Yucatan's pristine paradise

We were in the jungle, about an hour's drive inland from Mexico's Caribbean coast, when I stumbled upon a fine metaphor for the Riviera Maya, the tourist-friendly nickname for the eastern edge of the Yucatan peninsula.

Our group of six had kayaked and then hiked along a well-marked path to a cenote. Stripping down to our swimsuits, we could barely wait to explore this water-filled limestone sinkhole

Taking a closer look, we warily contemplated the cave's narrow entrance, or chimuch -- Mayan for "frog's mouth" -- and we weren't entirely sure we wanted to be swallowed up by it.

Making like crabs, we backed in under the low-hanging lip of rock. Once inside, we walked down a stairway into a shadowy cavern full of dripping stalactites. I understood why the ancient Mayans considered cenotes links to the underworld. I also understood why we were told to wear our bathing suits. The crystal-clear water was cool and soft -- the most sublime swimming hole I've ever visited.