When friends found out Alex and I were going to Cancun, the first question they asked was which resort were we staying at? I admit it wasn't the first time friends have made such general assumptions about travel habits to major destinations. We had no intention of staying in a resort, let alone in Cancun, instead opting to rent a car and head south away from touristy crowds towards the more secluded Riviera Maya. Speeding down the two-lane highway past mega golf/beach resorts with titanic-sized entrances lavishly adorned with fountains, fire pits, and architectural marvel rivaling the Las Vegas strip, we arrived in the laid back seaside town of Akumal.
We gasped for air upon entering the chilly, calm water surrounded by towering limestone walls. Clear cerulean water transitioned into darkness as we descended one-hundred-thirty feet into the abyss performing a never ending repetition of equalizing the pressure in our body. We gazed at mammoth stalactites dangling on the cavern walls whilst avoiding collision with a mountain of boulders protruding centrally from the cave bottom. Atop the mountain was a tree perched as if it were a king on his throne. Approaching our bottom limit, my eyes were drawn to the cavern's vastness evoking our true insignificance. Millions of years created the "Pit" while fifteen-thousand years ago melting glaciers filled the Cenotes, effectively locking the formations in a permanent time capsule.
