There was the ER visit for altitude sickness in Aspen, where a blood oxygen level of 84% required me to sleep with a tank by my side. I saw Berlin’s Festival of Lights through a haze of cold medicine and snot-filled tissues. For sheer disgusting spectacle, though, nothing could top my projectile vomiting episode in the Cancun airport.

How trite, I hear you saying. Doesn’t everyone gets sick in Mexico at one point or another? But this was no ordinary case of Montezuma’s revenge. No discreet trip to the ladies room. No, this was the type of sick where people around me shrieked in horror and pulled back in fear.

Contrary to what you might think, my sickness didn’t come from overindulgence, either in alcohol or other substances found on the Riviera Maya. While I can’t be sure what caused it, my stomach started grumbling shortly after eating at the breakfast buffet at an all-inclusive resort. Rumbles soon turned into spasms. And right before I jumped into a shuttle to go to the airport, I threw up in the bathroom of the resort lobby.

Shaky, I brushed my teeth and asked the front desk for a bottle of water – and a plastic bag for the 90-minute ride. My fellow bloggers in the van were concerned, and graciously gave me the front seat. I gained some strength back during the drive. When I got out of the shuttle at the airport, I felt confident my sickness was behind me.

Not so much. As I stood in line to check my bag, my stomach did a contortion worthy of a gymnastics gold medal. My knees buckled, I doubled over in pain – and I spewed all over the floor. Which happened to be the First Class Line at US Air.

I heard the gasps as people moved their luggage out of the way, but they felt far away. I couldn’t stop heaving. Still clutching the plastic bag from the resort, I aimed as well as I could. It wasn’t enough. My bag overflowed and vomit splashed across the floor. I weaved my way to a post for support, just as the emergency cleaning crew showed up. Realizing I couldn’t even walk to the bathroom, one of the workers handed me a black garbage bag – which came in handy when wave three began.

(If this sounds gross to read, pity poor Matt Long of LandLopers. , who witnessed the whole thing. He asked me if he could help but I was too sick to do anything but moan).

After the dry heaves stopped, I ran to the bathroom. Women eyed me suspiciously as I pulled myself together. When I walked back to the ticket line, people wouldn’t make eye contact. I felt like a pariah who just emerged from a hot zone.

One family did reach out. As I sat at the gate, miserably contemplating the six hour flight home, a Mexican family approached me. “Are you OK now? the woman asked. “We were worried about you,” her young daughter added.

My seatmate on the flight also ended up being sympathetic. A doctor on his way back from a medical conference, he gave me some medicine for my stomach that also made me drowsy. I endured the trip back woozy, drinking juice to replenish my electrolytes.

Here’s the thing: Despite my illness, I still had a great time on that trip. I met some awesome fellow bloggers, participated in a resort’s outstanding Twitter outreach program, took part in a temezcal and snorkeled in a cenote. “You’ll think twice about going back to Mexico, I bet,” my boss said, smirking, as I told him my tale. Ha.  It takes a lot more than a bout of food poisoning to keep me off the road. And I’d go back to Mexico in a heartbeat.

But I will be a little more skeptical of the buffet.

(Read more about my adventures in Mexico).

What was your worst travel experience in 2010? Share it in the comments – we promise not to laugh! (well, maybe just a little….)

2010 Travels: Worst Experience is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

There’s a part of me that’s always been curious about Native American rituals, dating back to when I spent part of my junior year of college interning at a newspaper in Tucson, Arizona. When I came back to campus, I decorated my apartment with cacti, read way too much Carlos Castenada, and even signed up for a class on the Navajo language (which I dropped after discovering it was one of the most difficult languages to read or speak, ever).

Nothing piqued my curiosity quite as much as a temazcal, also known more vernacularly as a “sweat lodge.” I had a chance to do one at last year’s SATW conference in Guadalajara, but it conflicted with a daytrip to Tequila (booze took precedence over self-enlightenment). After fellow SATWer Amy Walters Weirick wrote up a blog post for me about her temazcal experience, I became more convinced that I needed to try it, if only for a little bit, just to see how the whole thing worked.

At Hacienda Tres Rios, an award-winning eco resort that sponsored me on a recent Twitter trip, a temazcal was included in our itinerary. I chose to go; my husband Don did not (slthough Tres Rios is an all-inclusive resort, the temazcal is an extra activity). While I enjoyed the experience, I don’t think it’s something that people should enter into lightly; the excessive heat generated in some temazcals has led to health issues and even death for some participants (most notably in Sedona last year, when 7 people died).

If you are curious about participating in a temazcal, here are a few things that you might want to know before you go:

1. It’s not a spa treatment. Many resorts put temazcals on their spa menu – and that’s a mistake. First off, a temazcal – at least one that bills itself as authentic – is more of a cultural experience than anything resembling a treatment that you might find in a spa. It’s run by a leader, who invokes Native chants and traditions dedicated to asking the spirits for guidance. And it’s also more rigorous than any spa treatment that I’ve ever had: two people from our group left the domed building where the temazcal took place before the ceremony was over because the heat was so overwhelming. Calling a temazcal a spa treatment is not only disrespectful, it’s potentially dangerous.

2. You will get dirty. Before our group entered the temazcal, our leader purified us with sage and asked us to respect the Earth by covering our faces and bodies in mud. I loved this part, as it reminded me of the mud I encountered at the Dead Sea. I slathered on the mud, only to regret putting it on my forehead later when dirty sweat dripped into my contacts. Forget modesty; everyone around you will be in the same state of dishevelment. Wear a swimsuit or clothes that you don’t mind getting muddy.

3. It’s really hot. And long. Imagine being in the hottest sauna that you’ve ever experienced. Now stay in that sauna for two hours  – or more.

At our temazcal, the leader said that we’d be going through three doors on our journey. At each “door,” he filled our hut with rocks that glowed from the heat. The hut was then sealed, allowing the steam to fill the pitch black room. I don’t think I’ve ever sweat so much in my life, including the time I ran the half marathon. The feeling wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but I did keep sneaking drinks from the bottled water I brought in with me and moving lower to the ground where the air felt cooler.

4. Find out if – and how – you can leave, if necessary.This is where temazcals can get tricky. Generally, the ritual frowns upon people breaking the circle – and most leaders will encourage participants to stay inside if at all possible (the deaths last year in Sedona occurred because the leader refused to let people leave). Even at our more low-key temazcal, things got a bit ugly when one writer felt that she couldn’t breathe. While the leader let her out, it didn’t happen as quickly as any of us would have wanted it too – and it let to some negative feelings about the experience.

To prevent this, temazcal leaders should say up front what their policies and procedures for leaving the sweat lodges are – and resorts and tour operators that sponsor the activities should be upfront about what the health risks. Don’t do it if you have high blood pressure, get claustrophobic or have a hard time with extended heat. Bottom line: If your heart feels like it’s going to explode, you should have the right to get out FAST.

5. Things get weird in there. In a traditional temazcal, the ritual leader will ask you who you are and what you are searching for. And he’s not looking for smart-ass answers either (sincerity is the best policy here). You may also be asked to chant, beat the ground with leaves and herbs or ask a spirit for guidance. I kinda enjoyed seeing the more spiritual side of my travel companions, but if you aren’t the sharing or New Age-y type, a temazcal may not be your thing.

6. When it ends, you’ll feel like you survived something (although you might not be sure what). After we were released from the temazcal, we stumbled out into the sunlight, taking huge gulps of fresh air. I wrapped myself in a towel and downed a bottle of water as my heart rate went down. Although others looked at my purple face with concern, I felt fine – almost as if I had undergone a long workout. We ended the temazcal with fruit, sugary tea and a cool dip in a nearby cenote.

So in the end, was the temazcal worth it? For me, it was, as I had always been curious about the experience. I enjoyed the cultural aspects of the ritual, as well as the bonding that took place inside the temazcal (as one participant said, “we all sweat together.”) But it didn’t lead to a greater level of enlightenment or relaxation (I found more Zen while snorkeling through the cenotes the next day). And I don’t think people should go into a temazcal without seriously thinking about the health risks or uncomfortable moments that they might face.

Have you been to a temazcal? What was your experience like?

Riviera Maya Beach Trip: What to Know Before Entering a Temazcal (sweat lodge) is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

I spent last weekend at the Hacienda Tres Rios, one of the many all-inclusive beach resorts on the Riviera Maya that line Mexico’s Caribbean coast, from Cancun south toward Tulum.

One of the biggest travel questions I get from friends is whether or not they should choose an all-inclusive resort when they travel to Mexico or the Caribbean. And my answer to them is always, it depends on what kind of vacation you want.

So with that in mind, I’ve drawn up a quick list to help people determine if an all-inclusive resort is right for them. This is by no means a comprehensive list. It’s also admittedly subjective, based on my experiences, and there’s always exceptions to any generalities. And I’m not trying to say that one type of experience is necessarily better than another, so let’s leave that discussion off the table for now.

Whew, disclaimers over! Here goes….

You might like an all-inclusive resort if:

1. You want to go on vacation mainly to relax. Let’s face it, many of us work so hard before our vacation that all we want to do for a few days is veg out. All-inclusive resorts usually have several pools for lounging, many with poolside drink service and swim-up bars. When I stayed at the Royal Resort in Playa del Carmen last year, they even had a staffer wheeling around a cart with cool towels, frozen grapes, sunblock and trashy magazines.

2. You don’t want to think about transportation issues. If driving in another country freaks you out, an all-inclusive resort is a good way to avoid those hassles. Most resorts will set up airport transfers and transportation for you, either for an extra fee or included in the price. Many all-inclusives have activities to keep you occupied on site (Tres Rios has snorkeling and kayaking available, for example), and most have their own in-house concierge service that will book tours for you if you do want to leave the property (although bear in mind these prices are usually much higher than what you could find on your own outside the resort. The resort told us it would cost $180 per person for a driver down to Tulum, while local experts told us it would be easy to hire a taxi for under half that amount).

3. You are with a group. Planning a vacation with other people can be a frustrating experience, particularly if you already know that your travel styles are different. An all-inclusive resort allows people to do their own thing during the day, yet all gather in one place at night. And the fact that it’s open bar, all the time makes it a good choice if you know things are going to get rowdy.

4. You like knowing more precisely what your bill will be. The beauty of most all-inclusives is that your bill is just that – the price you pay up front includes not only your room, but all of your food and drink. Now that’s not to say that you can’t spend extra. At most resorts, for example, spa treatments have hefty surcharges unless you buy a certain package. And just as cruise ships have added special restaurants where you pay more for fancier food, some resorts have dining experiences that might carry a supplemental charge. To keep your bill within your expectations, ask your travel agent or the reservation agent exactly what you receive in your package and have them email it to you so you have proof in writing.

5. You like luxurious landscaping and amenities. If you’re the type who likes to roll up to marble floors, grand entrances and well-manicured grounds, you’ll be happy with most all-inclusive resorts (although sometimes that care doesn’t always extend to the rooms). It’s also nice not having to search for a spa, or entertainment at night, as many all-inclusives have shows. And some, such as Tres Rios, even have activities such as tequila tastings or cooking demonstrations.

Now let’s switch to the other side.

You might want to stay at an independent hotel if:

1. You want to go on vacation mainly to explore. If you’re the type who wakes up and wants to get out there and see something different every day, you won’t enjoy the more confined atmosphere of an all-inclusive. No matter how much the resort promotes its accessibility to outside activities, the reality is that it’s in your best interest to spend your time on property grounds in order to get the most for your money. It can feel like you’re in a bubble, surrounded by other Americans. And what’s the fun in that?

2. You prefer to have your own car or walk around. Most (although not all) all-inclusive resorts lie outside cities and more populated areas, which makes it a little bit harder to simply walk into town. And in Mexico, that means you might miss the paseo, that delightful early evening tradition where locals and tourists alike stroll through city streets and squares, to see and be seen.

3. You’re a foodie. This might rub resorts the wrong way, but I have yet to find an all-inclusive where the food was as good as what I could have found on my own, either on the street or in a nice restaurant. That was true again last weekend, where my husband and I unanimously agreed that our favorite meal was the one we enjoyed at Yax Che in Playa del Carmen. And if the thought of a breakfast buffet or food under heat lamps turns you off, you definitely want to avoid all-inclusives. And for those who worry about the safety of street food, listen to this: in the past two years, I’ve personally known more people to get sick off of hotel food in Mexico than anything eaten from a vendor or restaurant.

4. You prefer to pay only for activities, meals and drinks that you actually use. Even if I’ve enjoyed a visit to an all-inclusive, I keep wondering: could I have had just as good a time for less money if I would have done it on my own. The answer is almost always yes. That’s because I don’t care about many of the things that the resorts build into their prices, such as entertainment or activities (I’d rather choose these type of things on my own). And while I’m certainly no stranger to bar tabs, I tend to drink less than many of the people I’ve seen decimating the mini-bar at all-inclusives.

5. You like more personal interaction and local flavor. Sure, all -inclusives may have concierges or local artwork on the walls. But that’s not the same experience as staying at a small inn or B & B, where owners can give you personal recommendations for places to eat, beaches to explore and activities to try. I also find that the other guests at smaller properties are more apt to mingle and socialize than at the larger resorts.

At this point, you might be able to tell that I prefer smaller boutique and independent hotels to large all-inclusive resorts. But I draw the line at saying that philosophy works for everyone. As I said at the beginning of this post, if you think about what kind of vacation you want before you book, you’ll be likely to be satisfied with your choices when you get there.

If you have any other suggetions that might help people make a decision between an all-inclusive resort and a regular hotel, please do so in the comments!

Riviera Maya Beach Trip: Is an All-Inclusive Resort for You? is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

I’m now convinced: A trip to Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula, where Cancun and the Riviera Maya are located, is not complete without a swim in a refreshing cenote.

Say what? I’m talking about cenotes (pronounced say-NOH-tay), essentially sinkholes filled with water that go deep into the ground. Most contain fresh water and were used by the Mayans as a primary water source.

Hacienda Tres Rios, which hosted me for a three-night stay, has 10 cenotes on its 326-acre property. Snorkeling, kayaking and swimming in the mangrove-shrouded pools is included in the price of the room (between $276 per person to $1,000, all-inclusive, depending on the season).

But you don’t have to stay at Tres Rios to find a cenote, as they are located all over the Yucatan Peninsula. Many are under caves, perfect for SCUBA divers and snorkelers to explore. And others are family friendly, with ropes hanging over them that children can hang on to as they swim. This article in the Playa Maya News has some good listings (prices may be outdated).

I have to admit, I was a little worried when I saw my first cenote. It looked like a ladder leading into a swamp, quite frankly, and I worried that the water would be stale and murky. It turns out that the water in cenotes is usually some of the freshest around, and delightfully cool on a hot Mexican summer day.

At Tres Rios, they offer a snorkeling adventure where you start in a cenote, then swim down one of the resort’s three rivers toward the Caribbean Sea. The water in this particular cenote is a bit more brackish than most, as it connects with the ocean. They ask you to wear  a floatie for safety reasons.

(The guy checking out the water in the photo above is Craig of the blog, Stay Adventurous. True to his name, he leaped into the cenote with a huge splash).

We donned our gear and hopped in. Almost immediately, I started seeing fish on the cenote floor and others nibbling plankton near the mangrove roots. While they weren’t the brightly colored species that you’d find on a coral reef, these fish were interesting, primarily for their size – some were as long as my arm!

(I wish I had photos, but I forgot to charge my underwater camera battery, much to the dismay of my husband. As Craig said, “that’s a a rookie mistake.” Oh well. We all make them!”)

We let the current carry us downstream. Besides the large fish, we saw a massive blue crab and several schools of medium sized fish. I enjoyed floating and watching the sunbeams stream through the water. Others may get their spiritual fix through temazcales; for me, swimming peacefully down the river, the trees forming an arch above me, proved more mentally cleansing.

When we reached the end, I didn’t want to get out. I was surprised at how close we had been to the resort, as I couldn’t hear a thing while we were on the river. My husband liked the almost instant access to a beach bar.

The tidepool between the river and the Caribbean provided a perfectly protected swimming area.

Almost to a person, the bloggers on our trip ranked the cenote snorkel and river swim as one of their favorite activities. Unfortunately, the cenotes at Hacienda Tres Rios are just for guests. But if I go back to this area of Mexico in the future, I’m going to look into further cenote snorkeling opportunities around the coast. It’s one of the best ways to explore and appreciate the region’s natural attributes.

Read cenote stories and see pix from other bloggers on the trip! @Solotraveler, @LandLopers

Have you been to a cenote in Mexico? Which one and how was it?

Riviera Maya Beach Trip: Snorkeling in Yucatan Cenotes is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

I traveled to Mexico this past weekend, as a guest of Hacienda Tres Rios, an award-winning, eco-oriented all-inclusive resort north of Playa del Carmen.

The trip marked my first time back on the Riviera Maya (the stretch of resorts running south of Cancun toward Tulum) since last year’s swine flu warnings did a number of Mexican tourism.

When I arrived last May over Memorial Day 2009, the CDC had just lifted its warning regarding travel to Mexico. Even though the state of Quintana Roo, where Cancun and the Riviera Maya lie, had reported no swine flu cases, tourism had all but dried up. Agents in the Cancun airport wore masks and took our temperature as we deplaned. Hotels in Cancun were at half their normal capacity. Many resorts were forced to lay off workers.

The dearth of tourists did make life easy for those who did brave the flu warnings. Discounts were everywhere, and you had your pick of restaurants and beach beds. Still, you couldn’t help feeling sorry for the Mexican tourism industry, which was still reeling from reports of drug violence in other areas of the country. I’ve heard it time and again from those who rep Mexican properties: every time there’s a report of violence, no matter how far away from the beaten tourist track it may be, bookings suffer.

On this visit, tourism in Playa del Carmen seemed healthy. The streets were lively, restaurants were happening (we had to wait for an outdoor table at Yax Che). Clubs such as the Blue Parrot that were giving away drinks last time now had covers. For me, Playa became a different type of town.

Still, the resorts in the area are still hurting a bit. Occupancy in Cancun is a few percentage points below last year – which was already down 20% from 2008. Mexican travel expert Kay Walten, who runs the reservation service LocoGringo, blamed it the downturn on the continued lack of consumer confidence. The majority of people just aren’t ready to spend money on international vacations yet, it seems.

That’s too bad. Because the Riviera Maya continues to be one of the best travel bargains around. The area has everything – easy air access, big resorts, smaller boutique hotels, natural attractions, history – to suit almost every type of traveler. The area is about ready to enter its off-season (which coincides with hurricane season; buy travel insurance if you plan a trip during this time) so expect the bargains to continue.

And it’s certainly not too early to plan for December holidays. When it’s cold and rainy in Seattle, I know Mexico won’t be too far from my thoughts.

Have you been to Mexico lately? If so, I’d love to hear your experiences – tell me where you stayed and if your hotel/resort seemed empty, crowded or – hopefully – just right.

Riviera Maya Beach Trip: Travel to Mexico, post swine flu is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

“Omigod. It’s gorgeous!”

Such was the tenor of comments uttered by our group of normally jaded travel writers as we viewed the colorful rooftops of colonial Guanajuato.a university town in central Mexico, for the first time this October. Comparisons were thrown out: Portofino. San Francisco.

Nah. Just the absolute best of what Mexico has to offer.

Over the next few days, surprises kept coming. The macabre stories at Museo de Momias (mummies).  The Churrigueresque facade of San Cayetano de La Valenciana, a Baroque church built by a silver baron. Haute Mexican at Las Mercedes, where standout dishes included a salad of cacti and squash blossoms.

Yet Guanajuato was at its best in the evening, when mariachis strolled through La Jardin and its plazas filled with laughing students and friends meeting up for drinks.  It felt just like Europe – only with tasty chorizo tacos sold streetside. Bliss.

What destination surprised you this year? Tell me below!

Read more 2009 Year in Review posts: Yesterday, Best Bargain

Coming tomorrow: Worst Experience.

2009 Travel in Review: Best Surprise is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

With everything that’s been on my plate, it’s taken forever to write up the final notes from my October trip to Colonial Mexico. For our last stop on our four-day tour through central Mexico highlands, we spent two days in San Miguel de Allende. I had actually joined the tour primarily so I could visit this town, well-known as an artist town/expat haven.

With cobblestone streets and little modern construction, San Miguel is extremely quaint, almost too much so (I liked Guanajuato, a lesser known university town about two hours way from SMA, better). Still, I can see why so many American Baby Boomers are choosing it for their retirement.

Read the San Miguel de Allende report here.

And read the previous installments, Guadalajara and Guanajuanto, here and here.  

San Miguel de Allende is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

I’ve put together two trip reports so far from my week in Mexico: Guadalajara and Guanajuato. San Miguel de Allende is still to come (and may have to wait until I get back from the Caribbean). I really loved this region of Mexico, Guanajuato in particular. I would love to go back and study Spanish here. I’m also inspired to visit other Colonial Mexican cities such as Oaxaca and Campeche.

To read about Guadalajara, click here.

To read about Guanajuato, click here.  

Mexico trip reports is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

San Juan de los Lagos, about two hours outside Guadalajara, is famous for its Virgin – one of three in Mexico that rank just behind the Virgin of Guadalupe. (The other two are the Virgin of Talpa and the Virgin of Zapopan – to read about Romeria, the religious festival I witnessed in Zapopan for their “Lady,” click here).

Each has their own legend; while the Virgin of Zapopan keeps Guadalajara safe, the Virgin of San Juan de los Lagos (named for St. John the Baptist) allegedly restored a dead child to life.

The town centers around the Catedral Basilica Santuario de la Virgen de San Juan de los Lagos, a large pinkish church.

The plaza outside the Catedral is filled with vendors selling all sorts of Virgin paraphenalia, from rosaries to icons to tablecloths. An estimated million people visit the Virgin in San Juan de los Lagos each year.

Inside the church, worshippers drop to their knees to “walk” down the church aisle toward the altar housing the Virgin. I first saw this demonstation of faith at the Scala Santa in Rome earlier this year. It can be a little heartbreaking to watch the elderly struggle down the long aisle. But for the faithful, the suffering is considered “Christ-like;” they suffer for what they see as in solidarity with Jesus.

Walking on your knees is nothing , however, compared to the devotions that take place at Atotonilco, a small dusty town between Guanajuato and San Miguel de Allende. There, pilgrims come from all over Mexico to visit Santuario de Atotonilco, a beautiful church and a spiritual retreat, and ask for penance by donning crowns of mesquite thorns and flagellate themselves with seven-tailed whips. There are cells nearby where pilgrims sleep to replicate Christ’s prison experience.

On the day we were there, we saw no such displays of devotion. The vendors in the sleepy plaza, though, were selling the thorn crowns, as well as rope whips.

The thorns were sharp (I had to touch them, of course).

The church itself was worth seeing. While it looks simple on the outside, the inside is completely covered in frescoes, many of which are under restoration. There is no surface in the building that hasn’t been decorated or covered.

The paintings were done by an artist named Miguel Antonio Martinez de Pocasangre, in a style that’s been called ”folk baroque.” They were declared “endangered” by the World Monument Fund in the late 1990s and have been deemed a UNESCO World Heritage site since 2008.

True to the leanings of the pilgrims who come here, some of the paintings are a little on the dark side, stressing Christ’s suffering. This statue of the bloody Christ is known as Our Lord of the Column. During Holy Week, it is taken from the church and carried in a midnight procession to San Miguel de Allende, where it remains through Easter.

Mexico: Pilgrimage Towns is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

The following is a guest post, written by fellow SATW member Amy Weirick. The day that I went to Tequila, she visited a traditional Huichol temazcal, or sweat lodge, located outside Guadalajara. I asked her to write something about the experience – especially after our group discovered that two people (now three) had died in a similar sweat lodge in Sedona, Ariz.

UPDATED: NYC Architect Timo Lindman noticed from Amy’s picture that the sweat lodge that some in SATW attended in Mexico was made from natural materials that breathe, instead of being covered with a plastic tarp. Says Lindman: “Sweat lodges/saunas/banya can be really terrific things, but coercion is not part of the process, and badly built (non-permeable) lodges run by yahoos are dangerous.”

“Most people don’t take this tour.”

So says our guide, Esmeralda, as our bus pulled out of Guadalajara. On our agenda: a mud bath, a sampler of native healing rituals and a meet-up with a Shaman. All of it – along with copious sweating – is designed to provoke a mystical episode, and Esmerelda repeatedly tells our group of two dozen how special we are for embarking on such a spiritual adventure. 

 I should have known we were in for a wild ride.

In the tiny village of Buenavista, barefoot babies stared as our tour bus rumbled down the mucky, rocky road.  Old men in chewed up hats offered sideways glances.  Cows and chickens scattered as we bobbed and weaved past once-proud brick country houses , now mere walls that protect - or hide - humble hovels. 

We arrived at a large fenced lawn ringed by igloo-shaped dwellings.  One, the temazcal, is crafted from brick and cement. Another, called an inipi, looks like a grass mat soccer ball emerging from the yard.  We’re welcomed at a large fire with a soul-cleansing wave of feathers and traditional copol incense. Its piney resin smoke wafted around our heads.

Esmeralda then introduced us to our healer, Teresa. With Esmeralda acting as translater, Teresa invited us in her native Huichol language to sit in a circle nad spun wildly colorful tales of Huichol ritual and belief.  She would eventually direct one of the groups in their spiritual quest.

Then Teresa presented the leader of my group: fellow spiritualist and native dance expert Rosalio. I stared. To me, Rosalio looked exactly like Charles Manson – wearing a loincloth. This does not bode well.

In a staccato cadence, Rosalio shared his beliefs, as Esmeralda translated. There is no race, he murmured, only the human race.  We are not Indians, he chided, Indians live in India.  We will reborn, he predicted, as we emerge from the temazcal.

Oh, were we.

But first we’re directed to a corner of the yard, where large buckets of mud are doctored with sandalwood and lavender oil.  We dipped into them, slathering the slate-gray muck on our bodies (we had been told to wear swimsuits and bring a towel).  We laid down and embraced Mother Earth, mud baking on our bodies and, we’re told, drawing out impurities – anything bad or unwanted.

This exorcism continued as Rosalio gave us each a handful of tobacco, encouraging us to put all of our negative energy into that sprinkle of dried leaves, and then toss it into the fire. We toss it into the fire to burn away.  Illness and bad habits will be cleansed by the mud and the fire, we’re told – and oh yes, the sweat.

Crawling on our hands and knees, we entered the inipi. On the way in, we dipped our head to the earth in thanks and prayer. Little did we know that in a few hours, we’d be praying for relief.

A large pichfork bearing red-hot rocks the size of a human head was shoved in the door. The rocks were dropped into a deep pit in the inipi’s center.  Rosalio beat his drum and chanted, then fiercely tossed cups of herbal tea onto the rocks.  Thick, hot steam filled the lodge.

Soon, sweat flowed from every pore, rinsing away much of the mud - and our inhibitions. Noses ran, tears welled. A member next to me apologetically asked me to wipe her gooey face. “That’s a new twist in media relations,” I thought.

We continued to sweat. Several members of the group began to feel faint, their hearts racing from the temperature. It’s just too hot, they told Rosalio. But Charles Manson is not having it.

 ”Touch your body,” Rosalio said. “It is your strength.  You can do it.”  The members stayed, although it was unclear if it was strength or Rosalio’s chiding that kept them there.

Finally, the door opened.  Some people sighed, some gasped. All of us thought we were getting out. No dice.

Instead, another pitchfork of sizzling rocks is loaded into the lodge. More tea.  More steam. With a ferocity that seemed unexpected in a spiritual leader, Rosalio hurled cool cups of the herbal tea.  It felt cooling, yet shocking at the same time.

Just when we thought we could take no more, the door opened.  We emerged the same way we went in – head first, forehead to the ground in prayer.  We’re rinsed with icy well water.  It felt invigorating and bracing, pretty much a metapher for the entire experience.

Cool at last, we drank herbal tea and rested on grass mats – natural, we’re told, from Mother Earth. And finally, after hours of deprivation, a dazzling spread of colorful fruit was put before us.  Watermelon, pineapple, papaya, cucumbers and apples never tasted so cold and fresh. Our sweat lodge experience endsedwith a circle hug, meant to represent the endless coil of a snail’s shell. 

So was I reborn? Hm. Maybe not reborn, but revitalized … if only by the incredible weirdness of it all.  I was really relaxed, the way you feel after a butt-kicking workout. And what the heck, I do believe my skin looks just a tiny bit healthier.  The experience provided me with a mental escape that I can reflect on for some time, like a strange and interesting movie that stays with you for awhile.

Had I known of the fate of those who died in Arizona, I’m uncertain whether I would have opted for this tour.  I think back to Esmeralda’s “This tour is not for everyone” caveat and shudder a little.  Interestingly, those Arizona New Agers paid some $10,000 each for their weekend, while our day-long “authentic experience” cost only about $35.

Follow Amy on Twitter: @AmyMWeirick

A Mexican temazcal: Mud, sweat & tears is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road