I don't fish. I can count on one hand the number of times I have gone fishing. Not because I have some ridiculous moral code that prevents me from sticking a hook their scaly flesh, but because I find it to be... how do I say this gently?
Boring.
I do not hunt either. Although there was that one time when I rode around on the back of my brother's truck chasing groundhogs. I have killed spiders before; more or less because I felt they were hunting me.
Nor do I make a habit out of wearing camouflage as to make myself invisible to critters. If I wear camo, it's because it's re-gifted hat that no one wanted.
Furthermore, I generally choose something other than fox pee for my personal eau de toilette.
"Kim" called me yesterday. She tried really hard to get me to see myself differently.
According to "Kim", I was such a valued customer at the local Bass Pro Shop (I've been there twice), that my name was chosen for an outstanding travel package. "Kim" spoke to me for 15 minutes, calling me by my first name as if we had been long-time friends. "Kim" shared with me of her own travels and the impact her experiences had on her and her loved ones.
"Kim" spoke in earnest about her appreciation of my purchasing-power in such a way, that I ALMOST believed Bass Pro would send me away on an all-inclusive vacation. After all, my only responsibility would be to drive myself there.
"Kim" recommended Williamsburg.
All I would need to do to make this happen included securing the packet for delivery with my VISA or MasterCard. The packet, "Kim" said, contained sensitive material, including "two $25 gift cards for Bass Pro! Isn't that awesome Rachel??"
Totally.
"So how much we talking on the VISA?"
"Well, after counting in all of savings that we are offering, this is a real steal Rachel. You will receive the gift cards, paid vacation and a certificate for a cruise that is good up to a year for only $269.43!!"
"That's cool. So I'm getting a free vacation for $269.43?"
"Yep! It's a really great deal Rachel..." and then she proceeded to tell me about her trip to Las Vegas and the food she ate and how cute her boyfriend looked and... you get the picture.
"Um, well I just returned from a trip to Mexico, so I can't really afford $269.43 for a free vacation."
"I totally understand Rachel. I know money can be tight which is another reason why this deal is so AWESOME! I mean all the money you get to save by getting this deal..."
"Yes. It is awesome Kim. Totally. But I don't have $269.43 for a free vacation."
"Okay... let's see what I can do for you. Tell you what, I'll offer you this deal for $218. That includes the gift cards, vacation and cruise!!"
"Right. I don't have $218 for a free vacation."
"Hang on one sec Rachel okay? I'm gonna send you to my manager and see how we can help you."
Silence.
"Hi, Rachel?" The voice sounded less chipper and more demure.
"Yes."
"I understand we are offering you this amazing deal at minimal cost... are you interested?"
"I just returned from Mexico. I can't afford this free vacation."
"Okay I tell you what I'm going to do for you... I'm only allowed two of these a day and haven't used any so far."
I wait.
"I'm gonna give you this package for the slim cost of $116 Rachel! This is quite a deal!!"
"Yeah, uh, I can't afford $116 dollars for a free vacation."
"Are you sure?" sounding annoyed, "This is a really good deal Rachel."
"Yeah, I can't afford $116 dollars for a free vacation."
"Okay."
Silence.....
.................
"But... thank you?"
Silence......
Dial tone.
I wonder about the irony here... I did actually buy something from Bass Pro. Once. For my trip to Mexico.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Monday, May 27, 2013
Day 8: The Final Farewell
With America knocking on our door, it's funny how time just seemed to speed back up suddenly. I could smell coffee brewing in the breeze. I heard the shuffling of others shaking the sleepy from their bodies and preparing for the final journey ahead. By some strange twist of fate I had the wherewithall to pack light so it didn't require too much effort.
But still, there was a quiet sulleness in my midst knowing that we had only a few short hours left before "good bye" would be mandated. Trying to soak up as much of the shore line as possible, a group of 15 would-be residents repacked for the trip home, giving gracious farewells to Tom and his amazing crew....
By the way, Geydhi and Jose did EVERYTHING short of wiping our butts while we were there. Incredibly hospitable, friendly, warm and forgiving (for our more obnoxious nights). They work hard... damn hard.
We piled up into our caravan after what seemed like an hour of exchanging embraces and farewell's and "see you soon"'s. With one last final check, the van doors shut... and Casa del Corazon became a lasting imprint in our rear view mirrors as well as our hearts.
The time spent there has left such an impression that many of us will return again in the Fall of 2014. Same place. Same exact coordinates on the map.
Tom is a host with the most. And I can't wait to Viva La Mexico all over again.
But still, there was a quiet sulleness in my midst knowing that we had only a few short hours left before "good bye" would be mandated. Trying to soak up as much of the shore line as possible, a group of 15 would-be residents repacked for the trip home, giving gracious farewells to Tom and his amazing crew....
By the way, Geydhi and Jose did EVERYTHING short of wiping our butts while we were there. Incredibly hospitable, friendly, warm and forgiving (for our more obnoxious nights). They work hard... damn hard.
We piled up into our caravan after what seemed like an hour of exchanging embraces and farewell's and "see you soon"'s. With one last final check, the van doors shut... and Casa del Corazon became a lasting imprint in our rear view mirrors as well as our hearts.
The time spent there has left such an impression that many of us will return again in the Fall of 2014. Same place. Same exact coordinates on the map.
Tom is a host with the most. And I can't wait to Viva La Mexico all over again.
 |
| Landing in RVA |
Day 7: Down with the Sickness
Was the room spinning? Nope. That's just the ceiling fan. I spent the majority of this day in the quiet solitude of my Zen Palpita. If you're going to be sick in any fashion, I would strongly suggest waiting until you get to paradise. There's no better place to have a "bug"... though it was arguably a hangover, I prefer to say I had a "bug". It gives the appearance of greater self-respect.
My comrads enjoyed the sunbeams and the sand per usual. I simply slept. Threw up a few times too... but what does that matter? I was still in paradise. And somehow, that made even the dry-heaves worth it.
On that note, I'm gonna grab a beer. One sec...
As I was saying, I spent the day listening to exotic birds and gentle breezes in the comfort of my bed. Visitors stopped by on occasion to make sure I was ingesting water and a cracker or two. Tom even took it upon himself to visit with the wise tale coined "Hair of the Dog" in an effort to mend my nauseated tummy. Emerging from my palpita with a Dos Equis to quell the heave, I made my way to join the others at the beach. A short few minutes in the hammock, and I was out... again. Embraced by the lapping ocean and coconuts... who silently mocked me with their hairy little faces.
I slept... and slept... and slept.......
Viva la Mexico.
My comrads enjoyed the sunbeams and the sand per usual. I simply slept. Threw up a few times too... but what does that matter? I was still in paradise. And somehow, that made even the dry-heaves worth it.
On that note, I'm gonna grab a beer. One sec...
 |
| Mimi joined me for a snooze. |
I slept... and slept... and slept.......
Viva la Mexico.
6: Drunken Tortugas
 |
| Happy campers! |
 |
| Instructor at the Akumal Dive Shop |
We followed behind our guides in the white special bus (i.e. our rental van) through about 15 minutes of jungle. The sites of minmal shelters that many called homes, and the tiny yet charming escola, gave us all another take on life in the Yucatan peninsula. Welcome to the jungle, it's all not fun and games. Exotic as it may be, I don't think I have what it takes to live there. Granted, I am thinking this from the comfort of our air conditioned ride, but it was my initial thought. Part of me likes to think that I could make it work... and then I realize that I digress and would rather focus on the destination at hand.
The Yucatan Peninsula has a vast array of underground waterways known as Cenotes. The water is fresh, clear and approximately 72 degrees... not your normal bath water mind you. I was happy to be a Spanish sausage.
Making our way from the van to the cenote, we walk single-file to the place of entry. It's a bat cave. With amazing stalagtites that make the earth around it appear as if frozen in time mid-drip. Two-by-
 |
| Cenote |
Several members of the group risked the fear of tight spaces to visit this place... and once captured by the beauty of our natural surroundings, the fears were faced and conquered. With much jubilation and chattering teeth, we reached the end of our journey in the cenote greeted by the cuddly-hanging faces of the bats the reside there (yes, by this point they were actually cute as opposed to scarey).
 |
| The fish help to keep the sea turtle's shell clean. |
beautiful cornicopia of tropical fish. The whole adventure lasted several hours. The experience will last a life time. Luckily, the hickey that the snorkeling mask made around my eye balls only lasted a few minutes.
We finished our adventure with much-needed refreshment in the town of Akumal. Stumbling upon a charming restaurant who's name escapes me (I will blame it on their strong margarita's), we enjoyed a delightful meal in the cool shade of the palm trees. The waiter treated us each to a shot of Cacau, which I believe is a local liquor made from a tree or something like that. At this time I was less than able to fully comprehend any pertinent information. However, I do recall that the service was excellent despite that fact that I needed to dilute the same margarita TWICE. Whoosh!
Once again, we returned to our regularly scheduled programming at the casa... it's a hard life.
Viva la Mexico.
Day 5: Mayan Marriage Celebrations
It's probably safe to say that approximately 40-45% of those in attendance had some sort of romantic encounter of significance to celebrate during our week in Mayan paradise. Some took the morning to do some shopping in the town of Tulum. I stayed behind to bask in the timeless existence of just being where I was. That's a lie: in actuality I simply didn't feel like thinking about how to spend pesos. And quickly made peace with that.
I don't know that I've ever experienced this sort of "lazy" before.
Actually, that's a misnomer. What I typically consider "lazy" with my American thinking is, in actuality, a sort of relaxed quality of life that I am utterly unaccustomed to. It dawned on me as I was enjoying the company of those who stayed behind, that this was a totally new way of being for me.
I sat. I listened to music. I skipped around. I sat some more. I conversed. I twirled. I plucked my eyebrows. I completely lounged and enjoyed my surroundings.
I even enjoyed me.
I did not feel guilty for doing so. I did not feel the compulsion to go "do" and "be responsible" in an effort "save time" to relax later. I didn't have to have a plan to be more efficient. I did not have to multi-task or be available to anyone's needs but my own. It felt very foreign; yet also familiar... like it's the way things should be. Perhaps the greater truth is that it's the way things could be if I'd get out of my own way.
That evening a beautiful meal was prepared for us by Geydhi (I hope I spelled that correctly), Tom's right hand woman... to celebrate the anniversaries of some of my dearest friends. And I thought it to be a unique personal metaphor... this Marriage Celebration... it's not only the partners we choose that make it a marriage... it's also our relationships we choose to have with ourselves.
For that, too, is a sort of marriage. You're sort of committed to yourself for life.
The love I observed being displayed around the feasting table, whether through jokes, hugs, or head-locks... I was proud to be part of such a colorful and wierd group of people. Each with their own journey; their own story to be told; their own aches, pains and joys.
A collective group of beautifully crafted humans in every way.
And to that, I raised my glass.
Viva La Mexico.
 |
| Morning Yoga lead by our very own Walter |
I don't know that I've ever experienced this sort of "lazy" before.
Actually, that's a misnomer. What I typically consider "lazy" with my American thinking is, in actuality, a sort of relaxed quality of life that I am utterly unaccustomed to. It dawned on me as I was enjoying the company of those who stayed behind, that this was a totally new way of being for me.
I sat. I listened to music. I skipped around. I sat some more. I conversed. I twirled. I plucked my eyebrows. I completely lounged and enjoyed my surroundings.
I even enjoyed me.
I did not feel guilty for doing so. I did not feel the compulsion to go "do" and "be responsible" in an effort "save time" to relax later. I didn't have to have a plan to be more efficient. I did not have to multi-task or be available to anyone's needs but my own. It felt very foreign; yet also familiar... like it's the way things should be. Perhaps the greater truth is that it's the way things could be if I'd get out of my own way.
That evening a beautiful meal was prepared for us by Geydhi (I hope I spelled that correctly), Tom's right hand woman... to celebrate the anniversaries of some of my dearest friends. And I thought it to be a unique personal metaphor... this Marriage Celebration... it's not only the partners we choose that make it a marriage... it's also our relationships we choose to have with ourselves.
For that, too, is a sort of marriage. You're sort of committed to yourself for life.
The love I observed being displayed around the feasting table, whether through jokes, hugs, or head-locks... I was proud to be part of such a colorful and wierd group of people. Each with their own journey; their own story to be told; their own aches, pains and joys.
A collective group of beautifully crafted humans in every way.
And to that, I raised my glass.
Viva La Mexico.
Day 4: Melting Like Mayans
Tuesday, May... it doesn't matter anymore.
Honey slap on the SPF and break out the shade cuz we gonna check us out some history! The Tulum Ruins were only a short 10 minute drive away from our resort. Known as the only coastal ruin in existence for this particular region, it was a swelteringly beautiful tour. We couldn't get to the breezy coast fast enough! The ancient rocks beckoned of a once vibrant culture that knew how to survive in such a tropical setting without our cozy creature comforts.
Being a thrifty group, we didn't bother with paying for a guide. Instead, we just sort of nuzzled up against various groups who had in fact paid for a guide and listened until, well, we decided we didn't want to anymore. Others quickly retreated to shade. Some of us made up our own stories instead and chased iguanas. Either way, it was magical and not for the faint of heart in the May heat.
Honey slap on the SPF and break out the shade cuz we gonna check us out some history! The Tulum Ruins were only a short 10 minute drive away from our resort. Known as the only coastal ruin in existence for this particular region, it was a swelteringly beautiful tour. We couldn't get to the breezy coast fast enough! The ancient rocks beckoned of a once vibrant culture that knew how to survive in such a tropical setting without our cozy creature comforts. 
Being a thrifty group, we didn't bother with paying for a guide. Instead, we just sort of nuzzled up against various groups who had in fact paid for a guide and listened until, well, we decided we didn't want to anymore. Others quickly retreated to shade. Some of us made up our own stories instead and chased iguanas. Either way, it was magical and not for the faint of heart in the May heat. 
Tres... number Tres of viva-ing.
Monday, May 20...
I don't quite recall what we did. I know there was a lot of beach, sun, sand, puppies... maybe even rainbows and unicorns. This may have been the day that Jordan and Walter cooked us a feast. And even if it wasn't, I'm going to tell you about it anway.
We had a trough of the best guacamole this side of the equator, with fish tacos and pico de gallo and chips and cheese and...
Let's just say that the spread was colorful, beautful. It was rich with both color and flavor. We all gathered as one motley family around the table and consumed.
Heavily.
And while we were eating, we planned dinner for Wednesday. Gluttonous pigs!!
I don't quite recall what we did. I know there was a lot of beach, sun, sand, puppies... maybe even rainbows and unicorns. This may have been the day that Jordan and Walter cooked us a feast. And even if it wasn't, I'm going to tell you about it anway.
We had a trough of the best guacamole this side of the equator, with fish tacos and pico de gallo and chips and cheese and... Let's just say that the spread was colorful, beautful. It was rich with both color and flavor. We all gathered as one motley family around the table and consumed.
Heavily.
And while we were eating, we planned dinner for Wednesday. Gluttonous pigs!!
Viva La Mexico: Day Numero Dos
Sunday, May 19. I wake up to some of the most exotic sounds. Doves that sound like owls... Grackles that sound like... grackles. The breeze up against the palm trees that sound like a mix of heaven and one of those cds for relaxation. The beautifully manicured landscape of our surroundings care of Tom and his crew quickly bring me back to planet earth. Though it's hard. This is real?
With the tickling of the low hanging palm branches that brush my shoulder, I am quickly reminded that I am, indeed, awake. This is real. Hairbrush be damned, my butt goes directly to the sand and my eye balls wait intently for the sun to make its full appearance. The hammocks' gentle sway in my periphery ground me further into a deep mental state of relaxation and ease. Other early risers are walking the shore line from their own living spaces. Household pets join unassuming passerby's on their morning walks and stop to make new friends at their leisure. Time moves very slowly.
What feels like hours has only been minutes. I am joined by a friendly yellow pup who decides my company is worthy enough to lounge with. Wearing a collar that requests no feeding due to medical conditions, the pup is obviously loved and cared-for. And I quickly realize that personal space and community have a totally different unfolding here. It's as if there is an innate understanding that all people here are "good". Mi casa su casa.
I'm in love with this place.
Before long I am softly surrounded by the emergence of my group with faint smells of coffee, deep sighs and the gentle uprising of laughter. Let the day begin.
At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I must confess that even the major Mexican grocery store felt like a mecca of undiscovered treasures. With it's vast array of incredibly affordable produce, to it's selection of baked goods, cheeses and... need I say it? BEER... time still moved slow. I don't know exactly how we did it. But with the 14 of us who piled into the van, we managed to buy groceries for the week, pay for them accurately, stock pile in and around ourselves once returning to the van, and making it back to Casa del Corazon in minimal time. No stress. No duress. Just time.
I must be honest... I have very little recollection of what took place the remainder of that beautiful first full sloooowwww day. Beach. Sand. Snorkeling with magically-colored fish. Picking on a weathered guitar and making up lyrics to the blues.
Sipping on delicious beverages and making tan lines. Taking stabs at kayaking and getting comfortable with the sea-grass. Making less-than-desirable "stretch marks" from lazing in the hammocks with bare skin. Dancing in the moon-light and laughing at man-kini's.
I digress. There was only one man-kini.
Time didn't matter. Money didn't matter. Make-up and hair didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was being there... in the moment... surrounded by the goodness of friends and family. Surrounded by the reality that life really is good.
Oh, and that we can collectively make one hell of a mess.
Viva la Mexico.
With the tickling of the low hanging palm branches that brush my shoulder, I am quickly reminded that I am, indeed, awake. This is real. Hairbrush be damned, my butt goes directly to the sand and my eye balls wait intently for the sun to make its full appearance. The hammocks' gentle sway in my periphery ground me further into a deep mental state of relaxation and ease. Other early risers are walking the shore line from their own living spaces. Household pets join unassuming passerby's on their morning walks and stop to make new friends at their leisure. Time moves very slowly.
What feels like hours has only been minutes. I am joined by a friendly yellow pup who decides my company is worthy enough to lounge with. Wearing a collar that requests no feeding due to medical conditions, the pup is obviously loved and cared-for. And I quickly realize that personal space and community have a totally different unfolding here. It's as if there is an innate understanding that all people here are "good". Mi casa su casa.
I'm in love with this place.
Before long I am softly surrounded by the emergence of my group with faint smells of coffee, deep sighs and the gentle uprising of laughter. Let the day begin.
At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I must confess that even the major Mexican grocery store felt like a mecca of undiscovered treasures. With it's vast array of incredibly affordable produce, to it's selection of baked goods, cheeses and... need I say it? BEER... time still moved slow. I don't know exactly how we did it. But with the 14 of us who piled into the van, we managed to buy groceries for the week, pay for them accurately, stock pile in and around ourselves once returning to the van, and making it back to Casa del Corazon in minimal time. No stress. No duress. Just time.
I must be honest... I have very little recollection of what took place the remainder of that beautiful first full sloooowwww day. Beach. Sand. Snorkeling with magically-colored fish. Picking on a weathered guitar and making up lyrics to the blues.
I digress. There was only one man-kini.
Time didn't matter. Money didn't matter. Make-up and hair didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was being there... in the moment... surrounded by the goodness of friends and family. Surrounded by the reality that life really is good.
Oh, and that we can collectively make one hell of a mess.
Viva la Mexico.
Viva La Mexico: Day 1
Saturday, May 18: The Great Send Off
A year's worth of planning finally coming to fruition, and I'm in full "morning-person" mode. From home, to airport through the up-close and personal TSA, I'm so happy to be alive I can't stand it. Even the security officials are annoyed with my 6am smile. With little more than a back pack full of wrinkled and rolled up clothes, I'm ready for a week in Mayan paradise to explore not only the Yucatan but also my own inner need for some deep breathing. Even the lay over in Jersey felt amazing... and the airport food? I mean, just marvelous. Over-priced water never tasted so refreshing!
The soothing 3 hour flight to Cancun lulled me into a semi-dream like state. I dozed and sipped on a disgusting cup of airpline wine... but I didn't care. I was on my way to paradise! Disgusting or not, it was wine, it was mine and I was on a plane to vacate in the tropics.
And then we landed.
The moment our feet cross through the formidable customs of Mexico, we are surrounded by a spanish-speaking mafia wishing to wisk us away in their pricey caravans to this place and that. Time has suddenly sped up and I see lots of hispanic mania... need money? need taxi? Nope. Need an interpreter. Or just my rental van.
Before long, a group of 15 has dwindled to a group of four... and I find myself bargaining with the Mexican clerk in the National rental car office. Tempers have flaired amongst group members, while half have been safely shipped off to paradise in a chartered shuttle.
The smart ones.
Somehow I manage to maintain a level of calm and gentility, while also communicating that I want to clearly communicate and failing miserably to communicate clearly (say that five-times-fast). I ask the clerk 20 questions at the risk of annoyance, though my 6am smile has morphed into a slight furrow in the brow. Eventually, I convince his coworker to yell "More Beer!" with a country accent to make it all better. He did. The van magically appeared.
After learning how to drive a 15 passenger van around the Cancun airport for an hour, the remainder of our group are finally retreived with 3rd degree sun burns and dehydration. Four has become seven, and we quickly decide to keep with the theme of the day... BEER.
My, how culture can change one's perspective... for once we were the minorities lined up outside of a Mexican 711. Dos Esquis? Check! Smokes? Check! Savviness with pesos and/or currency exchange in USD? Haha. That's funny. Those clerks made bank on us new arrivals. We didn't even know what hit us until we piled back in the van. And doing some quick math realized that... we're not in Virginia anymore.
Oh well. BEER.
A sulky and quiet ride to our final destination reunited all 15 of us once again...
Casa del Corazon beach bungalows: Soliman Bay Mexico
... our home for next week.
Image with me, if you will, 7 grown people pouring out of a van like grade-school children at recess. It's a pretty accurate assessment. Complete with giggles, gasps and flying beer tops, we traipsed and skipped all the way to Tom... who stood there beaming as if he'd been waiting on the remainder of his children to come home. His beautiful staff greeted us warmly, not minding the stale smell of well-traveled bodies. If my memory serves me correctly, I believe we performed a jazz number in unison all the way to the shore line.
Let me not forget the scenery of enchanting bungalows encountered in the midst of our musical number. Spacious, open and ornate, each group member nestled in quickly to the inviting and spacious living quarters reflecting the saucy and colorful culture that is Soliman Bay. From the beautiful wooden windows that allowed the fresh Riveria breeze to breathe into each room, to the beautifully tiled counter-tops... I believe I actually hugged the sun for a second.
Catching my breath at the shore line, lazy hammocks begged to be of use while the kayaks patiently waited for exploration of the bay. The crystal blue water gave gentle applause for our arrival and seemed to whisper "Hey, I'll be here all week. No rush man."
Ok. I'll accept that. Let's eat!
Oscar y Lalo's was just a short dusty drive from the resort... authentic Mexican dining with Lala the spider monkey. I enjoyed fresh mango margaritas with tortilla's, pico de gallo, queso and vast quantities of bug spray. The mosquitos enjoyed vast quantities of my ankles.
Need a break from your dining experience? No problem. Just pull your chair aside and lay in the hammock next to the table... take a siesta before the next round of shots. Or play with Lala, she'll give you kisses on your belly. In my case, she'll kiss your belly, sit on your face with her gnarly little diapered monkey butt and shove her salty ass toe in your mouth.
Next time, I'll laugh with my mouth closed.
With full bellies back at ocean-side, one by one the gentle breeze and swinging of the hammocks lulled us to our new homes for a night's slumber. My final thought? We've only just begun...
Viva La Mexico.
A year's worth of planning finally coming to fruition, and I'm in full "morning-person" mode. From home, to airport through the up-close and personal TSA, I'm so happy to be alive I can't stand it. Even the security officials are annoyed with my 6am smile. With little more than a back pack full of wrinkled and rolled up clothes, I'm ready for a week in Mayan paradise to explore not only the Yucatan but also my own inner need for some deep breathing. Even the lay over in Jersey felt amazing... and the airport food? I mean, just marvelous. Over-priced water never tasted so refreshing!
The soothing 3 hour flight to Cancun lulled me into a semi-dream like state. I dozed and sipped on a disgusting cup of airpline wine... but I didn't care. I was on my way to paradise! Disgusting or not, it was wine, it was mine and I was on a plane to vacate in the tropics.
And then we landed.
The moment our feet cross through the formidable customs of Mexico, we are surrounded by a spanish-speaking mafia wishing to wisk us away in their pricey caravans to this place and that. Time has suddenly sped up and I see lots of hispanic mania... need money? need taxi? Nope. Need an interpreter. Or just my rental van.
Before long, a group of 15 has dwindled to a group of four... and I find myself bargaining with the Mexican clerk in the National rental car office. Tempers have flaired amongst group members, while half have been safely shipped off to paradise in a chartered shuttle.
The smart ones.
Somehow I manage to maintain a level of calm and gentility, while also communicating that I want to clearly communicate and failing miserably to communicate clearly (say that five-times-fast). I ask the clerk 20 questions at the risk of annoyance, though my 6am smile has morphed into a slight furrow in the brow. Eventually, I convince his coworker to yell "More Beer!" with a country accent to make it all better. He did. The van magically appeared.
After learning how to drive a 15 passenger van around the Cancun airport for an hour, the remainder of our group are finally retreived with 3rd degree sun burns and dehydration. Four has become seven, and we quickly decide to keep with the theme of the day... BEER.
My, how culture can change one's perspective... for once we were the minorities lined up outside of a Mexican 711. Dos Esquis? Check! Smokes? Check! Savviness with pesos and/or currency exchange in USD? Haha. That's funny. Those clerks made bank on us new arrivals. We didn't even know what hit us until we piled back in the van. And doing some quick math realized that... we're not in Virginia anymore.
Oh well. BEER.
A sulky and quiet ride to our final destination reunited all 15 of us once again...
Casa del Corazon beach bungalows: Soliman Bay Mexico
... our home for next week.
Image with me, if you will, 7 grown people pouring out of a van like grade-school children at recess. It's a pretty accurate assessment. Complete with giggles, gasps and flying beer tops, we traipsed and skipped all the way to Tom... who stood there beaming as if he'd been waiting on the remainder of his children to come home. His beautiful staff greeted us warmly, not minding the stale smell of well-traveled bodies. If my memory serves me correctly, I believe we performed a jazz number in unison all the way to the shore line.
Let me not forget the scenery of enchanting bungalows encountered in the midst of our musical number. Spacious, open and ornate, each group member nestled in quickly to the inviting and spacious living quarters reflecting the saucy and colorful culture that is Soliman Bay. From the beautiful wooden windows that allowed the fresh Riveria breeze to breathe into each room, to the beautifully tiled counter-tops... I believe I actually hugged the sun for a second.
Catching my breath at the shore line, lazy hammocks begged to be of use while the kayaks patiently waited for exploration of the bay. The crystal blue water gave gentle applause for our arrival and seemed to whisper "Hey, I'll be here all week. No rush man."
Ok. I'll accept that. Let's eat!
Oscar y Lalo's was just a short dusty drive from the resort... authentic Mexican dining with Lala the spider monkey. I enjoyed fresh mango margaritas with tortilla's, pico de gallo, queso and vast quantities of bug spray. The mosquitos enjoyed vast quantities of my ankles. Need a break from your dining experience? No problem. Just pull your chair aside and lay in the hammock next to the table... take a siesta before the next round of shots. Or play with Lala, she'll give you kisses on your belly. In my case, she'll kiss your belly, sit on your face with her gnarly little diapered monkey butt and shove her salty ass toe in your mouth.
Next time, I'll laugh with my mouth closed.
With full bellies back at ocean-side, one by one the gentle breeze and swinging of the hammocks lulled us to our new homes for a night's slumber. My final thought? We've only just begun...
Viva La Mexico.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)