Is the world really ending on December 21, 2012?

WELL, according to Tanya on the BA flight to Mexico City, yes, but not, she added mysteriously, ‘as you might think.’
It was easy to spot Tanya because rather than pay excess baggage, she had enterprisingly unpacked her suitcase and was wearing all her clothes in extraordinary layers to board the plane. She was migrating for good, to a country she had never visited because of the ancient Mayan prophecy that  at precisely 11.11am on the Winter Solstice of December 21, 2012, on the completion of the 5,125 year cycle of the Ancient Maya Long Count Calendar, a New Age is going to begin.
Tanya was on her way to join a growing community of people who are studying the event and, as she explained to me, believe it will not be world destruction but a huge axis shift in the behaviour of humanity for the better.
She was heading to live in the shadow of one of the great pyramids to personally witness the day, which she hoped would vindicate a life spent in meditation and spirituality. Her sincerity could not be doubted but in the drizzle of a dull Heathrow it seemed less plausible than standing here in the brilliant sun of a Mexican winter at the foot of one of great astronomical pyramids.
If you sit at their feet and have time to listen, elders of the Hopi and Mayan tribes will patiently explain that since 1999 the world has been in a state of “the time of no-time”: a predicted period of climate change and contamination, of man’s materialism destroying the planet. According to one elder, Hunbatz Men, the chosen, will be called back to the land of the Mayas, “masters will come from many places. They will be of many colours.”
I supposed that was why Tanya sold all her worldly possessions and packed a few bags with a one-way ticket to a small mountain town an hour’s bus ride from Mexico City.
On my return from the temple, I talk to the taxi driver, what does he think? This is not a country to disagree with strangers but he tells me has just read a report from NASA which says the date is wrong, it is actually 2010. Next year, you mean?
“Si, senora.”
“Oh dear,” I say.
“Yes,” he continues smiling, “You had better take my taxi tomorrow and we can do another site while there is still time.”
I laugh, and wonder if the myth and magic that permeates the air here will fade in the cold pragmatic light of England or if this time next year, I too will be standing at a departure gate with no return.

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