Driving through the dark of night in the pouring rain on the tiny road that snakes its way through the jungle of the Yum Balam to the town of Chiquila, I did sometimes have my doubts as to whether or not we would ever get there. Nevertheless, we made it to Chiquila and ultimately to Holbox, the place whose name in Mayan means "Black Hole".

Back before we first decided to visit Isla Mujeres, I had read about and was intrigued by Isla Holbox. From what I had seen on the internet, which was sketchy at best, it seemed like a place where we would want to go ... remote, rustic, unspoiled. Then we fell into Islamania and started going to Isla Mujeres, with Holbox retaining a corner of the mind reserved for "places we eventually want to go".

In the fall of 2003, we decided to begin our 10 day vacation to Mexico by visiting Isla Holbox. The night when we arrived, I started forming a story in my head called "Into the Black Hole", the title being a play on words with the literal translation of the Maya word "holbox" and the fact that one might think that they had actually entered a black hole upon arrival there.

Perhaps my thoughts went in that direction because we arrived on the island in the dark of night and in the pouring rain. We were the only tourists among the dozen or so people on the ferry that night, and given the bad weather, everyone else who had been on the boat quickly disappeared. Ritsuko and I stood alone at the dock, looking down a dark and muddy road. We didn't know exactly where our hotel was actually located, and there was no one on the streets to aid us in our search. This was complicated by the fact that when it rains, the sand streets become covered with huge puddles that sometimes are almost knee deep -- not a particularly friendly environment for first time visitors laden with heavy backpacks.

Our journey that night was further complicated by the fact that while making our way down the street in the pouring rain, I had slipped and fallen into a big puddle, totally submerging my daypack which I had been carrying in my hands into the puddle of muddy water, and half submerging my backpack. Fortunately, I was not injured, except for spraining the fourth toe on my right foot. Our digital camera, battery charger, passports, and travelers checks were alright since they were in ziplock bags ... most everything else got soaked.

Not knowing exactly where we were going, we trudged on, knowing that our hotel was on the beach on the other side of the island. Fortunately, when we reached the beach on the gulf side, I looked up and there it was, on the very street that connects to the ferry dock on the lagoon side. Hotel Faro Viejo was such a welcome site that night. Tired from our day of travel, we quickly settled in, happy in the assessment of our damage to be minimal in that the only possession totally destroyed was a small portable travel alarm clock, which was definitely the most expendable item in our cargo. Listening to the pouring rain beating on the palapa roof over our heads, I lay in bed that night, drifting off into a dream. After having made a somewhat rocky crossing over into the world of the black hole, the thought that pervaded my semi-consciousness was that one must really want to come here in order to find the place, and that although telling the events of the evening might sound pretty awful, I was ever hopeful that visiting the island would be a wonderful experience.

In preparing to go to Isla Holbox, I had received some advice from people who had been there, who told me what an awful, bug infested, boring dump the place is. Also, I found that a few people who had been to Holbox who really loved it, and who didn't want to discuss the place in a public forum. It seems that this is an island that people either really love or really dislike, and some of those who really love it wanted to keep it a secret. I wondered why.

Having been there now, I understand why, and while I agree with those who want to keep it a secret, let's face it -- the word is out, and tourism to the island is being marketed more than ever. The marketing hype will ultimately bring more people to the island, so I have decided to go ahead and present the island in my own way which is surely mundane in comparison to the flashy hype of travel industry brochures and websites, but anyway it is just the way I see it.

I do think that it would be a disservice to anyone who is considering travel there to overly romanticize the experience. I think that anyone who travels to Holbox should make an honest assessment of what they are getting into, for traveling there with unrealistic expectations would not be good for the traveler or for the people of the island.

On this vacation, we also traveled to Isla Mujeres after spending 5 days on Holbox. Arriving on Isla Mujeres, carrying our gear, we walked from the ferry dock down Rueda Medina toward Playa Norte, dodging the hordes of neon banded day trippers and the vendors who were trying to snag the banded ones into their trinket stands. Loudmouthed gringos in golf carts shouted at one another as they passed on the street, weaving through traffic while swilling cerveza. I began thinking about what this island must have been like prior to the development of tourism, and then an horrific picture began to form in my mind of a Holbox with rows of t-shirt and trinket shops and paved streets crowded with golf carts. I thought "what a shame it would be if the lovely, peaceful Isla Holbox were to become another Isla Mujeres".

Isla Mujeres is what it is, and my wife and I go there because we love it in spite of all the touristy crap. I put all that behind me as I step onto the beach and float in the tranquil turquoise water.

Isla Holbox is, in my opinion, like a precious and delicate flower that can bring joy to the beholder, but if handled excessively or uncaringly, it will quickly wilt and die. It is an island on which there is a fishing village, whose economy does not depend upon tourism for its survival, and even with the inevitable growth in tourism, I hope that it stays that way.

As I stated before, traveling to the island with unrealistic expectations would be unfair to the potential traveler and it would be unfair to the people who live on the island, who would have to tolerate whiny, demanding tourists who are pissed off because the water doesn't look like the pictures in the brochure, because their eggs aren't cooked the same way the eat them back home, or because there are just too many damned mosquitos.

I believe that someone who would be truly happy visiting Holbox is the type of independent traveler who needs very little in the way of a guide to get there, and certainly not the type of person who needs someone to plan their trip for them. Therefore, aside from a couple of stories about us doing not much of anything but walking about and hanging out, and a couple of slide shows comprised of pictures that we took on and around the island, and rather than giving a lot of detailed information about the island, its accommodations, or a list of what to do and see there, I will only offer this, which is my general assessment of the place. This is a guide to help a person determine whether or not they might enjoy a visit to Isla Holbox.

We loved it there, and we will return, but --

• If you must have luxury accommodations ... don't go.
• If you need to be advised as to how to occupy your time when you go on vacation ... don't go.
• If not having hot water any time that you want it would throw you into a hissie fit ... don't go.
• If you would object to walking everywhere you go for your entire stay ... don't go.
• If you would have a problem limiting everything you take on vacation to something that you could carry on your back as you walk up to two miles in the sand ... don't go
• If you must have drinks served to you on the beach ... don't go.
• If you don't like seafood ... don't go.
• If you don't like animals ... don't go.
• If you flip out just because a few mosquitoes decide that you would be a tasty snack ... don't go.
• If you can't survive without the services of a bank or ATM ... don't go.
• If you think that store owners, restauranteurs, waiters, and bartenders should be able to speak English ... don't go.
• If you insist upon flushing used TP down the toilet wherever you go, then please ... don't go.