Primeras Impresiones - First Impressions

            Our first impression of Mexico was of the glorious heat. As soon as we stepped outside the airport, boom! It felt like being a piñata at the sun’s birthday party. If you visit Mexico, be prepared for the intensity of the tropics. Imagine opening a 400˚F oven while bending over it. Yup, that’s pretty close.

            Anytime that we walked outdoors, we had to do the celebrity thing and hide beneath hats and sunglasses. I’ve never had so many requests for autographs in my life, LOL. Since we expected to spend a lot of time in the water, we were pretty stoked, especially as we’d arrived at the end of the rainy season.

            Ah, the much-debated rainy season. You should research it before you book your vacation. We had been told that if it rained, it wouldn’t last more than an hour or so. We heard that Mexico still feels warm during the rain, and that the weather wouldn’t hamper our activities. Was this true? Yes and no.

            During our first week, we had two hours of rain. Once the sun re-appeared, everything returned to oven mode. We resumed our faux celebrity status with hats and Ray-Bans, and were rapidly surrounded by adoring fans (Just kidding). Sunbathers quickly claimed all the beach loungers, while iguanas assumed their languid posturing on the walkways.   

            Our second week was somewhat different. We had two rainy days of intermittent showers. No longer did we wonder about the large umbrella we had found in our closet. The trams, sheathed in heavy plastic, still carted guests around the resort. Staff members manned their long floor squeegees with aplomb. Iguanas stayed out of sight, undoubtedly sipping hot cocoa while watching old episodes of Jeopardy.

             Why would anyone visit Mexico during the rainy season? For the same reason that people eat ice cream in the winter: it is still a delicious escape from normal. If you travel there in October, plan to include activities that don’t depend on the sunshine. You can read, shop, visit the spa, enjoy leisurely meals, and be glad for each minute away from your normal 9-5 grind.

            Our second week included two rainy days, as well as an electrical storm one night. We didn’t hear the thunder much over the wind. At that point, I remembered that we were technically in hurricane season. Hmmm, should I wake Darling Hubby now, or wait until the last minute? What if this was our last minute. I wasn't really scared, just intrigued. After all, none of the palm trees had jack-knifed. Yet.  Still, their frenzied fronds could have whipped up enough froth for the entire resort to have lattes for breakfast. 

            Next morning, I asked the fellow in reception if he had slept through the storm. He acknowledged that we’d had a “strong rain.” Too funny. Isn’t that like calling the Rocky Mountains a mild increase in elevation? 

           Enough water had seeped beneath our door to make the marble floor hazardous. It showed no sign of stopping, so they moved us to another building. This one was identical to the first but with a few advantages: 

1) We now had the most gorgeous ocean view imaginable from our new room. Spectacular!!! 

2) We were now directly across from the buffet. 

3) The new A/C unit worked better.          

            Air conditioning in Mexico is a study in relativity. We are accustomed to sleeping at temperatures blow 20˚C year round. Our hotel room never got quite that cool, but the ceiling fan provided enough air movement to keep us comfy. As soon as we stepped outside our room, we realized how cool it actually was. I’m sure our housekeepers shook their heads at the crazy Canadians who kept their room like the inside of a meat locker.   

            Besides the heat, we had to make adjustments for the humidity. They say that if you’re from the Calgary area, everywhere else feels sticky. Well, we are and it does. Most of the time, the ocean breeze refreshes you like nothing else. If you’re going to be in the water, the humidity doesn’t matter. The main thing we found was that when we hung up our wet swimsuits to dry, they took longer than we had expected. They did slightly better on the balcony than over the tub.  

            We had brought along some detergent with which to rinse out some socks and undies, since there was no coin laundry at the GB. That was our plan. Once there, we found that socks were redundant, except for wearing home to chilly Alberta. Because we were on the third floor, our damp undies were obscured from view. As far as I know, none of them blew off the balcony. But if you hear rumours of iguanas and parrots being sighted in Fruit of the Loom, you’ll know.        

            On that note, while most prices seemed reasonable at the GB, the cost of laundering seemed exorbitant to us. Since all laundry services include ironing, I wasn’t about to engage in a bilingual request to opt out of having my foundational garments ironed. So either take enough for the whole of your stay, or festoon your balcony with them. And if you take only red ones, they will blend in perfectly with the Hibiscus flowers!

            The brief rainy period did nothing to hinder my shopping experience. Since I couldn’t be in the ocean, I was pleased to run off to the shopping district. The GB has its own little market, which I will describe in a separate post. The outdoor stalls had awnings over them, but it was still a little drippy in places. I felt very safe leaving Darling Hubby’s side for a couple of hours. The rain wasn’t pouring heavily the whole day, so it wasn’t the dreary time it might have been at home. Also, most of the second week was less intensely hot, so we shed our celebrity accessories and bid adios to our 15 minutes of fame.   

            For the most part, Mexico provided us with perfect beach conditions. Except for certain older ladies who liked to sun random portions of their bodies without warning. Trust me ladies, your exposure failed to enhance the otherwise idyllic Caribbean ambience. I hope you didn’t go home to find your experience immortalized on FaceBook. Or if you did, I wasn’t the culprit. I was too busy watching the iguanas stalking their prey across the sand. Once you’ve seen how fast they can move, you might change your mind about where you’d risk having one land on your person. I’m just saying…   

            The Gran Bahia resort is huge, bordered by a mile of beach and sea green Caribbean. Tulum is the oldest section with the most private beach. Akumal had the most fish to see when we snorkelled. Coba is the newest, but also the furthest from the beach. Plus, the sand there had a lot of coral bits in it. So each section has pros and cons, but you have access to everything no matter where on the resort you stay. It’s almost like parking at the mall. You can be close to the food court or close to Target, but not both.      

           Our main goal in coming to Mexico was to enjoy some snorkelling. I saw more fish at the GB than I did on our two snorkelling excursions. For a beginner, it was pretty awesome. The water is clear and not too weedy. We even ventured out beyond the floats and the manmade barriers without it getting much over our heads.

            In my next post, I’ll go into more detail about the resort and our rooms. I still have lots of memories to share with you J          

            Parting thought: If you can’t tolerate the heat but you don’t like to be in the water either, maybe you should go to Milwaukee. At least there they have cable channels in English.

Vamos - Let's Go

        Two weeks in Mexico!!! On hearing our travel plans, most of our friends shared our enthusiasm for the Mayan Riviera. Some warned us about the perils of choosing Mexico over Hawaii. Beware the pickpockets! You’ll have to fight off hordes of stubborn vendors. Not to mention, the dreaded Montezuma’s Revenge. (Or as our buddy Allan calls it, Big D.) No worries. We wanted adventure. Bring it on.

            Mexico was a random choice for us. We had asked our travel agent, Jo, for a warm destination suitable for celebrating our 35^th anniversary. We envisioned snorkelling together. Lazing on beaches… together. Sipping cold drinks under thatched umbrellas…together. Shopping………. 

            Okay, togetherness isn’t everything. Darling Hubby’s patience is limited, and it was his vacation, too. Still, I was pretty sure that the thought of me braving acres of market stalls, for hours in the hot sun, might soften him up. A bit. What if the tropical UV rays melted not only my mascara, but also my sales resistance? Did he really want to test that theory?  

            The Gran Bahia Principe at Tulum offered us the best value, besides the lure of an all-inclusive resort. I love to cook for people. (Even strangers. Just throw me a hungry look and then watch my mothering instincts kick in.) Still, the thought of two weeks without any kitchen prep or clean-up won me over. After all, we were celebrating three and a half decades of domestic survival. Maui, with its overpriced groceries, could wait.

            We planned to leave on Thanksgiving Monday. Vacationing in October makes for a long summer. While other friends took off for Paris, Punta Cana and the Oregon coast, we stayed home. Working. Waiting. Polishing our rusty Spanish. Learning to think in pesos.

            Not being a seasoned traveller, I Googled “How to Pack like a Pro” and found a great YouTube tutorial. After laying my belongings on the bed, I painstakingly followed the instructions. Create layers in your suitcase starting with shoes, into which you tuck assorted small items. Roll or fold garments to fit into the gaps.

            My resolve evaporated after a second viewing. Lay out everything you plan to take and then eliminate about a third. WHAT???!!! I’ve never learned how to turn off my incessant internal recording that chirps, “You’ll need it later! Yes, you will!” After all, we wouldn’t be able to run to the neighbours for anything we’d forgotten. The head honchos at West Jet must suffer from a similar recording. Even with all my books and snorkel gear, we were both under their luggage weight limit. Woohoo!     

            At least I had the good sense to leave my tin of baking soda at home (Used for cleaning my dental splint). Containers of white powder are viewed with suspicion by border guards everywhere. Can you blame them? I could picture an official picking up my tin: Shake, shake, shake. Twisting off the lid. Bushy eyebrows raised at the sight of the contents. Those stern brows swivelling to me, and then hovering over a triumphant expression that needs no translation in any country: Ha, ha, foolish tourist, we’ve got you now. Hand over your life! I decided to risk a grody splint instead of an irate official. Good call.

            Like two kids waiting for Santa, Darling Hubby and I slept sporadically the night before. Despite our best efforts to get into vacation mode, we rose at 6 a.m., helplessly mindful of the fact that our departure wasn’t until after midnight. And then we were headed to the airport! West Jet does their best to facilitate slumber on red-eye flights, short of expelling the oxygen from the cabin. But no. All night long, we kept checking the little plane on the TV screen as it flew across the map of North America. Because the pilot totally needed our vigilance, didn’t he? What if he veered off course? Hey, they hadn’t put us in charge of the emergency exit for nothing. So with our expert assistance (or in spite of it), we made it, via Toronto, to Cancun around noon.

            Jo had cautioned us about the airport corridor through which we’d have to pass to find our hotel shuttle. They’ll try to sell you all kinds of excursions and deals. Don’t even make eye contact with them. Got it. Just like the sign next to the gorillas at the zoo.

             I had envisioned a narrow gauntlet packed with rabid vendors grabbing for our lapels. (Yes, I know I have a lively imagination. Hey, I’m a fiction writer.) It was far less daunting than we had anticipated. Jo had also expected us to be on the beach by two o’clock. LOL.

            Can you say, “Milk run?” The shuttle from Cancun to the Gran Bahia stopped at several other resorts. One was at the end of a long, narrow pothole of a road that had been flooded. Darling Hubby even saw fish in the puddles! The long ride was too much for two tiny girls in the back of the shuttle who had reached their tolerance limit a thousand air miles earlier. Poor little sweethearts.

            I admire the fortitude of parents who travel with their children. I also admire the foresight of travellers who take a taxi from the airport. Never mind, we’d come for the full experience. Where else can you see the rare Pisces in Puddelius?

            Lots of places in Mexico are gated. Each of the hotels we stopped at had a sturdy gate and a guard at the entrance. This surprised me, because I’m accustomed to all the resorts in Banff National Park, not far from our home. Many of them are isolated, but anyone is free to enter.

            At first, this increased my feeling of security for where we were headed. Surely they would have similar measures in place. Then I wondered about the need for all of this. Is it really so dangerous outside the resort? Maybe not. Maybe the staff refuses to deal with any more demanding turistas than is absolutely necessary. Having been both a waitress and a chamber maid in my pre-college days, I could relate to that.    

            I never asked anyone about these security measures. We always felt safe in Mexico, at least as much as we do at home. (Especially when we realized that the iguanas all over our resort barely moved when you walked within a couple of feet of them. But more on that in a later post.) There are lots of places in Canadian cities that feel sketchy late at night. My kids will tell you that I am one suspicious mama. So if we felt safe, that should tell you something. If you have any doubts, plan to stay on the resort and relax.

            Two and a half hours later, we arrived at the GB. To me, it appeared much better than the other resorts we’d seen. Lusher landscaping. Nicer buildings. Lots of amenities separated by lots of jungle. Charming and exotic.

            After a momentary stop at the main lobby, we were driven to our private check-in area. For us, the upgrade we’d purchased for our vacation package was definitely worth it. We weren’t one of twenty other groups checking in, we were one of three. After being awake for 30 or 40 hours, that’s pretty nice. And knowing how cranky I get when I’m sleep-deprived, it worked in their favour, too.

            In the Tulum area of the Gran Bahia, this upgrade is called the Diamond Club. It includes things (that are extras with the basic package) like a lock for your room safe, an extra room key, more meals in the restaurants, and less hassle in general. That little orange bracelet they make you wear is worth every peso.      

            The Gran Bahia provides a variety of open vehicles for taking their guests around the resort. We heard them being called trains, trams, wagons and trolleys. A cart by any other name rattles just as loud. Riding them is fun because someone else gets to do the driving for a change. My only caution is that they don’t come with a lot of places to hang onto, so you might want to seat your small children away from the edge. And make sure you communicate with the driver before you step off.

            I wish the Diamond Club status allowed us the opportunity to pilot one of these puppies at top speed around the winding roads of the GB, as lizards and tourists alike skittered out of the way. (Now that’s my idea of a summer job - even better than go-carts! No wonder the drivers are always in a good mood.) It does not. Sigh. I had to suffice with the vicarious thrill of sitting behind the driver’s seat. Most of them cranked up their tropical music and shimmied a bit to the beat (the drivers, not the carts, which provide a distinctly creaking rhythm of their own).

            Just like them (the carts, not the drivers), Mexico is full of contrasts. Relax, but hold onto your seats. The best is yet to come.   

Stay tuned for my next instalment. 

Bienvenida - Welcome

            Welcome to my travel blog! I hope you find it entertaining and informative. I am writing this as a personal memento of our recent trip this October. There are too many details to share on FaceBook, as many of you know how long-winded I can be, LOL.

            I am not trying to promote any specific venue in Mexico. If you’re considering a trip to the Mayan Riviera, maybe you’ll find some details to help you decide where you want to visit. Or avoid. Feel free to ask for more details.

            I welcome your comments, as long as we keep this fun and light-hearted. So let’s go, amigos!