My experience in a Cenote

Cenote Closed

Long before fate (assuming such a thing exists) made me a citizen of the Yucatan Peninsula, first of Playa del Carmen, then of Cancun, Afterwards, I traveled to Yucatan on an adventure that included Cancun and Merida, which meant several hours on the road connecting these two beautiful cities for those involved. Unbeknownst to us at the time, this road hides magnificent treasures located just a few steps away.

Back from the “White City” and tired from a trip that had left us little time for rest, our driver decided, and very wisely I must mention, that we should stretch our legs and have something to eat. For such purposes, he parked the truck on the side of the road, in a small lot that with a rustic wooden message announced a cave with a Cenote, of course he had heard of cenotes before traveling to Cancun and of course, he had a basic idea of what it was, however he ignored something transcendental when talking about these mythical and quasi-religious places, iconic sites of Cancun and the Riviera Maya: nobody, absolutely nobody can tell you the beauty that hides a Cenote, if your eyes don’t do it.

Cavern Cenote

At first glance and from the road, it would have been impossible for anyone unfamiliar with the area to guess what that piece of land and its wooden sign were hiding: a small door leading to a staircase that seemed to unfold as you walked down it, descending into a cave and revealing unforgettable images that still linger in my mind today. The high
ceiling of the cave, majestically adorned with hundreds of stalactites, appeared like a sigh from the depths of my being, amazed by the indescribable beauty of an unknown place. Awed by its beauty, I continued down until finally the great vault that formed the cenote was completely visible. The feeling it gave me was almost indescribable, almost a tear, an infinite contemplation. I continued descending to find the water, but my mind continues to contemplate the image of that day, the postcard that this place imprinted in my mind.

A ray of light timidly descended through a hole in the ceiling (which is actually the floor) and rested on a semicircular stone that was almost in the center of the small pool of crystal-clear, fresh water that formed the bottom of the cave, clean, pure water, filtered over millions of years during which the peaks that decorate the ceiling of the cave were formed and ended up creating a sublime canvas.

The rest of the story doesn’t say much. The waters of this beautiful cave helped us relax for a few minutes while our food was being prepared upstairs. We ate and drank with that country hospitality that is so rare these days, and then we continued on our way. Soon we were back at the Cancun airport, ready to return home. But the image of such a beautiful place is what I took back with me the first time I was in Cancún. Maybe that’s why I came back, maybe that’s why I never left, because rather than taking something with me, I stayed here, contemplating one of nature’s whims, which has accompanied me ever since and reminds me that this is where I want to be.

Cenotes, magical places.