Monday, November 18, 1996
We woke up at about 5 a.m. because we noticed the bus wasn't moving. My companion asked around and found out that there was a bridge out, and that there would be a four-hour delay. The driver let us out during the wait, and it was then that I met the first English speaker of my trip. He was a New Zealander who had been backpacking South America for several months. Pretty brave guy for a 25-year-old who doesn't speak Spanish.
We finally made it to a back-ass detour, and at one point everyone had to get off again while the bus crossed a muddy stream. The driver felt that it weighed too much with everyone on it. Quite an experience.
We arrived in Merida about lunch time and took a cab to the hotel that someone I met on the internet recomended. Really nice place, for $10/night.
Another view of Merida