About six years ago, in a time of my life before digital cameras, I travelled around Mexico for five weeks. One of the stops on the journey was Chichen Itza, a pre-columbian archeological site built by the Mayans.
The place is amazing. So amazing it's recently been named one of the 'NEW' Seven Wonders of the World.
The centerpiece of this ancient village is 'El Castillo', which is incredible for a number of freaky mathematical and astrological reasons that Wikipedia can tell you about, but suffice to say, it's also just kind of unreal to behold:
When I first saw Chichen Itza however, I got to do more than look, I got to climb the EXTREMELY steep steps of El Castillo, and look out over the breathtaking Mayan city. Also, thanks to archaeologists, you could venture inside a doorway at the base of the north staircase, which leads to a tunnel, from which one can climb the steps of the earlier version of El Castillo, inside the current one, up to the room on the top where you can see King Kukulcan's Jaguar throne. Carved of stone and painted red with jade spots, it's believed to have been a gift from Guatalmalans, who would have come to Chichen Itza for trade, though how they transported the large, heavy statue, remains a Stonehenge-style mystery.
The journey inside the chamber is not for the faint-hearted, and more than one turned back. The passage is narrower than an economy seat on an aeroplane, oxygen is scant, and the walls are damp with condensation from all the breath and sweat. That said, it remains one of the most thrilling things I've ever experienced, sitting right there, just where they found it, just as the Mayans left it.
In an album somewhere I have photos of me dangling precariously from the one, thick rope hanging down the side of the temple, kindly provided to assist in the climb. And I have photos of the unimpeded, breathtaking (and well-earned) view from the top. I don't have photos of the Jaguar, because flashes were not allowed, and in case you can't see where this is going, I'm not an asshole.
This year, in July, Dan and I got married and then honeymooned on the Yucatan peninsula. I couldn't wait to show him Chichen Itza - he being a far bigger history nerd than... well, just about anybody.
This was Dan's experience of El Castillo:
If you look very closely behind him, you'll see that the climbing rope has been replaced by an extremely thin, sad little museum style string all around the base. And there's no more climbing, or vista beholding.
The door that leads to the tunnel that leads to the steps that lead to the jaguar, is also barred. Presumably forever.
Why?
Because of assholes.
Because of asshole travellers who couldn't stop themselves from taking photos of, and damaging the ancient jaguar throne. Apparently some grand, head asshole even stole the jade eyes and the teeth.
And the climbing is allowed no more because of travellers who were (to be more polite about it than our guide) relieving themselves at the top of the temple. That's plural. MULTIPLE people saw fit to use the top of this 1500 year old temple as a toilet. So now, naturally, nobody is allowed up there.
Now, instead of standing where the Mayans did and saying, 'THIS IS SO UNBELIEVABLY COOL!', we can stand at a safe distance, and say instead, 'that looks to be extremely cool'. And what is so extremely irritating to me is that it's not because the Mexicans have suddenly developed a consciousness of public liability issues (the prevailing culture for most tourist attractions still seems to be, 'don't be stupid about it, and you won't end up dead'), but because of a handful of idiots (probably a rather large handful), who in my opinion, have no business calling themselves travellers. And whose passports we should probably revoke.
And while it might be impressive to one day dig out an olde-worldy photo album, and show my grandchildren pictures of their crinkly, old Granny climbing an ancient temple, it REALLY frustrates me that I'll have to use the phrase, 'back before you weren't allowed to climb it anymore'.
And so I use the word ASSHOLE. Liberally. And again, with apologies to my mother, who taught me to know better.
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