The Last Goodbye

Our last evening had arrived, and Emily sat in front of me looking sad and as unsure of our future as I was. The next day I was to leave for Caye’s Caulner and Emily was to go to Tulum on the north eastern coast of Mexico, but I couldn’t muster anything other than sadness. No. Dread. I actually physically dreaded parting from the person who had been my world for the last three months. Things hadn’t been easy, and we were both aware of that, but we were still there, sat together dreading the next morning. Neither of us wanted to part and as the evening passed my reasons for going to Belize diminished and my feeling of necessity to stay with Emily for another few days grew. Belize was supposed to be a beautiful laid back country unlike any country I had visited before. More like a Caribbean Island than a part of the otherwise totally Latin mainland, yet I knew that I would be miserable without her. So after sharing my decision to continue with her for a little longer, we both left to the tourist office to buy another ticket to Tulum in Mexico. Our journey would continue, even if only for a little longer.

The next day we woke early for our ride through northern Guatemala, Belize and then into Mexico. This would be another mammoth day journey travelling from 6am until late in the evening. Although the journey was not that bad as far as comfort, any 16 hour trip with 2 border crossings will almost never be a high point. It wasn’t. We arrived in Tulum shattered, and after checking into the first available, reasonably priced, hotel we crashed for the night. Fortunately our room had a comfortable bed and air conditioning, so at least the hot sticky night would not interrupt the sleep that we both craved for. The next couple of days were spent day tripping down to the utterly beautiful crystal clear waters of the Caribbean, hanging out at a swanky beach hotel resort after making friends with the bar staff. This was one of those occasions when being able to speak Spanish helped, as we could chat with the staff and take the piss out of the American holidayers who hadn’t managed to find time to learn ‘por favor’, ‘gracias’ and ‘si’. After watching the value of the pound dip over the past few months everything also began to feel, and become, a lot more expensive; especially the food. Both Emily and I were beginning to worry about our equal lack of money, and tried to spend as little as possible.

Yet again, Emily and I were faced with another rapidly approaching point of having to part ways. Every time this came we would both become subdued and sad, this was no exception. After visiting, and quickly leaving, yet more utterly disappointing Mayan Ruins (this time the Tulum ruins), we strolled along to the beautiful white sands to watch the sun set. We sat and talked of the future and our uncertainties on what it would hold for us, both scared that we wouldn’t see each other again. As the sun dipped behind us, the darkness crept up from the horizon, our shadows growing longer towards the water until they were no more. The next morning Emily would go on to have a few days in Playa del Carmen, whilst I would shoot up to Cancun in hope of somehow getting to Cuba. The likeliness of being able to catch a boat there was so remote it was almost zero, and I had no idea how long it would take to get a visa. The next morning came, after a quiet evening eating at our favourite spot just down the road, before having a beer and watching a film. We packed our bags and yet again everything told me to hang around for a little longer. Originally, Emily had said that she needed a few days on her own before a busy month in Texas, however had said the night before that she didn’t want to split off from me just yet. I kept quiet, mulling it over until the next morning. As it happened Cancun and Playa del Carmen were only around 30 minutes down the road from each other, so I decided to stay with Emily a few more days. After throwing a few small hints that I was staying, I eventually decided to put her out of her misery. Almost immediately the dark cloud was shelved for another few days, and we hopped on a bus to Playa del Carmen.

Playa was yet another over Americanised town, except this time perhaps a step further, with Starbucks, McDonalds, Subway, Ben and Jerrys and tens of other large American chain places. The small strip of beach had bodies everywhere, and everything was yet again dreadfully expensive. Emily and I retreated to a much cheaper, yet still quite pleasant, hotel for the first night. I was happy to be with Em for a little longer but this place was hell: a sort of Caribbean Benidorm. We found a cheap and cheerful restaurant named Billy the Kid that did tacos for 25p each and my how we feasted upon them. We left full and happy. As Emily got ready to go for a drink and wander to slip off for a cut throat shave at a traditional Mexican barbers, finally removing my considerably sizeable beard that was almost fit for Taliban membership. Emily almost didn’t recognise me, and throughout the evening I caught her looking at me strangely. I hadn’t realised that this was the first time she’d ever seen me clean shaven. Oh the life of a traveller: where people look at you strangely if you’ve shaved.

Our final days at Playa del Carmen were spent ambling around the town, looking for last minute gifts in the run up to homecoming and Christmas, and generally eating, drinking and preparing for the next month. On my side of the preparations I began my research on Cuba, purchasing my flight over in the process. However, every time I learnt something more about Cuba, it became more daunting. It became apparent that there was virtually no communications to the outside world, with only slow and extremely expensive internet. After some more research it became apparent that there were no hostels and that I would probably have to stay with a Cuban family (or in a £50 a night hotel), something which could potentially be enriching but ultimately lonely. My vision of an idealistic, wondrously different and cultural land was already starting to fall apart at the seams. The prospect of not just being away from Emily, but having no contact whatsoever began to loom over the both of us. I know that to some this may sound a little dramatic, somehow describing every potential parting as the proverbial fall over an unknown precipice, but in reality that’s kind of how it felt. For three months we had lived in each others’ pockets in a world totally devoid of our own. The fact that most travel relationships don’t work in the real world, or even make it far enough with the geographical and logistical complications, was one that we were well aware of. To put it simply, I was scared by the fact that we were about to enter the most challenging part of our relationship at a time when we would potentially have no way of communicating for a month. The word precipice felt rather apt at this point.

The final day came. My flight was due to leave at around 2pm and my bus would be leaving Playa del Carmen fairly early that morning. Emily was planning to stay, but wasn’t really looking forward to hanging around the town without me. Her flight was to leave the next day, so merely hours before my bus left I suggested that she came to the airport to see if there was any way she could change her flight to one a day earlier. She was really happy with that idea, as there was very little to want to stay in Playa for anyway. We jumped on the bus to the airport, once again thinking of nothing but the imminent parting of ways. That morning we had both been a little teary, and were trying to hold ourselves together. This time there was no doubt that we were going to be going in different directions. The bus pulled into the station, tickets were acquired and check-ins were performed, only leaving the gate to be walked through. We stood outside for a while holding each other, our kisses salted by the tears running from both of our eyes, both saying that it would only be a month apart before seeing each other again, but thinking that this could be the last time we ever saw each other.

After what seemed like an age, yet an unfairly short amount of time, I crossed through the gate looking back at Emily. We waved for the last time before walking away in our own separate directions. After finding another way to stay together time and time again we had finally had to say our last goodbye. Yet again, as I had been three and a half months before, I was back on my own to finish the adventure that I had dreamt up on a rainy afternoon in Warwick. All that was left was one more country and then home, so it was perhaps fitting that my final country was also to be the most challenging of them all.