Escape to Mexico: Part 2- Casa Nomis and Isla Mujeres

L had returned to London and it was agreed I would stay over at hers the night before our early morning flight. I dramatically made it on to the tube within an inch of the sliding doors and proceeded to dampen my victory upon sitting when my luggage loudly fell over and slid across the carriage. Only then did I remember to tie it to the railing. Taking an hour and a half to drag my luggage to hers wasn’t a fun prospect but made sense when we could catch a 20-minute train from hers to the airport.

When she opened the front door, I was relieved to see her in bright spirits and seemingly recovered for the most part from her illness. She’d dyed her hair bright red and looked fantastic. Another one of her friends was round and we spent the evening chatting and building our excitement for the next morning over Mexican takeaway. Now L and T (my travel buddy for Rhodes) are quite different as travellers. T and I like to be over prepared whereas L is more relaxed. I wanted to be at the airport 3 hours in advance. L was happy to get there with an hour to spare. We compromised with an hour and a half to spare. I knew I was being irritating, considering it was a very quick train to the airport from hers, she was right not to worry. I knew I would feel calmest when we were finally on the plane.

It was 0 degrees Celsius that morning. Quite literally freezing. Frost sparkled on the ground and it filled me with glee. When I’d gone to Rhodes it was just as boiling back in the UK, this time we’d be getting a little slice of Summer in the midst of Winter. We breezed through check in and security and were due for yet more surprises on the plane itself. For a long flight like this, British Airways provides you with headphones a blanket and a pillow, with a little screen that offered films, series and games.

It was hilarious watching L’s frustration at angry birds. Later we would simultaneously watch the trashy first few episodes of some random season of ex on the beach, discussing what we would do should an ex randomly turn up on holiday. Luckily this was not one of our real life concerns. I was surprised to find out that unlike I was used to on budget airlines, the food and drink was free. I could have as many alcoholic beverages as I liked. The holiday had truly begun. L wouldn’t partake as she was still finishing her antibiotics but had nothing against my own indulgence, which surely would make this long flight pass all the more smoothly.

It was about 11 hours long after all. They provided us with mini pretzels as snacks. The first meal was chicken and mash with spinach in a delicious sauce, a pasta salad, bread and butter, cheese and crackers with a crumble for dessert. There were choc ices in the interlude but at that point drinks needed to be rationed. Dinner was a delicious chicken curry with rice and peas with a side salad. Dessert was a sumptuous chocolate and caramel pot with cream. Honestly it was the best flight food I’d ever had. A promising start.

At last, we arrived. We landed just before 5pm local time, early evening, but we could already feel how much warmer it was. Making it through customs, I was a bit taken aback when we were led off to a separate area where everyone was having their luggage searched. I’d never encountered that before. But luckily, we had a friendly guard who seemed more interested in chatting to us than peering too closely at the contents of our bags, so this introduction to the country was over quickly and without stress.

As we exited Cancun airport we were met with a swarm of taxi vendors, trying their best to get our custom by calling out to the “beautiful British ladies”.We were grateful for the pre-booked transfer and L ran to get us some water from the supermarket as we waited. As with much of the world, you can’t drink the tap water in Mexico. Lesson for my reader, don’t buy that at the airport. For four big bottles it was something crazy like £25.

As we sat in the taxi, we passed towering palm trees that seemed to glow in the sunset. As I watched the surroundings of this new place fly past our window, I was struck by a sudden sense of sonder. A word I love and a feeling that is always triggered by travel. The sudden realisation that every passerby is living a life as complex and vivid as your own. How different that can be all across the world. The American influence here was clear as the bright orange eyes of Hooters advertisements seemed to watch us from the highway.

As we drove on, the streets we entered began to seem more derelict, with barking dogs marking them. We didn’t see many shops, but there were small clusters of people, dressed simply for the heat. Kids playing, a small vendor here and there, a huddle communing. We finally neared Casa Nomis. Our nerves were increasing as we realised we were definitely nowhere near the popularised resorts. It wasn’t quite what we’d expected from the photos, but it seemed we would at least be getting somewhat of a more authentic experience. We came to a stop outside what appeared to be the only corner shop in the area. There was an enclosed patio out front, lined with potted plants and arcade type games, the lights flashed at us jovially.

It wasn’t clear where this Airbnb might be, but there had been a worn, painted sign outside that did say Casa Nomis. Was this the place? It seemed our only option was to go inside the shop and enquire. The man at the front didn’t speak a lot of English and we did our best with broken Spanish. He motioned for us to wait and went to fetch someone from out back. A friendly man who spoke good English and had to be the owner of the Airbnb came out to greet us. He brought with him a set of our keys and took us round the front to a door on the left that we hadn’t noticed at first. It opened to a corridor that led to a set of concrete stairs going up to a second door with a metal lock. The double layer of security was reassuring. Once through that door, we were led past a little sink with what appeared to be a coffee machine.

There was a table and chairs opposite a dusty day bed outside, adorned with plastic vines and flowers climbing up the four poster. Opposite that was an open area with a bit of astroturf grass, two comically large chairs in the shape of hands and a hanging basket chair on the other side. A set of double glass doors with a rusty looking keyhole led to our room. No keycards here then.

The door slid to reveal a spacious double room with a king-size bed. There was a small sofa, a fridge and thankfully aircon. The bathroom was in a tropical style, with the right side having large potted green plants and a scattering of stones for decoration. We were a bit nervous. This didn’t feel as safe as a hotel and I’d never experienced an Air BnB outside of the UK. But it was night time in an unfamiliar place, everything would feel brighter in the morning and the room itself was comfortable. The bed definitely contributed to that. We could both splay and starfish to our hearts’ content without ever disturbing each other.

The actual falling asleep bit turned out to be the difficult part. A choir of dogs barking continued their discourse throughout the night. Just as it fell silent, L exclaimed, “at last!” In a loud whisper. “Don’t,” I whispered back, “you’ll jinx us.” Sure enough, the dogs decided we hadn’t had enough. We both erupted into exasperated laughter as we tried to fall asleep again. Mexico is 6 hours behind the UK. We woke just before dawn to the new backing track of roosters, the early morning echoed with them. I accepted it as part of having that authentic experience. No Mexican roosters at the resorts I assumed. Falling asleep again seemed pointless now as we adjusted to the time difference and L decided it was time to get up, explore and make us coffees.

The owner had mentioned a terrace upstairs. L went to have a look as I was getting up and bounded back into the room to exclaim that it was brilliant and I had to take a look for myself whilst she figured out the coffee machine. To get there you had to cautiously climb a rickety, rusted staircase. But when you got up, it was worth it. Watching the sunrise from this high vantage point was strikingly beautiful in its realism. It wasn’t what you’d expect to see in a brochure. It was an insight into real people’s lives, a mishmash of pastel-coloured buildings, some showing more wear and tear than others, interspersed with tropical trees. Birds I didn’t recognise flitted coquettishly across the sky. The “pool” that we’d seen in the photos on this terrace was more like a concrete paddling pool. But it was cute, as were the little seats spread around along with more astroturf.

L came to join me upstairs; we breathed it all in. The excitement of a new morning in a new place so completely different to the one before. The rush of being the only ones up to experience it. L suggested we meditate together. As we were about to sit and settle down, the peace was disturbed by something entirely unexpected. An ambush. We were caught in what felt like a snow flurry of white specks. At first, I thought it was ash. Where on earth was it coming from? I smelt no smoke. Dust then?

L started exclaiming that it was flies, comically swatting them away as she ran back to the stairs, patting herself down. Looking more closely as I tried to shield my eyes and nose, I realised she was at least partly right. They appeared to be tiny white moths. They were everywhere and I span around, trying to get them off me. But almost as soon as it’d begun, it was over. They mysteriously disappeared. I was left alone, embracing the peace again, peering up at the full moon, and the rising sun. Trading places to give colour to the homes surrounding us.

We got ourselves glammed up with bikinis and a crotchet cover up for L, a dress for me. Once settled, L was determined to see our meditation plan through and I was more than up for it. We lay on the daybed, and L put on a guided one with a focus on gratitude. The warm feeling was only boosted by the morning growing warmer itself. It was great to share this experience with a friend as not many of my circle are into that sort of thing. It would have been completely relaxing, if a giant bee hadn’t chosen to join on my side of the bed. It was my turn to jump up and run around frantically. To my credit I did rejoin the meditation once the bee had left the imposter flowers on the four poster.

Meditation concluded; it was time to begin our trip in earnest. L was the itinerary queen for this, with a clear idea of what she wanted us to visit. Which suited me perfectly, I was more than happy for her to take the lead and found all the same things interesting. She’d put together a pretty impressive powerpoint outlining what we could do whilst recovering from her illness and I have her to thank for just how much we managed to fit in.

Our first outing was to the aptly named Isla Mujeres (Bay of Women). A short taxi ride brought us to the ferry that would take us there and it only cost about $15. Once on board we went up to the top deck and took our seats, serenaded by a talented gentleman playing the guitar at the front. Once we got going, the wind whipping our hair and the ocean stretching out around us, L found herself shivering in her cover up and I was glad for my dress, something that would contrastingly feel an encumbrance once facing the melting heat on the island.

Upon arrival, we were met with swarms of bikini clad tourists and decorated buildings. We simply followed our feet in terms of exploring as, much of the time in Mexico, we had little to no signal on our phones. We found our way to a line of colourful letters announcing the name of the island next to a pristine, white sand beach that was fairly deserted, though we reminded ourselves it was early yet and a sign stating that no swimming was allowed at this part of the beach gave further reasoning. Having not consumed anything but our coffees that morning, we went back towards the town in search of sustenance.

We passed a few stalls, but didn’t see anything that would satisfy our need for breakfast food. Venturing back into town a large man professed his loud admiration of the gorgeous L who informed him we were looking for somewhere good to eat breakfast. He gave us directions to Café Mogagua, which turned out to be a gorgeous little café, brightly decorated and with free Wifi. There I had the best breakfast burrito and ice coffee I’d ever sampled whilst L had an insta worthy acai bowl. A part of me regrets not having the same as her, I had many a burrito on the rest of the trip, but no other acai bowl compared to the one I saw at that café. Even though an acai bowl itself I associate with Brazil.

Upon leaving the cafe, as would become a running theme in walking down the street, every vendor called out to us, imploring us to seek out their wares. One persuasive and talented Tequila salesman managed it....

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Stay tuned and follow along to see what happened next on the Isla Mujeres. Any hearts appreciated if you're enjoying my journey so far. Don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts in the comments as well as anything else you might like to see written about!

Here's Part 1 if you missed it: