In winter, it’s warm. At least in certain places. For example, Cozumel, a Caribbean island off the eastern coast of Yucatán, the shore that Mexico has sold to the world as successfully as the Riviera Maya. While this label has become synonymous with whirlwind, frenetic summer babel, Cozumel is the counterpoint, the contrast, the oasis, the haven of peace. Discreetly, of course. Those looking for revelry stay on the neighboring beaches of Cancún and Playa del Carmen, slathered in coconut-scented sunscreen and cooled by fiery margaritas. Other people come to Cozumel, or stay there. Cozumel is something else.
The island is oblong and flat, the same size (and shape) as Menorca, so you can cross it from end to end by bike in half a morning. But it’s not as small as it seems. It even has an airport—actually, a military base that mostly operates charter flights—and docks for large cruise ships (there are always one or two docked). However, the most common way to get there is by taking one of the ferries that depart from Playa del Carmen. A short trip, but enough to make your stomach churn a little. In addition to its tropical attributes and clichés—white beaches with fine sand and clear turquoise waters—Cozumel also boasts the fact that it is an important historical landmark: some point to it as the origin and cradle of the mestizaje (mixed races), and as the scene of the first non-war love at first sight.
The story goes like this.
After Columbus’s arrival, what Europeans called the “New World” was actually limited to the Antilles, not the American continent. Regular shipping traffic flowed between Santo Domingo, the current capital of the Dominican Republic (the first in every sense), and Cuba, which soon established itself as the main base. From the latter, four ships under the command of Juan de Grijalva set sail in 1518, arriving four days later in Cozumel. Once there, they inspected the coasts and the “mainland” areas (or so they called them). The Spanish explorer christened those lands New Spain, a name later consecrated by Hernán Cortés, who sailed from Cuba in 1519 with more than 300 soldiers bound for Cozumel. There, he learned that there were two Castilians living on the mainland among the Indians. They were Jerónimo de Aguilar, an Andalusian Jesuit, and the soldier Gonzalo Guerrero. Eight years earlier, the ship they were sailing on had been swept by a hurricane onto those shores, and only the two of them had survived. Jerónimo de Aguilar joined Cortés, but not Gonzalo Guerrero, who had started his own family, with a wife and three children, and was respected in his village as a cacique. Bernal Díaz del Castillo recounts all this in The True History of the Conquest of New Spain, a book written in the 16th century in such fresh and direct language that it reads like an adventure novel by Pío Baroja.
After Columbus’s arrival, the so-called “New World” by Europeans was actually limited to the Antilles, not the American continent. Regular shipping traffic flowed between Santo Domingo, the current capital of the Dominican Republic (the first in every sense of the word), and Cuba, which soon established itself as the main base. From the latter, four ships set sail in 1518 under the command of Juan de Grijalva, arriving four days later in Cozumel. Once there, they inspected the coasts and the “mainland” areas (or so they called it). The Spanish explorer christened those lands New Spain, a name later consecrated by Hernán Cortés, who sailed from Cuba in 1519 with more than 300 soldiers bound for Cozumel. There, he learned that there were two Castilians living on the mainland among the Indians. They were Jerónimo de Aguilar, an Andalusian Jesuit, and the soldier Gonzalo Guerrero. Eight years earlier, the ship they were sailing on had been swept toward those shores by a hurricane, and only the two of them had survived. Jerónimo de Aguilar joined Cortés, but not Gonzalo Guerrero, who had started his own family, with a wife and three children, and was respected in his village as a chieftain. Bernal Díaz del Castillo recounts all this in Historia Verdadera de la Conquista de la Nueva España (The True History of the Conquest of New Spain), a book written in the 16th century with such fresh and direct language that it reads like an adventure novel by Pío Baroja.
For all these reasons, Cozumel is considered the cradle of mestizaje (mixed races) in the Americas. In fact, there is a striking Monument to Mestizaje (Mestizaje Monument) on the seawall of the island’s only city, San Miguel de Cozumel. The island has a total of about 100,000 registered inhabitants. This capital is configured like New York City: north-south avenues, intersected by numbered cross streets. Around the main square and its gardens are avenues and buildings with a colonial feel and color, walls covered in graffiti (thanks to the SEA Walls project, Murals for the Oceans), and a jumble of bazaars and shops focused on the island’s sole resource: tourism. There’s a Cozumel Museum, a cathedral, a synagogue, and the main Mayan ruins are located in the San Gervasio neighborhood, which are not the only ones, as they are spread throughout the island.
Apart from this urban center, the island is only inhabited along its edges, especially the western coast. This shore is lined with hotels, residential developments, beaches, and almost all the tourist attractions. It’s also where cruise ships and ferries unload day trippers or those who spend a day there. Aside from the beach and its entertainment (always controlled by wristbands that can cover your arm in half a day), Cozumel’s main attractions at sea are diving and snorkeling. The island is surrounded by a line of coral reefs, part of the Mesoamerican Reef, which extends south along the coast of Quintana Roo—the official name of the Mexican state—reaching Honduras and Belize. This place rose to fame thanks to the documentaries filmed there by Jacques Cousteau in the 1960s. It is the second largest reef in the world, after Australia’s Great Barrier Reef.
The favorite spots for divers are toward Punta Sur, around Palancar, and the area called El Cielo (The Sky), dotted with starfish. At this southern end is the Punta Sur Eco Beach Park, a paid natural park with Mayan ruins (such as El Caracol), birdwatching towers, mangroves, crocodiles, and turtle nests. You can also admire the seabed from transparent boats or even dive in a submarine. A visit to the small Navigation Museum or learning about Mayan traditions and cuisine at Pueblo del Maíz is also a good option.
The eastern coast of the island is very different. Exposed to the open sea and without the protection of the reef, its waves are rough, and extreme caution is required when swimming. The interior of the island, on the other hand, is entirely vegetation. A road runs along the coast from Punta Sur to Punta Norte. At the northern end, there is a small satellite island, barely a kilometer in size, called Isla de la Pasión (Passion Island). It was a sacred place in Kusamil—which is what the Mayans called Cozumel, “place of swallows” in Spanish—where Ixchel, the goddess of love and fertility and lover of Itzamná, the sun god, was worshipped. Needless to say, what happens on that island: weddings, engagements, and engagements of varying degrees. And it’s a must-see for lovebirds, newlyweds, or newlyweds on their honeymoon. A divine setting for lovers, archaeologically speaking.
Source: elpais
