This was tourist central.
I made my way to our hotel, Hotel Lunata, right off the avenue around 6th street. It was a cozy place, replete with warm terracotta, vibrant blue tiles, and napping Welcome Gato. The reception was very friendly, willingly conversed in the half-spanish I could muster, and off I went to my room, Cordelia. I ventured out for dinner and wanted to try to find someplace more authentic than the avenue fare and didn’t need to wander far. I went to a place called Gusto Gourmet, lured in by a promising street sign. I gambled on the grande pollo de la casa burrito, filled with chicken, peppers, onions cheese and guacamole. A nice fried tortilla on the outside, accompanied by two house sauces, a pineapple and habanero and a tamarind and habanero. Both were very fresh with a good burn. Then back to the hotel where I would discover that sleeping within earshot of Fifth Avenue would perhaps be my greatest challenge on this trip.
The highlight, however, was the spearfishing excursion with Ruben. In the lightening grey of the next morning, I met Ruben on a small beach in Playa del Carmen surrounded by Mexican pescadores preparing for various tours and excursions. He introduced me to his boat and explained that we would be underway shortly. When I asked about the conditions and his recent successes, he said that things were good, but today might be kind of difficult because of the recent rain and the wind causing a lot of sediment and reducing visibility. Plus, it was significantly overcast, which would hamper things as well. So off we went to a local reef to try our luck. On the way, Ruben explained everything I needed to know to get started spearfishing. Soon we were in the water and swimming shoulder to shoulder, peering through the haze of freshwater and sediment, trying to spot fish below.
He indicated a few times that he would dive down close to the bottom to check under ledges and in different crevices, trying to spot snapper or grouper or hogfish. He also encouraged me to practice diving, to get a feel for the rhythm of holding my breath and finding a spot in the water column from which to observe the fish and engage in the actual hunting aspect of spearfishing. Our first spot was a bust though, very few fish were out and about and none of them were harvestable. We soon moved to a new reef spot past a trio of underground rivers that he suspected were causing the heavy sediment in the water. This spot was better, with more reef fish to observe and more ledges to inspect, but the visibility was still fairly low and the overcast nature of the day meant the overall fish population was just not as dense as we would have hoped for. However, as luck would have it, a large triggerfish ambled out of the haze and right past Reuben, who quickly spotted it. It was larger than a dinner plate and a relatively easy target, so he gave me the agreed-upon sign for “look there, shoot it”, so I trained my loaned spear gun at the fish and waited patiently to see what it would decide to do. It swam a bit closer to me, clearly not recognizing me as a threat, coming in within a couple meters or so. Just as it turned to start swimming away, I pulled the trigger. A quick jerk, a flurry of motion, and dinner was mine. Ruben went on to find a couple more hogfish for us to take back, while the lone triggerfish was the extent of my success today.
We swam around for another 30 minutes or so, but no more interesting opportunities presented themselves. I did spot one green sea turtle camped on the bottom peering up at me as I scanned for a target, but it had fled after I returned to the surface for air and went to look for it again. A quick boat ride back, during which the fish were cleaned and possibilities for their preparation discussed, and we were back at the beach. Ruben offered to deliver the fish for me to a restaurant that he could recommend would do them justice. I took him up on the offer, and off we went to meet the proprietor of Buzo’s, also Ruben. Introduced as “Tocayo”, or name twin, Ruben 2 offered to prepare the fish tonight and tomorrow night for myself and my “wife”, all delivered in classic Mexican stoicism. Show up whenever we want, let them know Chris with the fish is here, they’ll serve it all up. Grilled, ceviche, tacos, any and all ways were possible. I told him simply, do it your best way. He nodded, gave us a quick smile, and then I was ushered back to La Quinta Avenida and the touristy bustle that always accompanied it.
Upon my return that evening, I was greeted with warm service and some of the thickest tortilla chips I’ve ever seen. After ordering, deciding to let the chef decide his best way to prepare one of the fish I’d brought, I sipped a cerveza and watched the salsa dancing lessons that were the main event of the evening. I was eventually greeted by an amazing ceviche, popping with lime and onion, and a fish fry, rustic and tasty. I relaxed a bit more, topped the evening with a margarita, and made my way back to my hotel.
I unfortunately had to spend the next morning working on a project I had been unable to finish before I left but found some solace in Fresca and looking forward to a tasty lunch. I eventually made my way to a small collection of taco trucks, called Rico’s Tacos on Google maps. A quartet of meats, mixed with onions and cilantro, were piled high on doubled up corn tortillas. Numerous salsas were available as well, from the very mild tomatillo to a menacing-looking roja with habanero I was warned about. The carne asada and carnitas were ok, but the pollo and Al Pastor would definitely bring me back.
I spent the afternoon wandering and waiting for my partner to arrive on the same bus I’d taken from Cancun. I eventually met her at the station and we navigated Fifth Avenue, once more laden with luggage, while she reminisced about her time here some six years ago. A quick check-in at the hotel and we were back on the streets to make our way back to Buzo’s for round two. The culinary adventure continued with fresh guacamole, more of those fantastic thick chips, and more fresh fish. They again did not disappoint, but the restaurant was much quieter this time. Our only entertainment was the intermittent singing of our server as he joined in with the Mariachi playing on TV. A slow walk back to our hotel would bring the first chapter of our Mexican excursion to a close, where I was able to enjoy just a touch of schadenfreude as my partner discovered the thump of street music we could feel more than hear as we tried to fall asleep. Not that we’d have been able to sleep much either way, because the next day would be diving in the Cenotes!