Campeche

Actually, the city's name is San Francisco de Campeche, since it's from the times when you just had to have a Saint caring for your city. It used to be the main port of the Spaniards in Yucatán, and every single pirate sailing in the Caribbean passed by at least once. Usually, they did not just stop to have a cup of chocolate or similar beverage, but tried to sack it. 

San Francisco didn't do a very good job at protecting the city, so at some point, the (surviving) people got fed up with pirate attacks, and built themselves eight massive forts, connected by sturdy city walls. 

And that's how the city got itself the status of UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Looks like the Spanish soldiers defending the city weren't very tall. Still, they somehow managed to beat off most pirate attacks after the fortifications had been completed.

 In Celestún, we learn that there is no direct way towards the south. So we take a bus to Mérida, get off at the wrong stop, walk halfway across the city to the correct bus terminal, and are finally on our five-hour drive towards Campeche.

So we arrive in Campeche in the late afternoon, and a short taxi ride brings us to the city centre. A hostel (the "Monkey Hostel", a lot more quiet than the name suggests) is easily found, and immediately after dumping our backpacks, we set out to explore.

The colonial city centre is, of course, very nicely restored. It seems that a lot of the money goes into bright paint: Every single facade is tinted in another garish colour. We do find a way to pass the city walls and reach the malecon, but can't help to feel slightly disappointed. The sunset is hidden by clouds, and the seafront can't keep up with the ones in Cuba (okay, I admit it: we are already really spoilt). Still, it's a nice walk. 

On our way back, we randomly meet a guy that works for the Mexican state statistics office, and learn a few interesting facts about Yucatán. (Lowest crime rate of Mexico, and highest suicide rate. Some more input, but it does not help me to form a coherent picture of the area.)

On the next day, we decide to inspect the historic sights of the city a bit closer. It turns out that you can walk on top of the most parts of the city wall.

The brightly painted house facades reflecting bright sunshine onto the whitewashed city wall.

And, I'm excited to learn, some enthusiastic people have created a small but interesting pirate museum in one of the old fort.

To be very honest, it's not a big thing, just three rooms with many tableaus (only in Spanish), some reproductions of ancient city maps, and very few exhibits, mostly handguns and swords used by/against the pirates, but.. Arrrrr, I love it!

  

For instance, I did not know before that pirate came in four distinct flavours: pirates (classical "I refuse to fit in the system, give me your gold, Spaniard, arrr, or I'll rip out yer throat" guys with a truly inspiring Anarchistic approach to property), buccaneers (pretty much the same, but usually better equipped, more manpower, more ships, and more prone to attack fortified coastal towns), and corsairs and freebooters (both sailing for one or the other government, usually trying to weaken the Spanish).

However, I have found out (after reading up a bit on the topic), even those four designations lack precise definitions, and are often mixed up. But on my pirate cruise through the internet, I've found some etymological treasures:

For example, "freebooter" comes from the Dutch word "frij buiter", meaning "free boat-er" or, to be a bit more poetic, "guy with a boat being wild and free." It translated into German "Freibeuter", French "filibustier" (long way here..), and Spanish "filibustero" (looks like they talked with the French about the blasted frijbuiters...).

Banderas Piratas, pirate flags, used by the guys who burnt and plundered Campeche, and their colleagues.

Okay, I will refrain from rhapsodizing more about pirates and return to Campeche. We also find the local fruit and food market (as always worth it!), and a botanical garden (also in one of the old fortifications. It's a small place, but a nice, calm spot, so we spend a long time there, a lot longer than it takes to see all the trees, bushes and flowers.)

We also visited one of the old gate houses (not containing any plants or pirated, but the lady in the picture below.)

From left to right: Young lady with traveller's outfit, older lady with typical dress from the region.

On our last evening in the town we meet a couchsurfer for a couple of beers. Daniel is a marine biologist, and a really nice guy. We learn the answers to a lot of our questions (okay, some of them didn't come to our mind before we met him): 

• One of the things marine biologists do is monitor the population of certain sea creatures, and help to set reasonable fishing limits in case the populations are found to be too low. (In this case, Daniel is the specialist for shrimps.)
• Sea cucumbers are fished in the Caribbean in large quantities and exported to Asia, where they are considered a delicacy. However, the preparation of the dish is time-consuming and complicated.
• I always thought they look like poo on the bottom of the ocean, but they are really aquatic earthworms, meaning they are tremendiously important for the ecology of the sea bottom. They eat and filter a huge quantity of sand each day.
• On the topic of exotic food: I also learned that I do not like the Mexican cow stomach soup, and eliminated the name for it from my memory.
• Flamingoes taste like chicken. 
• Also, they are highly endangered, and are only eaten by this marine biologist because he got a dead one from a local fisherman.
• Said fisherman shoots flamingoes very rarely, and doesn't eat them. He just uses the pink feathers to make fly-fishing bait.
• One flamingo has enough feathers for a lot of bait.

Aaand a lot more! Campeche was pretty to see, but wouldn't have been half as interesting without this Couchsurfing meeting.