San Francisco de Campeche – Day 2: The Taste of Freedom
SAN FRANCISCO DE CAMPECHE
Day 2: The Taste of Freedom
August 22, 2022
The following day, Xavier and I went around the citadel again – this time round with a fresh perspective, considering he had been here for quite a long while and knew the city through and through.
With him having to go to work at his construction site, we split up, and I made my way to Playa Bonita – my very first beach stop on this trip. I paid an entrance fee (didn’t know this was a thing) and then proceeded to the sandy paradise. Palm trees, thatched huts, white sand, and the bluest of seas. Heaven – pure, blissful, tropical heaven. A long stretch of beach cluttered only by seashells and beautiful white sand. It had been a long five years since I had last stepped on a tropical beach, and this was back in Cartagena, Colombia. God did it feel good to be back on paradise.
I left all my stuff behind me and quickly ran into the water, feeling freer than I’d ever been before. I was finally free. I was out in the open water – without any worries, without any troubles. I had no one depending on me, no duties I had to fulfil, no place to call home for the time being. I was free. I finally felt in control of my life for the first time in ages. I was there all alone, floating, as if suspended in a dream. I closed my eyes and pictured what heaven would look like, then opened them to find one right in front of me. I’d have so many other beaches to visit, so many other things to look forward to – this was just the beginning. I felt ready for it all – reinvigorated, pumped, exhilarated, high. It was like someone or something had just breathed new life into me. And I swore I wouldn’t let it go to waste.
Chasing Sunsets
After spending the entire morning enjoying the beach and a couple of mojitos, I met up with Xavier again. Over lunch, we got to know about each other a little better.
The more we talked, the more I seemed to be growing fond of him. He told me his mother died when he was two, that he grew up in Spain, and that he worked as a psychologist. I felt at ease with him, and he did too. We connected. So much so that he offered to show me around the house he was building. At one point, I did find myself questioning how on earth I’d ended up in the middle of a construction site — his employees looking at me like I was the friggin’ First Lady on tour — while I carefully manoeuvred over ledges and gaps, trying not to fall to my demise. I guess this was the part of travelling I had been missing out on, huh?
According to both local and Xavier’s weather forecasts, thunderstorms weren’t on anyone’s radar, which meant it would be the perfect opportunity to enjoy the sunset at the Malecón. As such, after the construction site tour, we headed out for a long walk along the promenade. I had read so many travel blogs going on and on about the sunset at Campeche and how it’s unmissable. I’d read the same thing about sunsets in Santorini, Greece, and countless other places I’d visited -reality always coming up short on my expectations. In fact, I’d always feel like the ones we have back home in Malta are just as nice, if not nicer. All the same, it was on my checklist, so I had to do it!
We walked and walked and then finally sat down by the Ángel Maya – a monument showing a Mayan angel holding a baby in its arms, representing the cultural mix between the pre-Hispanic people and the Spanish. Then, we walked some more until the sun started to set. Lo and behold, as the sun started going down, my jaw went down with it. Red and purple, and all the shades in between, the deep, dark, blue of the Pacific, the seagulls gliding away.
I don’t think I’d ever seen such a beautiful sunset in my life. Hell, I hadn’t seen a sunset in ages – longer than I could even remember. Back home, on most days, the sun would set either when I was at work or when I was resting after work. Long gone were the days when I’d meet up with my friends to chill at the beach with a nice, cold beer, only to admire the sunset. And now here I was, watching this incredible spectacle of colours right in front of me.
I felt so damn grateful. Not a single day had passed since I started travelling that I hadn’t looked up to the heavens and thanked this metaphysical entity I didn’t even believe in. I’d been so grateful for every single moment, every single day, that I just had to express my gratitude to something, to someone out there – even if it didn’t exist, even if I didn’t believe in it. I mean, sure, I had planned the trip down to every single detail I could think of, and I worked tons of one-hundred-hour weeks so I could earn enough money to do all the things I’d planned, so I could have just as easily redirected that thankfulness to myself.
But somehow, the fact that I had, as of yet, managed to keep up with everything felt so unreal, so impossible, that it seemed like there was this greater force helping me out along the way. So either way – whether it’s God or the universe, whether it’s just luck or faith – I had to express my gratitude in one way or another. And this sunset had me thinking about all the good things in my life, all the things I was grateful for. What a beautiful, beautiful life…