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the suffocating humid heat and the insistent sellers of junk , the sight of one of the seven wonders of the modern world repaid us for every attempt .
With eyes full of amazement , we continued the road towards the east coast and the state of Quintana Roo where a special meeting awaited us .
David was waiting for us in Puerto Morales , our Canadian friend , the true mentor of our American journey . We were his guests and for three days we relaxed remembering our past forays . We visited Tulum , a Mayan city a few metres from the ocean , observing iguanas sunbathing undisturbed ; we entered the Coba paths and cooled off by observing the tropical fish of the coral reef . When the time came to load the motorbike , we hugged David because we didn ’ t know where or when we ’ d meet again , but we were sure that we would still find ourselves on the road together .
The Bacalar lagoon sweetened the end of our Mexican journey ; the crystalline body of water over sixty kilometres long has incredible shades of blue , green , and white so much so that it seemed as if we were faced with a reality created by an artificial intelligence . Stromatolites , the oldest living things in the world , live in the lagoon . These are microorganisms that cement sand and other rocky materials , creating microbial mats that accumulate , forming what were believed to be simply rocks . Today they are preserved and protected and allow us to have a vision of ancient life on earth . At the " rapiditas " it was possible to swim in one of the streams that fed the lagoon and let yourself be carried away by the current as if on an enormous natural slide .
Time had come to cross a new border ; we slid towards the south greeting this enormous , varied state , cheerful but at the same time melancholy , angry and rebellious toward that that had welcomed us and given us infinite emotions .
FC & SB
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