Tuesday, 28 September 2004 | Cabaña one, Mrs. Stanwyk?

[Tulum, Mexico]

On the bus ride to Tulum, a little tan hand poked out from behind my seat and landed on my shoulder. As soon as I acknowledged it (by turning around and smiling, mostly), it retreated like a turtle into its shell, and its owner let out a little laughing yelp. (The noises were distinctly Spanish, even though no words were produced.) Sometimes, instead of a hand, two little dark brown eyes would peek at me from between the cracks. Again, I'd acknowledge the gesture and the pleased scream would follow. This went on until Martin and I got off at our stop.

Instead of a traditional hotel, we decided to stay at a cabaña, a little cabin made of sticks and straw that sat right on the beach, forty feet from the creeping waves. It was cheap (not cheap enough, it turned out), and was surrounded by tropical plants and surging forest sounds. The moon was full and lit up the area like Las Vegas, which was important, since the generator-powered electricity was terminated at 11:30 p.m.

Miriam, a girl from Holland, took our money and gave us keys. She'd been working at the hotel for three months, after having passed through as a traveler herself. It seemed like an endorsement.

The view was incredible, even at night, and we went swimming in the shallow water before finding our way back to the bizarre little hut, passing clusters of moonlit spiky trees and people lazily draped in hammocks.

But the mosquitos. The mosquitos were relentless, just as the noise of the water crashing into the shore was relentless. They perched on our arms and faces and legs with their wiry and delicate frames, creating patterns of itchy welts in their wake. At some point during the night, the wind that was breathing through the sticks stopped altogether, leaving a muggy mosquito-laden heaviness behind. At some other point during the long night, it started to rain, some of the water sneaking through the thatched roof and through the sheet that I'd been hiding under.

We're still in Tulum, but tonight we've got walls.

I swear I'm having a great time, regardless of how it may sound.