The ignition ignites, gears engage; the throb of the electronic engine is almost orgasmic and suddenly we're off in our 'Doof, Doof' Golf Cart. We hoon around the streets of Isla Mujeres. The speedo maxs out at 25klms and we are like Lynard Skynyrd's Free Bird. The wind forms Picasso style friezes with our hair and inscets bypass the windscreen and land like dental floss across our teeth.
We are searching for the 3000 years old Mayan Ruins on an island that is 7.5klms long and 1klm wide; a piece of cake. Sorry! I forgot to mention that Brad is driving, following a map that he has committed to memory off the wall of our accommodation. After 2 complete laps of the island and with no Mayan ruins in sight, Brad finally admits that there may be a fault in the map back at the accommodation, or early on set Alzheimers had occurred or possibly it was the 8 Coronas he has had whilst driving that has caused the misadventure.
Finally, after some aminated conversation and 2 hours of aimless driving, we find our bearings. Brad has been allocated the position of designated drinker after a run in with an octogenarian on an electric scooter and Lea has taken over the controls of the Golf Cart. Within 5 minutes we arrive at the Mayan ruins which are surrounded by a bizzare series of rusted out sculptures. Set on an outcrop of rocks that hangs over the Caribbean Sea, the ruins stand as a testimony of a a civilisation that lived 3000 years ago. They stand on the Cliffs of Dawn; a place which is the first in all Mexico to be kissed by the sun's rays.
With Lea safetly behind the wheel, the Golf Cart meanders back to our abode ready for its next adventure.
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