On Christmas morning, we set off for Palenque, our final destination. The road was a solid mass of topes and there was a village at every tope. Around every corner was either a blue tarp covered with coffee beans drying in the sun or a long shed over rows and rows and white and yellow garments.




We stopped for lunch by the side of the road so that Jim and Stanley could botanize. They found trees dripping with bromeliads and orchids. Rori and I guarded the rental car. Good thing because along came a man and four sons leading two cows. It could have been a threatening situation, but we managed to stave off an attack by bribing the boys with leftover melon. Dad asked us not to photograph the boys - afraid I might take their souls home with me all neatly digitized - but I assumed the cow they left to graze was fair game.

Our hotel, just down the road from the ruins was the Kin-Ha. Although it was undergoing some additional construction (true at almost every turn), it was a delightful place right down to the tree which shaded the buffet line.