Our Port in the Quiet Storm

We’ve walked our bikes more than we’ve ridden them since we left Palapa. We’re also trekking on a road that we shouldn’t be after treading through a place we shouldn’t have and are not going to go back the same way we came. “How much further do you think we can go?” She asks me in her thick Scottish accent. “We’ll have to find our way back soon before the sun starts to go down and it gets too dark. I’m sure there’s just more resorts further down anyway.” I respond. “Okay. I’m just glad we made it out of that crazy spot. I thought we were going to get shot, shot at or attacked by all these dangerous reptiles everywhere.” “I’m glad nothing happened too. It was kind of creepy.” Trying to remember my geography and out of curiosity, I ask “I know it’s much too far but technically if we keep going north we’ll make it to the Costa Maya right?” “Yes to Quintana Roo, Mexico.” She answers.

The mud is getting deeper and more difficult to traverse and we haven’t seen any other signs of life for over an hour making it harder to push forward. At this point we’ve constantly battled murderous sandflies and mosquitoes, dodged uncaring cars, gotten stuck in unforgiving mud, trespassed on dangerous property, and now we’re lost under an intense but fading sun somewhere north of San Pedro in Ambergris Caye. We’re sun beaten, filthy, hungry and dehydrated so with good reason, she begins to worry that we should start heading back. Just then I see something in the distance carving contrast out of the sun covered and becalmed water.

“I wonder what that is?” She asks. “It looks like some sort of dock with a few chairs.” I answer. “Who does it belong to?” “I’m not sure but let’s check it out then head back to the hotel.” The walk is arduous and mud riddled but reinvigorated by new purpose.

We drop our bikes at the entrance of the dock without even bothering to look around as we know we’re alone. Walking over the now muddied planks of wood, they dip and creak over the sound of the deafening silence that surrounds us. She decides to sit in one of the chairs while I stand in front of the sun to provide her shade. After what we’ve been through, it’s so nice to have a place to rest before the long and grueling trip back to San Pedro.

“It’s so beautiful and peaceful. This is really nice. Thanks for hanging out and helping me get my mind off of splitting up with my boyfriend.” “No problem. It’s nice to have some company as I’m usually the lone wolf.” “I don’t even want to go back.” “To Cancun? Do you have to go back?” “Ya, my stuff is still on his yacht and it’s all I have. Seriously fuck Cancun I’m so sick of it.” “It seems like you have some bad memories there. It would be hard for anyone to go back. I’ve never been and it doesn’t really interest me but if I ever did make my way there I’d skip it and just go to Tulum.” “That’s a smart idea. It’s so beautiful down there and not riddled with all the filth that comes with a resort city.” “Drugs and other vices you mean?” “Ya it’s hard to get away from it there and it’s so sad.” “Well that’s everywhere but you’re away from it all if only for this moment.” I tell her stepping down to the lower portion of the dock to sit and look out at the water. “Thank you.” Is all she says.

So much turbulence in her head juxtaposed by a setting so serene. Soon enough though she begins to come down from her emotions while staring out at the placid water. I find an air of comfort hidden in her silence. She doesn’t say anything else.

I didn’t know she took this picture of me.

On the dock


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