MEXICO
Swimming in SinkholesB
eneath lush greenery,
Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula
is like Swiss cheese. The
bedrock is pocked with
thousands of sinkholes, formed
when limestone collapses and
cool groundwater seeps in.
In centuries past, the Maya
relied on cenotes or sinkholes
for fresh water and believed
they were portals to the gods.
Now divers explore the depths,
but you don’t need special
certifications to enjoy the pools
at the surface.
Down a dirt road fringed
by jungle, Dos Ojos Cenote
was almost ready to close by
the time we got there. Divers
in wet suits and kids in
swimsuits trundled out into
the parking lot, but—happily—
the clerk let us in. Down the
creaky wooden steps that led
into the pool, we discovered we
were completely alone.
We sank into the 24°C water,
illuminated in gem-tone shades
of blue and green by the late
afternoon light. Our hushed
voices echoed against the cave
ceiling, which swept over our
heads like a grand opera house.
Below, rock formations
sank away into a 30-foot-deep
pool, while passages led much
deeper. We floated and breast
stroked until our fingers were
wrinkly, taking in the delicate
stillness of this singular window
into the Earth.
A couple of days later, we
visited Gran Cenote and found
a very different experience:
a lively party. Families and
couples picnicked on a small
lawn as we descended stairs
to the sunlit pool, teeming
with snorkellers. Through our
masks, we watched fish and
turtles circle stalactites and
stalagmites. About 30 feet
below, divers’ headlamps lit the
craggy depths.
We finned back and forth then
warmed up above ground with
others who had come to delight
in the luminous pleasures and
wild wonders of this stone-
rimmed pool in the jungle.
—Kate SiberCHRISTIAN VIZLWORLD