Sunday 22nd January Rio Lagartos: We got a luxury bus at 2p.m. from Merida to Tizmni, it took two and on arrival in Tizimni we got on another bus to Rio Lagartos that got us there soon after five o’clock. We walked down to the seafront and then following instructions from one of the locals we found our hotel, Ville de Pescadores, as recommended by Tila back at the house. We dumped our stuff in the room and went straight up onto the roof to watch the sun go down sinking below the sea horizon. We are staying in a Nature reserve the lagoon is outlined by mangrove trees. We walked around the little town and it is very quiet apart from a vehicle circumnavigating the streets belting out music and an announcement, which I think may be political. At first I thought that there was a fiesta in the square but no such luck, just children playing. We ate in the hotel restaurant on this our first night. It was simple food, I had a delicious piece of fresh fish fried in butter and served with the house special rice and salad. We went to bed at about ten o’clock. The next day we got up at six and went to meet the fisherman with whom we had arranged to go and see the flamingos. The water was flat as we chugged quietly away from the jetty, we left in arc, which I was later to learn was a deep channel out as there are lots of sand banks. It was peaceful cruising through the mangroves, the wind on my face and as we rode directly into the rising sun we saw it change from orange to yellow to a blinding brightness as it rose higher in the sky. Francisco, our captain, slowing down pointed out various birds to us including frigates who had followed us out of our moorings, herons, egrets and a pair of osprey. I was so pleased to be here on this water safari and grateful to be with someone to share it with. Every now and then Francisco would go slowly alongside the mangroves, looking for crocodiles but there were none to be seen. Bearing in mind we were not given life jackets or any instruction on impending doom I didn’t know if I was pleased or not to see a crocodile. The lagoon is huge and we must have travelled for about half an hour, the frigates leading the way their sharp outline stark against the clear blue sky. The mangrove is dense and sometimes quite smelly, and then we would round a bend and into an open stretch of water before entering another narrow straight where the herons and egrets would stand and stare. Pelicans roosted on the bare branches of dead trees whilst other birds looked as if they were walking on water as they picked their way across a sandbank just under the water line. We saw a white pelican from Canada, and stopped to photograph a black eagle hawk perched up on top of one of the dead trees. Francisco threw a fish high up into the air for it to catch but before it got it’s talons on the fish a pelican came out of nowhere and swept it up in his huge beak. We went under an old wooden bridge where some of the workmen were fishing using a circular net with weights around the edge, we watched as they hauled out several large fish. On we sped towards the feeding area of the flamingos and I worried about the sun and wind on my face. As we rounded another bend into a wide open space Francisco pointed across and there were bright pink dots far away, the flamingos. He said that we had to go carefully now as the water was only 30cms deep. He used a pole to punt us towards the birds. We must approach them slowly as they need to feed for ten hours a day to conserve enough energy to fly in the early morning and the evening. One bird took flight whilst we were there but it was astounding to see these brightly coloured birds picking their way through the water walking together like soldiers, their spindly legs bending at a sharp angle at the knee as they tip toed through the shallows. It was difficult to know whether to take notes, photographs or just sit and watch them. I decided on the latter. As we left the area the birds were picked out in the bright sunlight they were as blossom on the water, such beauty and elegance was dreamlike in this peaceful place. The engine purred as we made our way to the salt fields nearby, they were grey and ugly next to the mangrove and lagoons. We poked the nose of the boat into the bank and Francisco helped us off and we scrambled up the salt bank, on the other side was the red lake. Red because of the small shrimp that live in the water, it is this creature that the flamingos feed on and what gives them their colour. On the return journey we cruised the mangrove again looking for a crocodile, I loved feeling the sun on my back as we sauntered through the lagoon. Then the boat turned full circle, Fransisco had seen a croc. He wasn’t very large and at first hard to see, he blended in so well with the muddy ground where he lay. He got up and went quickly to the water’s edge and slipped in right in front of us, we could see his eyes, but not for long, he disappeared under the water. We took off and only to slow down once more to , appeared once more to accompany us home. We pulled in at nine o’clock. We had breakfast at the hotel and then caught another boat to go to the beach, about ten minute ride out of the lagoon and into the open sea,; bearing right we were beached on the most beautiful white beach that stretched as far as the eye could see and nobody else was there. We asked the boatman to come back in three hours. There were open sided grass huts for shelter from the sun but we wanted to swim nd then we walked to the end of the beach, probably about half a mile where it turned a corner and carried on. It was perfect. In the afternoon we rented bicycles and cycled around the town getting to know it better at the farthest end was a deserted holiday place and a path indicated ‘Guadeloupe’ curious we followed it through the mangrove where it led to a church. The door was open and I ventured in; it was decorated with colourful paper flowers in true Mexican style. We cycled back with a warm breeze blowing on my glowing skin; you could hear the rattle of children playing and the cracked church bell clanging out the hour. At six o’ clock we went back up on the roof to watch the sun go down and watch the women arm in arm, take the paseo, walking around the streets, whilst the men sat on the sea wall talking. The hotel owner came up onto the roof and sat quietly when he left he spread out his arms and then with his hands in prayer he thanked God for such beauty, ‘and it’s free’ he said.
Flamingoes, Sunday 22nd January 2012
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