In the morning, I made a huge arse of myself trying to pull up the anchor (all those years of never going to the gym finally paid off BIGTIME) and before too long we had successfully manoeuvred into the marina and plonked ourselves down between two yachts.
Had a chat with Kerri on the CB (desperately trying to resist the overwhelming urge to get on channel 16 and shout Calling all cars! Calling all Cars!) She reckoned immigration could take a day or so to complete. Johnny wasn’t convinced so hopped into his trusty dingy and shot off to town. I just had time to have a (long overdue) poo and pack my stuff when he returned to say it all looked quite straight-forward. No medical, no sniffer dogs, just head over to Immigration, get stamped in, then see the port captain and get stamped off the crew list and we were done.
And so I came to say goodbye to the old lady of the sea – she held together magnificently on our little jaunt; save a broken cleat, a broken griller, two torn sails, the main sail slipping off the mast, a couple of damaged sheets and a host of other major and minor technical issues. Actually, it’s a miracle she made it all in one piece – there are just so many things that can – and do – go wrong on the yacht. Scares the bejesus out of me. Good job I’m invincible.
A bus left for Mexico City at 6pm from Cancun (very ugly concreted place, Isla Mujertas is much nicer), so we jumped on one of the frequent ferries over the water, squeezed onto a local bus, had a few final beers and then it was time to say adios to Captain Johnny, but with any luck we will be learning more of his wisdom during the great South Pacific island hop next October.
So on the bus and one the LONG road north to Halifax, Canada. A whopping five day bus ride. And I haven’t had a shower since Key West. Nice!
The Mexican bus, as predicted, was great. LOADS of leg room, some great movies to watch (dubbed into Spanish, but hell, it improves my bitchin’ skills) and a lovely American girl called Leigh to chat to. She was a nurse in Iraq.
We drove past a huge complex of Mayan pyramids, all lit up beautifully in the night air. There are sirens out there – stuff of the world I want to stop and see, but this is not that story. This is the story of one guy trying, against the odds, to step foot in every country in the world this year and I’m six weeks behind.
Strap me to the mast, the sirens will have to wait.