13 of October 2013

Well, friends, today the crazy rockers of the world are whooping it up at the Corona Capital while I sit in the wake of the setting sun in Puerto Aventuras at the Kanders’ home. Chris and I hung out at the house a bit before skipping off to go pool hopping, a pastime that works along the lines of movie hopping, if you know what I mean. We ended up at the chain locked gate to the local cenote, just a couple blocks from their house. I jumped up and slipped over the gate, beckoning to Chris to hurry up and climb over the nuisance of a fence. He hopped over, and the two of us ran along the dirt path to the place where the ground drops mysteriously to water a couple feet down. It gives the effect of a cup half filled, and at the bottom of the cup is the strangely illuminated floor of the cenote, in some places, over fifty feet down. I imagine it leads to an underground aquifer connected to the beach. The sun had set, and the surface of the water was eerily ink black, and of course freezing cold- it had a sinister atmosphere about it, with the hidden location behind locked gates and the deep, empty silence of it’s waters with the rusting ladder sunk below the surface. The mosquitos began to creep out with a haunting whine that told Chris and I it was time to go.

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