I’m positive

Today I’m making a choice. Well, right now I’m making a choice. I can’t say what will happen later. But for now, I’m making a choice to see the positive. Notice the positive. Find the positive. Be positive. Here’s what I’ve seen so far.

·        It only took me three snoozes to wake up.

·        The coffee didn’t spill, despite me knocking the mug when I got in the car.

·        My commute was only 54 minutes.

·        I put the perfect amount of water in my oatmeal cup.

·        When I sat down, the long belt of my dress didn’t fall in the toilet.

·        I remembered to bring my lunch.

I’ll see what the rest of the day brings, but so far, I’m at least positive that I’m off to a good start. #makingupgoodkarma #newoutlook #findthegood

Now it's just for laundry.

He loved me. Of course he loved everyone in the family to different degrees, in different ways, and for different reasons. But I was his person. He loved me unconditionally. I didn't know what that meant, really, until he was gone. Oh, sure, I knew the dictionary definition:

I hate it when definitions contain the word you're trying to define. So, what's a 'condition'?

So, unconditional means not limited by prerequisites or contingencies. Without requirements.

Life-hack - When it comes to love, unconditional means that the one dispensing the love doesn't want anything in return from the one receiving the love. They give it freely, without reservation, without restriction, without expectation. Always. Without fail.

Do we? Do we love unconditionally? Do we give our love freely, without reservation, restriction or expectation? Without wanting something in return? Maybe. Some people might get that from us. Some people might give that to us. I think it's rare among human companions. I'm not entirely sure we're giving it to those who we think we are. That might require a few therapy sessions to analyze.

Unconditional love is rarer still among feline companions. Cats are jerks, after all.

Horses are questionable. You think you have theirs, and give them yours, but then they try to kill you.

But, dogs? They know how to do it. Cooper knew how to do it. 

My conscious day started before I even got out of bed, and my first thoughts invariably involved him. What time is it? Is anyone else up yet? Had anyone let Cooper out yet? How long had he been in his room? If I was alone in bed, many of those questions were answered. Dave would have taken care of him. If I was not, my ears instinctively tuned in to the sound of the PlayStation, dishes clanking, stockinged feet padding, the shrill yet nearly indiscernible whine of a little body plopped lifelessly outside my door hopeful with anticipation of my impending arrival. If there was no sound, the realization instilled a sense of urgency. His bladder was only so big, you know.

I tried to be quiet as I got up, found fuzzy socks, used the restroom, and put my hair in a clip so as not to rile him up and create a crying barking foot-stomping frenzy that would, in turn, wake up Brian who slept (hopefully soundly) on the other side of the wall from 'Cooper's room.'

Once I made my way out the bedroom door, the excitement was palpable. His energy flowed out of him like a raging current. So much so that his body bounced up and down, perhaps involuntarily, definitely joyfully, until I reached 'the gate'. His smile beamed like something from a Trident commercial. Yes. Dogs smile. With one swift and practiced movement, I released the locked arm of the gate and swung it to the side, making room for his speedy egress. But he only went about eight feet. He would sit patiently at the line between the carpet of the family room and the wood of the kitchen for the five interminable seconds it took me to do so before turning around, when he would bolt directly to the back door, sometimes barking, always eager. 

The trip down the deck stairs to the yard varied based on the year, season, time of day, energy level, and amount of time he'd been cooped up (no pun intended). He did not, as a rule, stay out any longer than absolutely necessary, unless of course I was out there, too. Where I was, he was, or at least wanted to be. The trip up the deck stairs was markedly faster, with a streamlined stance similar to a racehorse. He took them in three strides. Reunited, we went inside to see about wrangling up some breakfast. 

For the past year or so, Cooper had been taking medication for his heart - a murmur that had been identified a few years ago as a grade 3 (out of 6 and defined as a moderately intense murmur, that is readily detected and detected over more than one location) but had been upgraded to a grade 5 (a very loud murmur accompanied by a precordial thrill and the murmur is detected when the stethoscope is pulled slightly off the chest wall) on June 26, 2017. I cleverly disguised said medicine, pimobendan and enalapril - one inch-wide wafer that was broken into four pieces, and one tiny pill - in lunchmeat. He'd recently become wise to the trick, so I'd switched to Kraft singles. This was followed by one of a variety of dog foods of the meat variety. His brand du mois was Cesar, you know the one with the cute little white dog on the front? Mom liked the convenient single-served containers. However, he'd taken to only wanting half of it lately. As a result, at the same vet check up on June 26 at which his murmur was upgraded, his weight had notably decreased. By four pounds. Four. He only weighed 14. Well, now 10. We were so proud of his non-effort to get his body in shape. 

After breakfast, he either followed me around as I got ready for work, followed me around as I started my weekend chores, or followed me outside to sit in the sunshine on the deck, grow hot, pant a while, move to the shade, then move back to the sun. Sometimes he accepted my offer for a lap. Sometimes he accepted my offer for a chair of his own. Sometimes he wagged his tail as he wandered off to the sun or under a chair. If I went inside, he went inside. If I went to the bedroom, he went to the bedroom. Yes, he even followed me into the restroom. I know. Don't judge. On the rare occasion when he didn't have the energy to actually follow me, physically, he followed me with his gaze. In fact, his eyes were rarely focused on anything else. 

He wasn't a snuggler. Except with me, and sometimes Brian. He would grumble if anyone got too close for too long or kissed him too many times, and would run if anyone, including me, tried to pick him up. But he loved to sit on my lap and next to Brian. And occasionally next to Sarah. And once next to Dave. As he got older, his hot flashes would require him to move off of the warm lap and onto the cool leather of the sofa, or his arthritis would cause him to need to stretch out on the floor, or the backrest of the couch, or another piece of furniture all together.

He wasn't a heavy sleeper. We always joked that he slept with one eye open. Maybe he didn't want to miss anything. I think he didn't want me to leave without him knowing, or come back in the room without him giving me a proper welcome.

He wasn't particularly playful. Occasionally, he would chase a tiny tennis ball and bring it back to you after making it squeak a few times. Sometimes he would play bow. But always, it ended with a lot of barking and, later, coughing, which we could only take (or make him suffer through) for so long.

If I left the house, like actually left to go to work or run an errand, and he had to stay behind, he would sit by the back door, by my bedroom door, or on a pair of my shoes and wait for my return. However long it took. The family said he lost his will to live when he was without me. Upon my return, the crying barking foot-stomping frenzy commenced. The raging energy current and beaming smile returned. His commitment to life was renewed.

At the end of the day, he would respond to the click of the TV being shut off, the coffee pot being set up for the next morning, or me bringing my water jug out to the kitchen to refill by standing patiently by the back door and making a final trek down the stairs, and then returning and heading straight into his room. Since he was a puppy, and for his two brothers as well, the laundry room of whatever house we were living in was their room. We likened it to a large kennel, and 'closed' it with a baby gate across the doorway. A simple, get in your bed was all he needed if the aforementioned hints hadn't been noticed. His clicky little nails tick-ticked across the hardwood floor and he either climbed directly into his orthopedic memory-foam bed, which was covered with a Minky Couture blanket that he'd stolen from Brian, or sat on the cool tile next to the vent just inside the door. If coaxed, he would wander back to the doorway for a final pet or scratch or kiss. If this nightly ritual wasn't followed - say, if I went to bed while he was outside, or I didn't say goodnight before I turned in - he ran around looking for me, and then resumed his sulking, no-will-to-live stance.

Given the chance for an extraordinary activity, we went for car rides, got puppuccino at Starbucks, took the occasional walk, and even had a few play dates with doggy friends.

But none of that mattered. He still loved me more. Than lunchmeat or puppuccinos. Than play dates or walks. Without reservation, restriction or expectation, except that I stick around. That was my only expectation of him, too. And he did. For 12 years.

My sweet Cooper passed away on July 23, 2017 after suffering a stroke from which the vet assured us he could not recover. His heart was very enlarged, one atrium in particular, which looked on the x-ray as if it were about to pop. It was taking up much of his chest cavity, impeding his ability to breathe effectively. They gave him oxygen and Valium. And then we gave him peace. 

He was with us until the end, allowing us rare and cherished snuggles, kisses, and hugs, and wagging his tail when each one of us spoke to him. I held him as he left us, which I hope provided him with some comfort and relieved him of some stress. It was quiet and peaceful - well, except for the inconsolable sobbing - and we feel like we made the right, albeit heart-wrenching choice. 

For him. 

Because he loved us, and we all loved him. 

Unconditionally.

Now there's no reason to get up. No reason to go home. Nothing waiting. His room is empty. But his things are still there. I've been doing a lot of laying around with his blanket. We still call out when we get home, before catching the words mid-throat, as they collide with the memory that he's not here anymore. The loss of all three of our dogs is now being felt in its full measure. The house is quiet. Too quiet. I don't like it anymore.

This weekend, we'll put away his bed, pack up his treats and food to donate, and take his leftover medicine to the hospital for disposal. And his room will be emptier still. Now it's just for laundry.

Rest peacefully, dragonfly. We will miss you forever.

Turn on the sound.

Viva México!

We went to Mexico.

It was a long-anticipated but not very long-planned trip with our kiddos. One last splurge before they flew the nest, something we anticipate is coming sooner rather than later. So, we talked about it for a while - three years or so - and took about a month to make the plan. And then we were off!

We left early on May 11, flying directly from Salt Lake City to Cancun. Having set up our entire trip through Expedia, our transportation from the airport to the hotel was prearranged, and thank God. I don't know if you've ever been to an airport in Mexico, but the locals soliciting a buck are relentless and, frankly, kind of scary. Offers to take your bag as they grab hold of your suitcase handle, give you a ride as they shuffle you toward their waiting cab, book an excursion as they wave brochures in your face, are coming at you from every direction. So, knowing what color shirt to look for and where your shuttle company's representatives stand, and having someone who knows you by name are all helpful and reassuring.

The Fiesta Americana Condessa was about 20 minutes from the airport, located on the southeastern tip of the Yucatan Peninsula, within but on the outskirts of the famed Hotel Zone. According to TravelYucatan.com, “The hotel zone is an island shaped like a 7. It is joined to the mainland on the southern tip by the Punta Nizuc Bridge and the Playa Linda Bridge at the northern end. This 22 km strip of sandy beach is bisected by a long main street named Kukulcan Boulevard. On the north and south side of the island is the Caribbean Sea while an enormous lagoon named Laguna Nichupte is formed by the inside of the “7” on the islands southwest side.” 

PS. Laguna Nichupte is chock full of man-eating crocodiles and there are signs all along Kukulcan Blvd warning of such. 

PC: M. Ciavardini

PC: gringationcancun.com

Sadly, there are still those who think it "is joke" and go ahead and dive in or stand too close to shore. Like the guy from Texas who decided to pee in the lagoon, only to suffer bite wounds in his neck and leg and a head injury when the crock knocked him down. (Guess the crocodile wasn't named Lorena.) Or the one who got too hot fishing on his boat and jumped in for a little cool off. He got a nasty bite to the head. Or the drunk buy who was followed into the water by a 7-footer who'd been chillin' in the jungle just off the shore, only to be dragged out to sea. or lack of a better word, it was stunning.

Is Not Joke

We didn't go anywhere near the lagoon. Crocodile attacks weren't something we included in our itinerary. 

All of the 'freeways' were lined with thick, dense trees, and had a center island with occasional breaks for u-turns. The entrances were to go one direction only so, if you wanted to go south, you would have to enter the freeway going north and then wait for a break in the island to make a u-turn, which could be five or more km down the road. It was all very driver-friendly and conducive to very little traffic. That was all contained in the touristy towns and the heart of the hotel zone. 

For lack of a better word, it was stunning.

Valets brought our bags to the front desk, clerks gave us wristbands to indicate our alcohol-worthy ages, a lobby host offered tiny bottles of Corona or icy-cold water. Our bags would arrive in our rooms shortly (the kids were pleasantly surprised to learn we weren't sharing a room with them - uh, no). "Are they close together?" I asked the desk clerk. After taking a quick glance at the numbers, he said, in a thick Mexican accent and with a small shrug and sly grin, "Jes, pretty close." And, with that, we headed up to the sixth floor to find rooms 637 and 638. They were next door to each other. 
Ha. Funny guy.

The rooms were cool, clean, and tastefully decorated, but the breathtaking view off our room's 2-seater balcony stole all the thunder. Our room faced the less-desired but equally-awe inspiring lagoon side, and I don’t know that I would have had it any other way. We faced west, so the sunsets were incredible, and the early morning sunshine didn’t make its way into our windows until much later, allowing us to sleep in at our leisure. Which we did. Regularly.

Once we were settled in our rooms, we went on a walkabout to discover everything that Fiesta Americana Condesa Cancun had to offer. Turned out to be a lot. We ended up at El Mexicano, a great Mexican (duh) restaurant where Brian (didn't) enjoyed his 'first' alcoholic drink ~ a rum and Coke. Based on his expression, I think it really was his first! We also had  a visit from a tequila cart, from which we got to taste a wide variety of local and imported tequilas and found a few that we really liked.

El Mexicano

The beach side

The center of the hotel, open-air, with lagoon-view rooms to the right

This stream ran the length of the open-air center

Our first full day, Friday, started out with sleeping in until around 9:30, which wasn’t really sleeping in if you think about it, since it was only 8:30 a.m. our time. What? Then heading to the buffet for breakfast. Living up to what we were coming to recognize as the Condessa-standard, the buffet was plentiful, well laid out, fresh, and delicious. And included! Did I mention it was an all-inclusive resort? I’m talking, ALL-INCLUSIVE. Food, drinks, food, on-site activities, food. There were a few self-pay things, the gift shop and spa, of course, Bali Beds (read on), of course, and we were responsible for covering our own excursion expenses, of course, and everyone loves a tip, of course!  Otherwise, anything we wanted was at our beck and call.

Did I mention the food?

We had rented a cabana for the day, which we later learned was called a Bali Bed, located between the pool and beach and, conveniently, next door to a restaurant and several bars. Naturally, that is where we spent the rest of our day. Our rental ($63 US for the day) was probably the best money we spent the whole trip. It included the use of the beautiful cabana, sorry, Bali Bed, which was basically a gigantic, raised bed with a slat-wood cover and fabric mesh "walls" that provided very welcomed shade after heating up in the blazing Mexican sun. We also had a dedicated server (Jasmine) who granted our every whim all day, brought us a lovely grilled seafood lunch that included lobster, whitefish, shrimp, and tuna served with vegetables, rice with fried plantains, and a bottle of champagne, and made appointments for 15-minute foot massages for Sarah and me. All included. 63 bucks. Seriously. It was Heaven. Notice the capital H? So, we basically wandered from pool to bed to beach to bar to bed to pool to bar to beach, with the occasional request to Jasmine for chips and salsa (and the most amazing guacamole we’ve ever had; Brian even loved it. Yes, you read that correctly.), or fries with nacho cheese and bacon (truly American), or freshly grilled wings, and so on and so on. Gluttons, I tell you.

The elusive Dave in his classic pose

Mmmmmmmmmassages!!!!!

Rock it! Can teach your children not to body-shame if you do it yourself, right?

After baking all day, we returned to our lovely rooms and had showers and naps, and then went down to a delicious Italian-themed restaurant, Rosato, for dinner. It turned out to be our favorite. Delicious, and free! All-inclusive is the only way to go. Did I mention the food?

As we rounded out our evening, we looked forward to the following day, which would bring Chichen Itza, the Ik Kil cenote, Ek Balam ruins, and Valladolid  (buy-ah-doh-leed).

Saturday, May 13, was Brian’s 20^th Birthday!! We celebrated by taking the excursion of his choice, seeing the Mayan ruins. We reserved a private tour, so it was very customized and we didn’t have to wait for fat tourists in mumus and floppy hats to finish eating their Churros before the bus could depart from one spot and head to the next. Since we had our very own tour guide, we hoped it would be a fact-filled tour of ancient Mayan and Mexican history, environment, and culture. We had no idea.

Our van picked us up at 6:30 a.m. (gross) and it was a 12-hour day with two hours on each end just getting us to and from the area where our tour took place. Our guide's name was Juan, and the driver of the van was Ramon (Ray). They were the perfect hosts, perfect guides, and perfect company. We really couldn't have asked for a better, more customized experience. Obviously, our first ‘custom’ stop was Starbucks. Tee hee. By leaving so early, we missed all of the crowds at each location, arriving to have each place nearly to ourselves, and leaving just as the tour buses arrived. Apparently they were following us. :) We learned that Juan was Mayan by birth, and that he had not only grown up on what would become the tourist site of Chichén Itzá, but still had his entire family, including wife and 7 children living in jungle huts in the true Mayan tradition. He explained that, since he had desired and thus achieved an American-style education, he had ostracized himself from his family somewhat, who didn’t understand why he would want anything other than the hunter-gatherer lifestyle that was Mayan. However, issues like childhood pregnancy, illiteracy, and global awareness were close to his heart, and he hoped to bring knowledge and opportunity to his children and the generations to come. So, he became a professor at a local university, teaching Mayan history. He is able to simultaneously keep Mayan tradition alive and bring awareness of possibilities. In addition, he visits Mayan villages to bring birth control to both the boys and the girls and explaining that they didn’t need to begin pumping out babies at age 12, along with solar panels to show how the sun had even more power than they believed, and simple games and toys to keep the little ones children a long as possible. Juan was an inspiration.

Our first official stop was Chichén Itzá, the 5-square kilometer site that we learned was estimated to have been built between 750 and 900 AD. However, it was not fully-excavated until the early 1900s when it was purchased by an American, who left his family, career, and home to spend the next 30 years digging out the ruins of the ancient Mayan culture and painstakingly putting the pieces together like a puzzle. As a result the entire site is a recreation using the original stones. Once it was pieced back together, archaeologists and historians realized that the structures were a combination of Aztec, Mayan, and Olmec architecture. After research, it was determined that the Mayans, a peaceful and religious people, the Aztecs, who were warriors, and the Olmec, who historians know much less about because of the lack of a written history, combined their efforts and built the structures with collective symbols of all three group. As a result, the buildings are a unique mix of the ornamental, architectural style of the Aztecs, the mathematically perfect design of the Mayan, and the sculptures and carvings of the Olmec. Unfortunately, when battle invariably arrived, the ‘winning’ culture, the Mayans, destroyed their own city as they fought their enemies. It sat in ruins for thousands of years until the American, Edward Thompson, purchased it. Although it is now owned by the Mexican government and despite two more recent excavations in the 1960s, most of the city remains in ruins, encapsulated by jungle, and unknown to modern humans. What is now the tourist destination, contains the main temple, Kukulkan, a step pyramid that stands 98’ high with a 180’ square base. The temple is hollow and, during excavation, a second temple was discovered buried below the first. Another is the Great Ball Court, one of 13 ball-playing courts found on the site. It is approximately 550 by 230 feet. Our guide explained that over 100 games were played during each year for entertainment, and 3 for settling of ‘business’, when an enemy would be invited to the village to settle a score of some sort by playing each other in a game of sport. At each end of the court was a temple, one wide and extravagant for the guest, and another smaller and simple for the king and queen of the village. Unbeknownst to the guest, the width and openness of their seating area made them more vulnerable to attack, while the small, relatively well-protected temple of the home team's leaders was safer and less likely to result in the killing of its occupants. There is also a cemetery of sorts on the site. Loosely translated as ‘skull rack’, the tzompantli was a place for displaying the heads of war captives, losing ball players, and human sacrifices. In fact, some of the ‘artwork’ inside the ball court depicted players being decapitated. Definitely a barbaric time in human history! The final building of note on our tour of Chichén Itzá was the Temple of Warriors, which was described as the Mayan equivalent of West Point. It was flanked by 1,000 stone columns on three sides, which represented the soldiers. Some are still standing. We felt very lucky that Juan was our guide, was Mayan, and had such a unique perspective and deep passion for the area, its history, and the preservation of the culture.

Kukulkan

Temple of Warriors

Tzompantli

Next, we headed to Cenote Ik kil, which sits within the Chichén Itzá boundaries. A cenote is a natural pit formed when limestone collapses and exposes the groundwater, and many Mayan cities were built near them for the easy source of fresh water. This one is 85 feet below ground and 60 feet in diameter. The water inside is estimated to be 140 feet deep. We climbed down a damp and dripping stairway carved out of the stone and swam in the water, which is inhabited by tiny black catfish. These freaked Sarah out, and she took a few minutes to determine they weren’t going to eat her alive. The braver one, Brian, jumped into the water from a stone platform that sat about 12 feet above the water's surface, which he loved. Lifeguard that he is, he reasoned that it wasn’t any higher than the high-dive at the local rec center, but mom’s protective heart reasoned otherwise. Needless to say, he surfaced unscathed and smiling from ear to ear.  The trek back up the stairway was much slower, and my knees made it loud and clear that they were not happy with me. My patient and faithful boy, took it in stride, literally, and bounded up the steps with ease but at his mama’s snails pace. A quick shower, a fresh-fruit popsicle, and dry clothes later, and we were back in our van, greeted by Ray with a tray of ice-cold waters – which we exchanged for the popsicles we’d bought for him and Juan.

The Stairs that Killed Me

Then, we went to lunch at a great Mexican buffet in a neighboring town. I can’t remember the name of it and couldn’t find it online, but rest assured, It Was Amazing. Tortillas made as you waited and filled with pulled pork, along with many other traditional Yucutan and ‘International’ (including American) choices, Spanish dancers balancing trays of Coronas on their heads, strong and creamy Pina Coladas, and delightful service. Juan wouldn’t let us buy his beer. We determined later that he’d only paid two pesos as a local, while we paid ninety pesos for ours. Capitalism and tourism at its best.

After lunch, we drove a short distance to a Yucatan town called Valladolid, which is similar in appearance to Havana, Cuba, with brightly-colored store fronts, a central park square, and streets crowded with merchant booths selling handmade and traditional wares. We wandered down a few streets, got very hot and sweaty, tried unsuccessfully to find a free restroom and eventually paid a dollar to use one in a store, bought some Tums to help digest the lunch, and then headed back to our van, which was parked and patiently waiting for us.. Of course, Ray had cold waters waiting as well.

Just a horse trailer. That's all.

After Valladolid, we drove about 40 minutes to another, much older but much more recently excavated, and fully-Mayan, ruin called Ek Balam, which dates back to 700 BC. This site was only 40% reconstruction, and is roughly 27 acres surrounded by two concentric stone walls for protection, yet it contains 45 different structures in various states of deterioration and reconstruction. We toured several of them. One difference between Chichén Itzá and Ek Balam is that, at the later, you can still go in and climb on the various buildings. That opportunity unfortunately ended at the former in the near past due to vandalism. The kids and Juan climbed the Acropolis steps, all one hundred-ten of them, climbing nearly a hundred feet in the air. This building houses the tomb of one of the Kings of Ek Balam, Ukit Kan Le'k Tok'. Say that ten times fast. There is also a ball court, an entrance arch, and a steam bath. During the short 15 years that Ek Balam has been unearthed, only the innermost parts of the site have been fully-excavated and it is surrounded by jungle, rather than amid an open grass field like at Chichén Itzá. As a result, it felt much more ancient and sacred. Unfortunately, the Mexican government has eliminated all archaeological funding and, as a result, the site sits half-buried until a wealthy philanthropist (or opportunist) decides it’s worth the time, money, energy, and manpower to complete its excavation. On our way out, we were treated to the company of a wild turkey, his hen, and their baby, which looked as if he had been plucked. They gobbled and cackled just like on a cartoon, and he fanned his tail feathers out to try and scare us off. It was really funny and we were so glad we saw them!

After Ek Balam, in addition to our cold water, there were yummy snacks (Mexican versions of Oreos, Nutter Butters, Doritos, and Cheetos, along with varieties of juices) to tide us over for the 2-hour drive back to the hotel. We all slept, many stretched out on bench seats, Brian curled up on one out of sheer necessity. We enjoyed the seafood-themed buffet for dinner as it was open latest and didn’t require us to look cute. Brian discovered a new love for sucking the meat out of shrimp heads (gross). But, it was his birthday dinner, so we didn’t protest. Ha! Since Sarah is such a fan of seafood – NOT! – she had her wish granted for penne carbonara, with a smile from a cute young server. After all, how could he resist that face??

We tried to stick to a busy/not busy/busy schedule, and it was working out pretty well. After having spent Friday at the resort and Saturday doing our Mayan ruin excursion, Sunday was a delightful mix of sun, pool, beach, food, drinks, and more of the same! Dave and I started our day on the balcony of or room with room service breakfast and coffee, then headed down to find some great lounge chairs by the pool in shade created by a slatted, wooden canopy of sorts, and more lounge chairs directly in front of us beside the pool that were in sun, which appealed to both my sun-worshiping soul, and his shade-loving spirit. We simply moved from one to the other and back to oscillate between wet, dry, warm, cool, or whatever our mood required. We had Jasmine again, the same waitress that helped us in our Bali Bed (did that sound weird?), so it was fun to see her again. She recognized us and asked all about our trip to Chichén Itzá, seeming to be genuinely interested in our activities and perceptions. Dave, smarty-pants that he is, packed a couple of inflatable rafts for us to blow up once we got to the resort, so he and Sarah had fun (trying to) get on one of them in the pool, looking much like baby elephants in wading pools.

Otherwise, there was really nothing better than just relaxing by the pool. Except relaxing IN the pool. And relaxing at the pool bar in the pool. :)

From left: Brian, Dave, and Sarah

Monday, May 15, we had breakfast at the – where else? – buffet, and then took a taxi to a huge straw market. We were advised by several people, including the resort’s concierge and bellman, as well as our taxi driver, Daniel, not to go to the ‘little one’ as the proprietors were much more aggressive. Mercado 28 was the place to go. I have to say, I cannot imagine it possible that the people running the booths at the ‘little one’ could possibly be any more aggressive than those at Mercado 28. It was almost scary. Juan had warned us not to believe the shopkeepers when they claimed to have ‘better’ merchandise behind the makeshift shop or in their van out back. It was a likely a ploy by the Mexican Mafia to recruit young people, especially women, into sex and slave trades. Wow! Scary! As you can imagine, I had a tight grip on Sarah and never let Brian out of my sight. They used clever ploys like ‘Eh, senor! I remember you from the resort! I am your bartender at night! Remember you told me you would stop by?’ and ‘There you are! I’ve been waiting for you all day!’ and ‘Everything is one dollar!’ Uh, huh. Right. I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but come on! Dave was totally in his element. He is a haggler at heart, so negotiating his way from 180 pesos down to 10 was a great time in his mind. We bought a few gifts, a few souvenirs, some cervezas, some vanilla, some cigars, and some tequila. After the straw market, our taxi driver was more than happy to take us to his liquor store of choice, complete with barred windows and guards armed with machine guns! Sarah and I stayed in the car. Brian braved it with Dave, and they managed to find a requested bottle of Almendrado Premium Reserva Del Senor Tequila for one of Dave’s employees. It was a whopping eight bucks. We had actually taste-tested it on our first afternoon at the resort and loved it. Now we wish we’d brought some home for ourselves since it’s not available anywhere but Cancun. Esta vida. And, of course, we talked our driver into one more stop at, duh, Starbucks. It was really as simple as, ‘Hey, Daniel, would you mind stopping at a Starbucks?’ and a ‘Si, seniorita! No problem!’ He actually had to try two because there was no place to park at the first one so, despite subtle protests, he put his hands in the air and exclaimed with a hearty laugh, ‘To another!’ I discovered after we got back to our resort that I had left my prescription sunglasses in the taxi but, after a quick call from the valet, our driver returned and gave them back to me. He had earned our business for the remainder of our trip.

PS, I got these (and a few of the others throughout this post) from the world wide web by simply googling the name of the place, because I was not about to get an iPhone out to snap a pic. You can find them too, if you cared to look, so I'm not going to worry about giving photo creds. If someone whines, I'll add them. Suffice to say, they're way more awesome than I could have taken anyway.

That evening, we found the seemingly nonexistent fondue restaurant, which was actually three tables on a deck behind the gift shop. Huh? The waiter was one who we had enjoyed the company of the night before in the lobby bar and he recognized us immediately and remembered what we had ordered. We had a great cheese fondue with bread, and a white and milk-chocolate fondue with fruit and marshmallows. Both were divine, and we were sad we hadn’t been able to locate it before! Our evenings were filled with live music in the lobby bar, occasional snacks of sushi, room service chips and guacamole, performance shows in the hotel theater, and amazing oceanfront sunsets that were almost as beautiful as a Don Foster original. Weather-wise, our first 2 days were very windy, but beautifully sunny and hot. The next two were absolutely stunning mornings and rolling thunderstorms in the afternoons.

Day 5, Tuesday, May 16, was NOT Sarah's Birthday!!   We celebrated by taking the excursion of her choice, swimming with dolphins. After our usual breakfast at the buffet, (it was becoming quite the delicious habit) we hailed Daniel for a ride to Dolpinaris for our dolphin encounter.  The facility was very nice, and the staff were friendly and professional. We were shown where we could find lockers and shuffled to a waiting area just outside the dolphins’ pool. I was very sad to not be able to wear my prescription goggles, purchased for just this occasion (well, and snorkeling . . . coming soon), but the trainer explained that, since the dolphins explore with their mouths, it was very dangerous to take anything into the pools that had the potential of coming loose or falling off, as it could become a choking hazard. Okay, so I guess that’s a good excuse.

The dolphins’ workspace was pristine. The pools were spacious, with sandy bottoms and clear salty water. We were all a little worried about the ‘captivity’ part of dolphin encounters, but our hesitations were assuaged when we saw seemingly happy creatures leaping from the water, getting handed mouthfuls of fish as rewards, and following along in the water as their trainers walked along the pool edges. We were completely relieved of any guilt once we had an opportunity to actually interact with them. Our guide, one of the trainers, was joined by a photographer and a videographer who followed us throughout the 60-minute activity. We’d read in reviews before our trip that they felt much like paparazzi, but we didn’t feel that way. They were unobtrusive, staying on the sidelines and often on the other sides of the pools, only occasionally asking us or our dolphin companions to ‘smile!’ We were so glad to learn that the dolphins have personalities just like people, and they have good days and bad days just like people. As a result, some days, they just didn’t feel like working and so, they didn’t have to! The tricks and shows and activities are all dependent on the dolphins’ desire to play and have fun and please their human companions. As a result, you’re never ‘assigned’ a particular dolphin, and never know what you’re going to get! Let's just say, we lucked out.

The kids absolutely loved it and were in awe over the dolphins themselves, and impressed by the care the trainers showed. It was just the four of us in our group, and we worked with two dolphins named Soleil and Pablo. Pablo and the trainer had worked together for 4 of the dolphin’s 13 years and they clearly had a very close bond. Soleil, much the senior at 22, had only been working with him for six months, though, so she was still relatively new in her training and not quite as adept at the various moves as the younger, and much bigger, Pablo. They were so personable and seemed very happy. We got kisses, high fives, waves, dances, and a foot push ~ we laid on our belly out in the pool, and the dolphins each pushed one of our feet while they swam, causing us to skim along the surface and rise up like a Titanic’s masthead! It was so much fun. We felt lucky to get to interact with Pablo and Soleil. They were the perfect partners for our breathtaking experience.

After returning back to the hotel that afternoon, we hung out, relaxed, and took our requisite naps in anticipation of our long-awaited reservation at the hotel’s steak house, San Telmo . . . at 9:30 p.m.  It was not our favorite restaurant of the trip, but it was very good.

Continuing to follow our busy/not busy/busy schedule, we spent Wednesday morning sleeping in, having breakfast – do I even need to tell you where? – and then being picked up at about 10:45 by a local company called Total Snorkel. They took us through some questionable-at-best parts of town, the real Mexico we presumed, which had small, dilapidated houses, lots of loose and most likely stray dogs, barefooted children, and meat hanging in the open air for sale.  Once we got closer to the ‘top’ of the Yucatan Peninsula where the marinas were, we were dropped off for our 4-stop snorkeling adventure. Following some instructions by both our tour guide and the marina manager, we applied our specially-purchased biodegradable, reef-safe sunscreen. Let’s be honest, it was more like kids paste that went on thick white, and never soaked or rubbed in or, we presume, washed off - the point, exactly. But, we didn’t get sunburned! I wished I’d had a t-shirt to wear under my life jacket like my smart family but, alas, I didn’t, so I got a little rub-burned from it but, otherwise, we were unscathed.

We actually only stopped the boat at three different places (not four, as advertised), the first of which was a reef just about 5 minutes from the marina that had tons of different kinds of fish, coral, and plant life. They taught us how to fall backward off the side of the boat, which was a scary thing to do!  I only did it twice, the second time losing my swim fins, and then deciding I was better off to swing my legs over and go in foot-first. The sea was a little rough because of the wind, so we ended up with some salt water in our snorkel tubes and it took a little while to get the hang of not sucking it in and choking.

Disclaimer: All of these photos were taken by Isaiah (? Not sure if I'm remembering his name correctly), the photographer/videographer assigned to us. We purchased the photo package, so these weren't hijacked. 

Practicing in a nasty shallow area. Banana peel, anyone? Or, perhaps some watermelon? Ewww.

 

We were all a little surprised to see this little guy chillaxin' near the reef. The guide said that they get scared sometimes when the crowds of snorkelers and divers are out in the morning and take a little swim off to another area to get away from us all. Sorry little guy! 

After we spent some time at the reef, we swam a short distance to an underwater sculpture museum (spot number four . . . a ha!). It was amazing. There were hugs stone sculptures of hands forming a large circle in the sand. They were about six or so feet below the surface and appearing to be at least that height themselves, although it was admittedly difficult to tell actual distance and size underwater. There were also three flat, carved surfaces that rested on the ocean’s floor and looked like they could have been molds of some kind. I loved that part. I had seen MUSA online, the underwater museum in Cancun, and really wanted to go there. But but none of us are certified scuba divers and we weren’t sure we would have had time to get certified while we were there. But this was a different mini-museum, which gave me a little taste of what I might experience at MUSA. It sealed the deal. I’m gettin’ certified before our next trip to Cancun.

Then we got back in the boat and drove about 10 more minutes to the second (a.k.a. 3rd) stop, a sea turtle habitat! WHAT?!?!?!?! It was very grassy on the bottom of the ocean in this area, and apparently the turtles like the soft sand and virtual lack of rocks and coral. Once we finally saw them, we could see why. They blended perfectly with the streaming sunlight and undulating shadows cause by waves, flowing grasses, and passing fish along the ocean floor. We saw four turtles of various sizes at this stop, one of which was estimated by our boat guide to be about six feet in diameter. She was just swimming along the surface of the water right alongside the boat. It was SO cool. They are so cute and graceful in the water.

Finally, after re-boarding and driving about 10 more minutes, we arrived at a ship wreck which was partially sticking up out of the water. The mast sat above the water level and had sea birds all over it, and probably looked much like it would have when it was sailing. My Disney brain took over and I thought, until I saw one fly away, that the birds were animatronics and statues placed there to enhance our experience! They definitely were not. The wreck was really neat, but the current was very strong, and the guide had warned us to not touch the ship because it was covered with fire coral, so named because it left you with a stinging, hot sensation. I was so paranoid that I was going to float right into it that I made a quick lap around it and then just floated, treading water until the rest of the group was done. We had 12 people in our group, plus our guide, a boat hand who literally gave us a hand getting in and out, the boat’s captain, and a great underwater photographer/videographer. The guide and photographer joined the 12 of us in the water while the others stayed aboard, and we had to stay in a pretty tight group to keep from floating away on the current. So, it was quite crowded, and we ended up unintentionally running into or kicking others, or being kicked by their flippers. Brian didn’t like that part at all, and it took away from his enjoyment of it a little bit. But, all in all, it was a really fun experience. I hope Bri liked it enough to want to try it another time under different circumstances.

After we got back to the hotel, we showered, changed, and took the city bus into ‘town’, which was about 2 miles away in the more crowded Hotel Zone. I’m sorry, we did what? Took a city bus in Mexico? Yup. We did. 

We went to a very nice outdoor mall that had high end stores like Gucci and Louis Vuitton. Total tourist trap, we know. We also found a Starbucks and a McDonald's, so both the girls and the boys got a little American fix. Brian liked going in the Gucci store and tried on some $700 tennis shoes, and Dave liked the TAG Heuer watch shop. Sarah found some clothes at Zara and at Pull and Bear, and I bought my traditional souvenir, a sweatshirt. I’d been looking all week for a Cancun sweatshirt but, apparently, in a place where the temperatures are 85+ and humidity is about the same, they don’t wear sweatshirts. But, in Pull and Bear, I saw a cute white hoody AND it was a zip-up, just the kind I like to wear! It had some sort of logo or insignia on the front left, and I told Sarah, ‘If that says Cancun, I’m buying it.' As I approached it and took it off the hanger, I realized it said, of all things, ‘Hawaii’! Hahahahaha. It’s funny, because Hawaii is also a hot and humid place that probably doesn’t lend well to sweatshirt-wearing, but I’ve never been there so I’ll always know where my Hawaiian Cancun sweatshirt came from! Come to think of it, if I do ever go to Hawaii, I'll have to keep an eye out for one that says Cancun!

Then we hopped back on the bus and headed to Hard Rock Café, one of Greg’s favorite places to go when we traveled together because there is literally one everywhere we went. Ever since he passed away, wherever we go, we find a Hard Rock and toast him, and we wanted to do it this time with the kids. After we all got our drinks, our server took our picture of us toasting ‘To Greg’ and, as if on cue, the overhead music began playing ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ by Journey, Greg’s absolute favorite song. It brought me to tears. We all knew that he was there with us and was toasting us back.

To Greg. We'll never stop believin'.

The late-night bus ride back to the resort was interesting, to say the least, and we got off a stop early when some men started kind of harassing Sarah. I’m glad that was Dave’s chosen solution instead of socking them, which I’m sure he would have loved to do if he wasn’t with his wife and daughter. The guys were super annoying and we wanted to get out of that situation. It was just a matter of a few blocks that we had to walk, and it had cooled off significantly by then (it was probably only about 80), so it wasn’t too bad.

Thursday was all about relaxing on our last day. We rented a Bali Bed again, and it was just as awesome. We had another great but different server, the seafood grill for lunch, a bottle of champagne, and the boys took the massages this time. They loved them, of course. We managed not to get too sunburned, but spent a great day bouncing between sun, shade, ocean, pool, bar, restaurants, sleep and people-watching. There was a wedding on the beach late in the afternoon, so that was really fun to watch them set up for and then to watch the wedding itself. People were pretty rude, though, standing way too close to the wedding group in their swimsuits, taking photos and video, and walking right through photographer shots. It made Sarah realize that, if she ever thinks a ‘destination wedding’ is a good idea, someone should talk her out of it. After showering and resting in the room for a bit, we enjoyed the Italian restaurant again (our favorite) for dinner, and then headed back to the room to prepare for our departure the next morning.

We had an uneventful return, which we like, arriving home at about 8:30 p.m. and heading straight to Annie’s house (Sarah’s horseback trainer) to pick up Cooper, who was being fur-babysat there. We had watched Annie’s dog, Mildred, a few weeks before so it made a good trade. We got a good night sleep at home, woke up late and got suitcases unpacked, laundry done, and then headed to mom’s to figure out What’s Next. That’s another post.

Hasta pronto, Mexico. Hasta que volvamos a vernos!