The island adventure and the mystery illness

Isla Mujeres is a skinny, pancake flat island just off the coast of Cancun. As soon as you board the ferry and get going, you can see it emerge on the horizon. Despite its proximity, it is absolutely nothing like its overdeveloped mainland cousin. I'm quickly discovering that the Yucatan is a land of contrasts.

Sorry to sound like a snotty backpacker, but I think if I'd visited Isla Mujeres (translates to Island of Women) 5 or 10 years ago, I'd have liked it better. It still has a really laid back feel, there are plenty of locals milling about but it seems like the main few streets, including the handicraft-stuffed pedestrian mall, are trying just a little too hard to attract fat-walleted Americans.

As with most places around here, its hard to argue with the quality of the beach - the same powdery white sand, and beautiful turquoise hues ringing the coastline are picture perfect - although sadly I didn't take any photos.

The other side of the island is a different story - devoid of resorts, it has a seawall that juts out onto sharp rocks, and has choppy swell. Most of the buildings here are either makeshift shacks or look to have been hurricane-damaged and abandoned.

Our hostel, on the surface, seemed like a traveller's paradise - huge, stone wall enclosed courtyard, big common bar area, loads of hammocks swinging gently in the breeze and backing onto the beach. We opted for the camping area out the back, and found ourselves wedged in between what seemed like a semi-permanent german hippie colonie and a bunch of glamorous english goodtime girls.

The place, Hostel Poc-na (sounds more Thai than Spanish) was pretty cool but let us down on a couple of fronts. One, it had all these stupid rules - we were tagged like prisoners with wrist bracelets. Two, there was a free breakfast but it was so strictly policed it didn't feel free at all - Adam was most upset that he got accused of not paying for things or helping himself to too many bananas several times.

Also, while the vibe there was pretty cool, the amount of annoying 21-year old Aussies with really broad accents (for some reason every time I hear the accent it really twangs in my ears!) who are trying to fit in all of South America in under a month really got on our nerves. And, not surprisingly, they were the most ridiculously drunk ones who kept embarassing themselves. They would say things like, "oops, I've spent too much money, oh well, I'll get mum and dad to top up my account."

Or maybe just a sign that we're getting old??!

The beauty of Isla Mujeres was unfortunately marred by a mystery illness that struck me down the day after we arrived. Now I just want to say right here, it wasn't tequila-related, it wasn't bad meat in a burritorelated or from eating too many ice cubes.

Adam had passed on a slight cold to me a few days before, but after relaxing on the beach one morning I began to feel weak and dizzy. We went to the chicken shop for lunch (yes, BBQ chicken works really well in a taco), but I could hardly finish one taco. Something was definitely wrong.

I spent the whole afternoon rolling around in the tent with violent stabbing stomach pains, throwing up intermittently. Felt like alcohol poisoning, but worse! We then transferred from the tent to a private room so I could be nearer the toilet for strategic reasons.

As a result, didn't get to enjoy the rest of the sun and the sand on the Isla, or the food for that matter. We did meet up with Larry and Larna, who are also travelling in Mexico at the moment as part of their one-year adventure, for a nice dinner on our last night. Larna tried cactus tacos, which actually looked quite nice - kind of like roasted strips of capsicum, or peppers as they are called here.