Spent a sleepless, long weekend in Isla Mujeres, Mexico this past weekend. The reason? A bachelor party. I'm too old for that stuff. I vow to never again be the oldest person on a trip like this. The chaos. Can't divulge much more. My lips are sealed. I can say that one could vacation on Isla Mujeres and have a quiet, laid back, indolent respite. Lounging on the beach, eating tacos al pastor and heaping piles of fresh fish on homemade tortillas with wonderful fresh salsas and the best ceviche I've ever tasted. Your plate would resemble this:
Mmmmm, that was good. Speared just a few hours before. And yes all washed down with many bottles of golden cervezas. Stayed away from the tequila. I watched it and Montezuma team up to crush one member of our party.
Ahh, the sunrise over the Mexican Caribbean. It looks so benign and welcoming doesn't it? Well that sun lashed us all like a pack of scurvy, mutinous deck hands later that day. And, at my age there is no excuse to not properly administer and maintain a total body coating of sunscreen. Alas, this I failed to do. My skin was seared into streaks and swirls but really only painful from the bottom of my calf down to my ankle. A critical place to apply sunscreen if one is to snorkel for four hours-the shallow reef water lapping over you, soothing your irradiated skin. Only later when flames lick your achilles tendon do you realize your mistake and feel as if you drifted into fire coral.
The photos above was taken from the Rocamar Hotel. I don't recommend it. It looks like a huge, soviet concrete boomerang perched on the seawall. The hotel was not bad but for the same price one could stay here:
Casa el Pio which I heartily recommend. A soothing, quiet, shady place. I shan't say more except go to this place and relax and be slothful. I did spend two nights here and I shuddered when it came time to leave each day and rejoin the bachelor party fray.
I was glad to go to Isla Mujeres and I was glad to go home. My chances for sleep are greater at home with two infants and the garden to take care of than the pack of maniacs I was with. I returned to find Athens a little dry, much cooler than I expected. The groundhogs paid my veggie garden a visit and wiped it clean. The wages of sin, perhaps? The oak leaf hydrangeas are blooming and I'm back where I understand what the sun is going to do to me.
It is good to be home. Cheers.