Celestun

The aptly named Bird Island

Pelicans and Cormorants just chilling.

Celestun's famous flamingos in flight.

Due to the rough condition of the water, the flamingos were restless, leaving us little chance to observe them standing still.

And they're off again....

In the background, there are about a bazillion flamingos, but the water was too shallow for us to get to them.

Not to knock the guy but there is some awkward looking flying going on here.

After visiting the flamingos, we cruised around the mangroves for awhile.

I decided to change it up for my second Mexican day-trip. I had done culture and ruins on day one, day two was going to be dedicated to nature, so I set off for Celestun, a flamingo sanctuary, about 60 miles from Merida. Being so close, it should have been a short drive, but since I took a local bus, I was treated to the proverbial scenic route. I was particularly dismayed after waking up from a 45 minute nap to find that I had not even left Merida yet. And it wasn't like we were just hitting bus stations, anyone who felt so inclined could flag the bus, regardless of where they were, and they often did. 2 1/2 hours and many small towns later, we finally arrived. The last stop was only two blocks from the beach and it took just a few minutes before I was approached by a boat owner offering rides to see the flamingos. Since the cost of the trip is determined by the number of passengers, I joined a Mexican couple in waiting for more participants. Soon we were joined by a family of four (also from Mexico). We all climbed aboard a small boat (well all except Yolita, a sweet older woman who made it clear she was not wading through the cold surf in order to clamor aboard this boat, her we picked up at a nearby dock) and set off across the gulf. The weather was iffy and the water pretty rough, making for more of a thrill ride than expected, but everyone happily went along with our speed happy captain. Once we entered the estuary, the bouncing subsided significantly and soon we spotted the stars of the show. There was pink as far as the eye could see, we had now entered into flamingo mania. I had to use all of my willpower to refrain from yelling "Fly, Pelican Fly!", not knowing how well it would translate to Spanish. The birds, always so graceful and subdued in photos, were a rowdy, skittering bunch, who would take flight anytime any of us had our cameras focused. He told us that he often had clients that would ask him to make them fly, but since it is illegal to harass the flamingos, he was unable to comply with their request, and here we were asking him if he could get them to settle down. Seeing as he was not carrying any 'mingo tranquilizers, there was not much he could do for us either, but the sight of all those long necks and limbs filling the sky was pretty damned impressive, too, so everyone was ok with this as well. After maybe a half hour of watching them, our captain drove us through the mangroves, stopping along the way to point out the various trees and birds. He deposited us at a spring, where we were free to swim but all opted for bird (and fish)-watching instead. As we lay there relaxing, he gave us two options, we could bouncy-bounce our way across the gulf back to the beach or he could drop us off at the start of the estuary, sparing us the worst of it. From there we could take a bicycle-taxi back to the beach for less than $1. I wish all decisions were as easy as that one. So after getting off the bicycle-taxi, I bee-lined it to one of the beachside restaurants. I knew I had to get some food and drink into my system before even thinking of that long ride back...