Were it not for my lack of a machete and a coiled whip, I might have been mistaken for Indiana Jones. There I was in the midst of the steaming jungle surrounded by crumbling walls caught in the grip of a thousand snaking vines.
Where was I, the depths of the Yucatan Peninsula? How could this be the north coast of Kaua'i? What could have caused so much devastation that it brought about the extinction of an entire civilization of joy-seeking tourists? And, what are those strange, deep-etched hieroglyphics that seem to resemble surfboards and beach umbrellas?
