It’s lettuce and water and broccoli/flax smoothies for the next few days as I try to undo the damage wrought by hanging out in Mexico with unlimited access to guacamole and tortilla products for four days. Oh, it was delightful.
We left Friday morning at 0:dark:thirty and were soon settled in our seats with the customary death grip on the arm rests though this time I was a little calmer since I figured my recent brush with death when landing in Oklahoma City probably meant that I’d met my yearly quota for airplane malfunctions. That, and it was too early for Starbucks at the airport and I didn’t have enough energy for drama.
We had smooth connections through Atlanta (didn’t see anyone famous this time. We ran into James Brown at 4:30 in the morning on our way back from our honeymoon and ever since then I feel disappointed if we don’t have a celebrity sighting) and landed in Cancun by 10:30 in the morning. After running the gauntlet of taxi drivers and tour operators, we found our shuttle and within 20 minutes arrived at our hotel.
We stayed at Le Blanc Spa and Resort, an all-inclusive property located in the Hotel Zone of Cancun. I knew we’d be in for a treat when they greeted us with chilled scented towels at the door and heated neck pads for relaxation while we registered for our stay.
Since our flight arrived so early, our room wasn’t quite ready so we went out and lounged by the pool for an hour or so and ate an early lunch beachside while we waited.
The view wasn’t shabby.
After gaining access to our room, we changed into swimsuits and stayed poolside for most of the afternoon until the wind chased us off. I’m all for exfoliation but getting sandblasted was a bit much. Besides, I didn’t want to oversun on the first day and wind up charred like Craig did last year in St. Lucia so discretion was the better part of valor and we left and explored the property, booked massages at the spa, and actually exercised in the gym for about 45 minutes so that we could justify eating whatever we wanted for the next few days.
Saturday morning was a carbon copy of Friday afternoon and by noon we decided to head into town to do some shopping (Craig has ADD when it comes to sitting on the beach and can only hang out there for so long before he’s ready to get moving). We were going to catch a taxi downtown but our waiter shook his head and told us we’d get ripped off by doing that and suggested we grab a bus instead. There was a bus stop less than a block away from our hotel and for $1 it took us to the craft market about 20 minutes away.
We bought a few souvenirs for the family and I had to give myself a stern talking to avoid buying all the Talavera pottery they had on display and after wandering around for a while, we wound up at a little comedor/eating spot in the market where we had some street food and enjoyed the sunshine and the marimba music in the background.
I ordered some tostadas for the table and violated my mother’s cardinal rule about not eating lettuce in third world countries. Just to be on the safe side and to kill whatever bugs might still be hiding in the produce, I added a copious amount of what I thought was pickled onions and carrots to the tostada and munched with abandon.
Turns out it was sliced habaneros and cabbage salsa.
Also turns out it was very hot.
We and my fiery gullet made it back to the hotel after taking our lives in our hands jaywalking across the main boulevard to get to the bus stop (crosswalks don’t really exist – step lively, my friends) and then changed and got ready for our team dinner that evening.
I did not take my camera to the event because it was a bit fancy and I didn’t want to be whipping out my phone to take pictures of every course but lemme just tell you I was regretting that decision when the escargots showed up.
FOUR OF THEM.
Just looking up at me.
I once tried to eat escargots and it did not go well. Many years ago we were on a cruise with Craig’s family and the waiter served them to us as an appetizer and I thought, “Why not?” and the minute I put them in my mouth and tried to take the first bite, my brain yelled “WHY??????” and I literally could not make myself chew and I wound up daintily spitting it out in my napkin and hiding it in my lap for the rest of the meal.
With that failed attempt in my mind, I thought about refusing the plate but then I dug deep and said, “Susan, you just ate street food in Mexico. You can do this.” and so I smiled and put one in my mouth and chewed and, amazingly, did not throw up.
Let’s call that personal growth.
And try to avoid doing it again.
After dinner we all went dancing and by dancing I mean they all danced and I did my best imitation of an epileptic hippo but we had a good time and it was fun to boogie in pretty clothes and high heels even though my knees were killing me the next day because I am not 22 anymore.
The weather was beautiful on Sunday and we spent all day out on the beach. I read a novel and flipped and flopped in thirty minute intervals and we chatted with the lifeguard and watched him dramatically rescue a woman who was getting pulled out by the undertow (the currents were wicked fierce while we were there). The men played volleyball and there were a few rounds of Giant Jenga which became surprisingly competitive as the afternoon wore on.
And then all too soon it was Monday and we were packing up to return home. We tried to catch a few more hours of sun in the morning but it was so breezy and cloudy that I spent most of the time huddled under the beach towel. It was a sad moment when they cut off the resort bracelet and we piled in the shuttle, leaving the beautiful sand and sun behind. The happy memories
and the extra pounds came with us, though, and I’m already looking forward to going back next year and making some more.
Have a nice day.