Isla Holbox

To get to Isla Holbox we had to take a collectivo from Playa to the small town of where we could catch a ferry across to the island. A Collectivo is a mini van which sort of operates as a shared taxi that only leaves once its full. The driver will do plenty of errands along the way, collecting things in shops from Playa and then dropping them to people in small villages along the way. For that reason it's hard to predict how long a collectivo will take to reach your destination, but ours took two and a half hours which by all accounts wasn't so bad for the distance.

After a quick half hour ferry ride we were at Holbox. Holbox is a narrow and 26 miles long. There are no cars on the island only golf buggies which have had their tyres modified to drive in the sand roads. 75% of the island is natural habitat, consisting of mangroves and long white undeveloped beaches. The beaches are absolutely stunning, and possibly the most beautiful we've seen in all of Mexico. The waters are crystal clear and shallow. The islands main town is adorably quaint and authentic, the locals, the Holboxeños, have fought to keep developers and resorts off the island. It has just enough bars and restaurants to entertain tourists and keeps its natural charm.

There's not much to do on the island, other than relax. Theres no phone signal and the WiFi is almost non existant. The only thing you could maybe complain about is it's a bit on the expensive side, especially for accommodation which is probably down to its limited availability. Our hotel was about a 10 minute walk along unlit sand roads from the islands only town, but was right by the beach.

The island is a home to an incredible amount of birds. From small hummingbirds and colourful parrots to herons, pelicans and cormorants which you could happily watch all day diving for fish in the sea. While on the island we took a boat tour out to three other tiny islands, one which homes a mangrove and hotsprings, and two islands including Isla Pájaros which are solely habitats to birds. At the right time of year flamingos can be found, but we had just missed them, but maybe given my luck with flamingos it wasn't a bad thing! 

After nearly 5 weeks of a solid carnivorous diet, Jonny shocked me by suggesting we dine in the two vegan/vegetarian restaurants in town. Both were excellent but "Náay" in particular offeed amazing Mexican vegetarian flavours.

 I was amazed at how difficult it was to get seafood in the evenings on the island. The seafood restaurants would open during the day but close for nightfall. I could only guess it was due to Mexican eating habits. Most Mexicans typically have 5 meals a day. The earliest around 8am is usually fruit, bread or tacos. At 10.30/11 its a most substantial breakfast usually containing eggs, or chilaquiles (nacho chips/crisps covered in salsa verde or rojo, onions, cheese and cream, delish) or 'hot cakes' which are pancakes but for some reason are called hot cakes and not translated into Spanish. At about 2 they have their main meal of the day, which will usually be meat, rice and beans but varies depending on the region. Around 6pm is a snack which is cake or bread and 10pm another very important meal which is typically tacos or any of the number of variations of soft corn wrap with meat and spicy salsa. Mexicans also drink an incredible amount of Coca Cola, they claim its the national drink. It's such a problem here that it's the only country in the world that managed to convince coca cola to reduce the sugar content in the 'original' version for sale in Mexico. The fact that three quarters of Mexicans are overweight or obese probably has something to do with it. 

Our last day in Holbox was to be out 3rd last night in Mexico. Over the last couple of weeks we'd been reading about the worsing covid situation in Ireland. The Christmas celebration had brought with it an explosion of cases and the country returned into the strictest level 5 lockdown yet, after only three weeks of being open. We decided another few weeks in Mexico would be a good idea and so extended our returning flight! 

Bacalar

We traveled 3 hours south close to the Beliz border to the small town of Bacalar. We would only spend 2 nights, but two nights were enough to explore this adorable town. The big tourist attractions of Bacalar is its enormous lake. It is proudly know as the lake of 7 colours by locals. However the most recent hurricane which hit in November had apparently disturbed the silt at the bottom of the lake making it more like the lake of 2 colours, but it was none the less beautiful.

After our coffin ship bedroom in Tulum we (or more like I) decided we were due a bit of luxury. We booked a small cabaña at Rancho Encantado which opened up right onto the lake. The cabaña was adorable with a thatched roof, a four poster bed and an outdoor jacuzzi. If we rathered fresh water we could climb down the ladder right outside our own front door into the lake. It was bliss.

There's not much to do in Bacalar, other than enjoy the lake, but after the madness of Tulum it was just what we needed.

We took one of the hotels double canoes one afternoon and rowed about 5km across the lake. After five years together, Jonny finally got to show off his famous rowing skills. We also visited the Fuerte de San Felipe, an 18th-century fort at the center of the town. It was built by the spanish, who destroyed the indigenous community, a story which is repeated throughout every town and city we visited.

Bacalar gave us a brief but well deserved rest and the most 'honeymoon' experience we'd had yet.

Tulum

We would spend the longest amount of time on our travels in Tulum, 11 days in total and would be there for Christmas and New Years. There is alot of hype about Tulum, friends who had visited Mexico in the past sung its praises and Instagram is a wash with photos of its beautiful beaches and art installations. I had been advised not to visit at Christmas and New Years as it was the busiest season and everything becomes very expensive. But wanting to be somewhere great for the festivities as well as having tickets to New Years Eve music festival in Tulum made it the place we had to be.

Tulum has a reputation for being a cool little hippy town, with adorable little cabaña huts on the beach and fantastic parties. And in some ways that is true, or at least traces of it remain. Its perfectly situated for visiting the many Cenotes and Mayan ruins which are close by. It has a beautiful beach, which stretches for miles, some great, very trendy, restaurants and shops and plenty of instagram opportunities.

 But in many ways its a victim of its own success. The cute little cabaña cost anywhere from €600 to €1200 a night during the Christmas season. So we stayed in the town for our stay, which is more affordable, but still expensive by Mexican standards. The town is 5 km from the beach so to get around we rented a scooter we called our little 'Moto' and it was more of a blessing than we could have initially realised. The beach road stretches for 10.5 km (as does the beautiful beaches) but it is a nightmare for anyone who uses it, particularly for the high season. The businesses on it are high end, pricey affairs but the road is a narrow, pothole ridden track and is no way adequate for the massive volumes of traffic. There is no footpath along it, so you have pedestrians, cyclists, scooters, cars and trucks all competing which makes it very unpleasant. But with little Moto we could weave in and out of traffic. We heard stories of people being stuck on buses for 2 hours trying to get to the beach.

The beach is split into two zones, the archeology side, which has mayan ruins and easy access to the public beaches. The second is zona hotel side, which crammed with restaurants and hotels. The beach access has been blocked off by all the hotels, despite the beach being public, but if your a brazen Irish couple you'll have no problem using the hotel carparks for free and walking through a hotel to get to the beach.

For our first 6 days in Tulum we stayed in a lovely hostel called Mimosa which was run by an Australian man who had opened it a year ago. We were his first honeymoon couple and he was very excited it have us. Flowers and sparkling wine greated us in our room when we checked in. The next day Jonny would be struck down with the same mystery gasto infliction I had in Mérida, which would also last for 24 hours. I spent the day nursing him as best I could, as he had done for me. I only ventured out for breakfast. I got chatting to the two other people at the breakfast table, one was Carrie, an American who told me she was an astrologist. The other was Frank who was German. They had been deep in discussion about the pandemic when I joined them. When I told them I was Irish they said they had just been discussing the potato famine and how the British orcastrated the whole thing so they could take control of Northern Ireland. I corrected them, telling them Britain already ruled all of Ireland at the time so they didn't need to orcastrate anything, but they certainly didn't help the Irish, sending other crops which were grown in the country to the UK and letting the Irish starve. Instead of accepting the correction, Carrie put it to me that maybe I only believed that because it's what the main stream media in Ireland had told me.

It was going to be a long breakfast.

I silently listened to them discuss how the pandemic was a hoax, how the Mayans had predicted it, that next comes the year of enlightenment when people would 'wake up' to the lies. How Bill Gates wanted mass extinction. Frank spoke of how when he returns to Germany he's going to have to fill out a form for the authorities and he doesn't want to give them his information. I wondered why he had come in the first place. He said he'd have to go back at the start of January for work. He was a teacher. He spoke of how he won't get a PCR test because it's all a cover to just harvest our DNA and plant chips in people. When I told them I'd been getting tested every week in work they looked at me in absolute horror.

Not everyone we met in Tulum had such extreme views on the pandemic but without fail with everyone we met, the conversation would always circle back to it. All European tourists we met (and there was alot) said that they'd come to escape the lockdowns. Some said they couldn't handle it anymore, some already had covid and were making use of their antibodies, some were working remotely and had been there for months. And for anyone wanting to hide from the realities of the world, Tulum was the perfect place. Life was completely normal in Tulum, the old version of normal. Although it was apparently in 'orange', like Mexico City was, we saw no signs of it. Most people didn't even wear masks on the streets, and all businesses, pubs, clubs were operating as normal. Rumour has it, it's down to the cartels heavy financial interest in Tourism. 

The freedoms we had in Tulum was something we took full advantage of on Christmas Day. Unlike home, pretty much everything was open. Christmas Eve is a bigger celebration in Mexico, they traditionally don't have Santa Claus, one Mexican telling me 'he is for the North Americans'. The Nativity plays a more important role, some having a whole room in their home dedicated to life size statues of its characters. Baby Jesus isn't added until Christmas Eve when gifts are exchanged with family and piñatas shaped of strange stars are smashed. 

Our Christmas Day involved drinking DIY Mimosas on the beach, a restaurant in the town for dinner and then onto an amazing music bar called Batey which is famed for its Mojitos and Guarapo. There was a fantastic jazz band playing and the place was packed, we were seated at a table with strangers, which is always a great way to get chatting to people. Charles and his wife were sat at our table, traveling from Texas. Charles was in the military and had travelled to more than 70 countries with work so knew plenty about the world. He was very found of a drink, and for that reason really wanted to come to Ireland. His wife was very quiet to begin with, wearing a mask, which she then confessed was an attempt to stop her from throwing up. They had been drinking all day with new friends they'd made that day on the beach and unlike her husband she wasn't much of a drinker. Luckily Charles had us, and he bought us shots of tequila to celebrate our honeymoon. At some point his wife, after a couple of trips to the bathroom to be sick, insisted they go home. 

The bar only accepted cash so Jonny left in search for bank machine. He was gone so long by the time he returned the band had finished, I had got chatting to them (they were French and Mexican), and they thought my new husband had abandoned me. Jonny eventually returned with cash, and three new friends in tow. A guy called Erin, from Israel, who was living in the States and had been turned away from the Israeli border when trying to get home for Christmas to see his mum, so they both came to Mexico instead for Christmas. And two young English girls who were on holiday, both of which had gotten covid at home from their parents who worked in healthcare. They were still stoned from some brownies they'd had on the beach and were ready for bed until Jonny convinced them to come to a nightclub we'd heard about. 

So off we all set, originally planning to go to the locals nightclub called Chizpa, but instead ending up in the more tourist La Taverna across the road. It was a pre pandemic version of busy, with sweaty tourists feverishly dancing to electronic beats. Initially being in a busy nightclub felt strange, after nearly a year of being told to keep your distance from stranger but quickly the thrill of normality took hold. Jonny and I barely saw each other that night, instead drunk with the excitement of talking to strangers. Jonny would only reappear sporadically to introduce me to particularly interesting strangers. Two of my favourites were the Mexican junior doctors, Jonny spoke in Italian with one who was fluent, and I with my terrible Spanish. They were in Tulum for a couple of days to party, and were flying back to Mexico city the next day at 7pm. Yes the Mexican hospitals were in a bad way with Covid, and no they weren't worried about catching covid in the nightclub. They looked almost confused when we asked 'we have to live', one replied. 

They also told us how they, like all doctors, had to pay money to the cartel. 'Everyone has to pay' the told us. 

When we left at 4am, the party was still going strong.

For the next few days we visited many cenotes which surround Tulum. A cenote is a natural pit, or sinkhole, resulting from the collapse of limestone bedrock that exposes groundwater. Cenotes can be open, semi-open or caves. Most impressively, they were formed when the asteroid that killed the dinasours hit the earth. It hit where the Yucatan peninsula is today. They are incredibly beautiful, magical and other worldly. For some you can swim, snorkel or dive between their underground caved passage ways. My favourites were the Choo-ha and Tankach-ha cenotes outside of Coba, where we also spent a way walking and exploring mayan ruins.

Coming up to New Years Eve we saw an influx of new visitors, we had to move accommodation, and our shoe box room beside a motorway felt more like a coffin ship. It was still more expensive than most places we had stayed so far on our trip. Our New Years Eve Festival, Zamna, which was to happen in the Tulum jungle, was cancelled after some American tourists had gotten covid attending another Tulum festival in November. They blamed Tulum for their sickness and it had gotten some media coverage in the States.

There were plenty of secret parties organised in the jungles for NYE, but we had heard stories of police showing up to previous such parties, looking for bribes, and people being stranded in the jungle. However, finding an affordable New Years event in Tulum was a struggle. The Instagram famous Papaya Playa Project was charging 670 US dollars per person for the night, which included a dinner, but no drinks, and there was a minimum consumption charge. We did venture down to the beach front to explore some options, most charging 150-200 dollars each for a meal. We snuck into a few to see if they were worth the money but most were half empty and not much fun. We even tried a small, unassuming sushi restaurant beside the busy traffic ridden beach road. After we were seated we were told there normal, reasonable menu we had been given wasn't being served that night and instead they were doing a platter of sushi for 150 dollars each.

We left and high tailed it back to the busy town where we found a nice, normally priced restaurant beside the main strip. We bar hoped about the town, ending the night with a street party with music from some amazing street drummers. We then went to La Taverna but they were now charging 50 US dollars to gain entry. 

If you are looking for a good meal along the beach front while in Tulum, Arca is worth worth every penny. For a cheaper meal Sabor Del Mar in the city does amazing seafood. 

After our 11 days, we were more than ready to leave Tulum to venture further south to Bacalar.

Mérida

We got the first of many Ado buses to Mérida. They're comfy and spacious and if you're into badly dubbed TV shows, entertaining too.

The city of Mérida would be our only destination in the Yucatan state. Its architecture is European in style but mostly one story in height. Its incredibly safe, the police don't even carry guns.

I had unknowingly booked a hotel, Palacio Secreto, which was Irish owned. We spent the afternoon chatting with the daughter of one of the owners, Anita, who was pregnant with mexican/Irish twins. Her mother and step father had set up the hotel 4 years ago just as Mérida was becoming popular amongst European tourists. Anita had introduced her parents to airbnb for a spare room they had and from that they were inspired to buy and set up a hotel, completely from scratch. The site was little more than a ruin when they bought it and they had transformed it into a really beautiful building, with stone pillars, intricate mosaics and full of stunning antique furniture. 

Later Paul arrived and joined us and Anita. Like Anita he was thrilled to have Irish guests, it had been a while. We were fascinated with their story. Paul is a roscommon man who had owned a popular nightclub in Carrig on Shannon. After the economic crash, and many personal injury claims in the nightclub resulting in sky high insurance, he'd had enough, sold everything and they came to Mexico he told us. He was particularly fond of the lack of a compensation culture in Mexico 'in Ireland if someone sees a hole in the ground, they'll jump into it and it will be the councils fault. In Mexico, if you fall in a hole in the ground, you're the idiot for walking into it!' 

He invited us to come to the Irish Bar 'Kennedys' some evening with him and his partner Martina. He even tried to get them to open early the day of the All Ireland Final but sadly they couldn't. 

Our time in Mérida was spent wandering the streets, parks and markets. The beautiful architecture making everything fascinating. The restaurants are all superb too, specialising in Yucatan dishes. There's many stunning abandoned 18th and 19th Century buildings around the outskirts of Mérida. The rope was made from the henequén plant. Exporting it to Europe made the settlers in Mérida and the town very wealthy, resulting in the stunning homes which can still be seen in the city. At the turn of the 20th Century it was said that Mérida had more millionaire's than anywhere else in the world. The invention of nylon saw the rope industry crumble, and with it the buildings. 

The people of Mérida are incredibly proud of their city. Locals on the street would welcome us and advice us on what to see and do in Mérida. One man told us he was happy to see tourists back, they had stopped coming for a while. He presumed it was because the pandemic was so bad in Europe, they didn't get many North Americans he said. 

While there were plenty of lively bars and restaurants to visit, they had to close at 10pm because of a covid curfew. One we particularly enjoyed was called Negrita, it had live music, a great food menu and mescal tasting. Halfway through a mescal tasting session, complete with orange slices and crickets, I spotted a man sitting on his own not to far from us. Blondy red hair, pale, wearing a mexico football Jersey, bootleg jeans and runners, I was convinced he was Irish. 'I dare you to ask him' I encouraged Jonny. 

He did, and, he wasn't. Kevin was from Virgina but lived in Texas. After an awkward introduction, Jonny invited him to join us. 

Kevin was traveling alone, often came to Mexico and could work from here on his laptop, had no solid plans or return date. 

We spoke about maybe visiting the flamingos on a tour, Kevin was going too, but he had a car and could drive us. 

So the next day, after recovering from our Mescal hangover, we met Kevin and drove an hour to the town of. Where we did a boat tour to see 100s of flamingos feeding, swam in some hot springs and floated through some mangroves. It was a lovely day. 

We had met a German and Spanish couple while waiting for our tour, they had got a slow local bus there and wondered if Kevin could give them a lift back to Mérida. So they joined me in the back of the car. They had met backpacking at the start of the year and had fallen in love. They had returned to Europe together when the pandemic hit and isolated together in Spain for a while where there love blossomed. And now they were in Mexico to spend Christmas together and to visit a friend. 

We were having a pleasant trip home until about 20 mins into our journey I began to feel weirdly car sick. When we got to a federalli checkpoint I asked if we could pull in just after it so I could swap seats with Jonny who was sitting in the front. Kevin did, but as I opened the car door I felt very dizzy. In my mind, I was walking through a shopping center, going up an esculator and the colours blue and yellow were very important. 

To everyone else, I had passed out. 

From Jonnys account, I opened the car door, stood up, said something about feeling sick and then slumped down into the seat. He tried to hold me up. I came to for a few seconds (I don't remember) but then passed out again and fell to the floor. Then made some horrible gasping noise and went rigid, 'like rigermortis'. 

Jonny thought I had died. 

Suddenly I could hear Jonny screaming my name, which was weird because I was having such a lovely sleep. I opened my eyes to see an utterly terrified Jonny over me and a night sky behind him. I had no idea what was going on, he lifted me and hugged me. I did not feel well, but was also suddenly aware of the Mexican police, staring at me with their blinding flash lights and the Spanish girl trying to negotiate with them. They thought I was on drugs and wanted to call an ambulance. I wasn't fully alert but knew we had to get out of there. I insisted I was fine, and we all piled into the car and drove away. We made it about 200 metres before having to pull in again for the first of many vomits on the side of a dark Mexican Highway. The drive home was horrific, I remember little, other than the vomiting and alot of discussion as to whether they should be driving to a hospital or not. 

Ive no doubt our new couple friends wished they had gotten the bus. 

Jonny was frantic, Kevin was very calming. 'it happens in Mexico, it happened to me on a hike once'. I insisted I just wanted to get back to the hotel. 

Many, many stops later, we made it, I crawled up stairs, past a panicking Jonny who was trying to negotiate with the night porter about a pharmacy or hospital or doctor. One reassuring phonecall to Chris, our doctor friend in Australia, and Jonny reluctantly decided I could stay where I was. I was sick for a few more hours but eventually fell asleep. The joys of traveling in Latin America! 

We spent the day in the hotel room recovering, me from sickness, Jonny from shock, Paul brought me a light breakfast in bed. I blamed the flamingos for the mystery sickness. The last time we tried to see flamingos together, in Colombia, we were both struck down by food poisoning the night before. 

Paul and Martina were keen to get us to Kennedys for our last night in Mérida, despite last night's drama. I rallied and went, though stuck to safe sparkling water for the night. Kevin joined us too, God knows I owed him a pint. 

Paul and Martina told us of the St. Patrick's Day parade they had that year. A sizable affair by all accounts. That evening the chief of police popped by Kennedys to congratulate them for it. 'How many Irish are in Mérida anyway?' he asked there table of 5. 'You're looking at half the population here!' they laughed.

The chief of police in Mérida has managed to keep it a cartel free zone, Martina told us it was one of the many reasons they'd settled there. They'd explored other parts of South America, and Mexico before deciding On Mérida.

 'And the health care system is very good in Mexico. Its far better than in Ireland' 

 Paul had a triple heart by pass a few years ago. 'If I had gotten sick in Ireland, I would have died.'

They also told us of their brush with Covid. They had both caught it, and had been worried, what with Paul's heart. 'it was nothing though, just a bit of conjunctivitis, hardly sick. I've had Dengie fever, malaria, you name it, covid doesn't compare to any of them. People are so scared at home, it's a bit much, I mean, most people that catch it are fine' Martina told me.

They both spent alot of the night trying to convince us to move to México, and Mérida. Best decision they'd ever made, they hadn't regretted a day. I have to say, they painted a pretty amazing picture of their life there, from the weather to the relaxed way of life.

I left Jonny drinking shots of Mescal to the early hours of the morning with Paul, sneaking off to get a few hours sleep before our bus to Tulum the next day. 

Isla Mujeres

We flew from Mexico City to Cancun. Mexico City Airport was buzzing with people, long snaking queues everywhere, people running to catch flights and us trying to figure out where to go. After joining the wrong snaking queue we were kindly jumped to a priority queue to check in our bag.

The flight, once again, was sold out. There's plenty of air travel happening in the vast México, on the CDMX to Cancun route alone there's up to 27 direct flights day.

We would briefly travel through Cancun to get to the boat to Isla Mujeres, but first we'd need to get ferry terminal. There's no 'official' taxis at the airport and uber is blocked, so you are forced to negotiate with private companies, all costing at least three times what we paid for similar taxis in Mexico City. Cancun already felt like a cartel run city.

And then our Taxi took us to a port that had no ferries, he would only take us to the next port if we paid an additional fee!

After a brief negotiation, and me, wrongly, believing maybe it was an honest mistake in our drivers part, we finally found out way to the boat to Isla Mujeres.

Isla is a small island about a half an hour boat trip from Cancun. Its 10km long and at the north tip, where we were staying, less than 1 km wide. The North beach has the most perfect fine white Caribbean sand and crystal clear blue/green waters. We dumped our baggage at the hotel and made our way to the beach to catch the last hour of sun on our arrival. It was a humid 29 degrees at 5pm and we jumped into the water just in time for a rain shower! Trust the Irish to bring the rain to the carribean!

We drank and danced at the fun beach club Green Demon, and made friends with our Argentinan waiter, who drank tequila with us to celebrate our honeymoon. They had a fantastic live band followed by dancers, fire poi, Isis winged dancers. Our waiter told us Sunday is the day for the locals to come party, and that they did, dancing on the sand till the early hours of the morning. It was bliss.

We spent a few days on Isla, and given its tiny size there's not a whole lot to do on the island other than lounging on the pristine North Beach, eating and drinking. But when your escaping an Irish winter, it's just perfect. It's pretty touristy, which is hardly a surprise given its proximity to Cancun. Walking through the main streets is like running a gauntlet with literally every shop assistant calling you and trying to get you into the shop. I found the approach a bit overly aggressive and it reminded me of walking the souks of marrakesh, right down to the same cat calling of 'Barbie' and 'Blondy' (which only happened when I went out without Jonny).

Other than the sellers, it was a very laid back affair on Isla and this applied to covid regulations to. To be honest I'm not sure there were any, other than wearing masks inside, sometimes, and there were plenty of live bands and entertainment. One restaurant owner told us the island had been closed to tourists for seven months and only opened in October. To date there had only been 219 cases on the island. The closure had devasted the island, who's only economy was tourism. Many businesses closed, never to reopen. I wondered if that was why the shop assistants were so keen.

We spent one day diving with a group from our hotel, visiting a pretty impressive underwater museum and then a coral reef site where we saw a turtle, lobsters and plenty of amazing colourful fish. The visibility under the sea is superb.

We rented a scooter to explore the length of the island, from tip to tip it only takes a half an hour to drive. It was a pleasant uneventful escurtion, until on our return we drove past a truck and police car pulled over the side of a road surrounded with police tape right outside a naval base. The next street we passed, small and narrow, we saw locals standing by some more tape, looking down the street where a car with an open door was abandoned and now had police in white overalls taking photos and examining the scene... We only got a glimpse but it was enough to know it was a crime scene.

Later that day we found articles, with graphic photos, of the murder scene we had witnessed! Seemingly it had happened just a half an hour before we drove by. A 'sicario' had come to the island that day by ferry for the hit, and for some reason, thought close by the naval base was a good place to kill his target. It was all caught on the cctv cameras belonging to the naval base and he was quickly caught by the island police attempting to make a get away back to the ferry terminal.

Alot of excitement for an island with a population of  12,600. The victim was a young male islander, we never found out the reason for the assassination but no doubt it was cartel/drug related.

With that, we were ready to leave Isla Mujeres and make our way to the cartel free city of Mérida!