Today we arrived in Mexico.

First port of call was another tender-job, with the ship anchored just off-shore long enough for excursions to be taken to Playa Del Carmen, on the mainland, before heading for the island of Cozumel. Today, I was escorting a tour to see the ancient ruins of the walled city of Tulum. This is another site of Mayan ruins, as opposed to Aztec, similar to those seen the other day, a tour billed as lasting 7 and a half hours.

Our guide, Armando, was a pleasant chap, who insisted that, as I was in Mexico, I should be known as Pedro, and he kept calling me Amigos, too.

Tulum is a major tourist attraction in Mexico, and they've really got their act together! Unlike the dodgy organisation experienced in the Honduras, the Mexicans really know how to run things. Unfortunately, this rather makes the whole experience a weany bit orchestrated (think Stonehenge, and you'll know what I mean). Huge coach-parks full of eager tourists, and endless tourist shops all selling exactly the same things. Men selling hats pounced upon us the minute we'd got off the bus - we'd been warned about the heat, and their eagerness to sell us cheap-looking straw hats was, it seems, only because they were thinking of our welfare. At $10 per hat, however, not many were biting.

To be fair, the site was impressive, with lots of ruins to look at, many crawling with Iguanas. Perhaps the most impressive bit, though, was discovered after the guided tour had finished and we were allowed to wander freely. A short walk to the head of the largest temple revealed a huge drop down to the sea - and what colours! People flocked to the edges just to peer in awe at the view, and the impromptu bathers far below.

As people arrived back at the bus they were handed a packed lunch, which included an iguana sandwich - very common in these parts - similar in taste to chicken, but a little shinier in texture.

On our return to Playa Del Carmen, we had to be taken by ferry to Cozumel, a bumpy 30-minute catamarran journey to rejoin The Balmoral. Frankly, I was slightly disappointed in the place, since its entire raison d'etre was to try and part tourists from their money, mainly in exchange for yet more garishly tacky tat. It reminded me of a Caribbean version of Blackpool.

Docked alongside, and dwarfing, the Balmoral, was a huge cruise liner, which I watched leave port at about 6pm this evening. When two ships are this close together, and one leaves, it's quite an occasion. Passengers from each vessel look across to one another with something resembling half-kinship, half-rivalry. As the huge monster of a ship started to pull away, the waving and the good-natured hollering and banter began, like we were all long-time freinds parting with such sweet sorrow. Fact is, we'll probably bump into them again in Key West, where we're due to arrive on Sunday. Tomorrow is the last sea-day, so I'll be giving workshops, and tonight it's 'Tropical' night, so I'm off now to join a deck party.