March 04, 2004cancun [su/m]SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 2004
GREAT WHITE CHICKEN OF THE SEAFlew out in a snowstorm. I kid you not. Heading to 80 degree clear weather in the Caribbean and there's four inches of snow on my lawn. Took us two hours (double the time) to get to the airport because the sideways snow turned into sideways sheets of rain on the freeway. Pretty damned typical considering my luck with flying. At least I made it to the airport on time at 7:30 - exactly when I had planned - for the 9:30 flight. Lucky we left at 5freakin30am, eh?
The flight was fairly uneventful. Take off, cruise at altitude, and land. And oh my god welcome to the tropics! The a/c on the flight was for some reason working at 2% power and I'm sure my deoderant quit two hours into the four and a half hour flight. My rowmates didn't mind, I'm sure, because theirs probably quit, too. Being from Seattle, they were melting as much as I was. At least I provided entertainment with showing off my ability to strip layers of clothing without even getting out of my seat or flashing any unmentionables.
We arrived at Club Med shortly before sundown. Talk about gorgeous. I've been to the tropics several times before, so I was fairly certain of what sights I'd be greeted with. I wasn't let down at all. Lush green backed by a crystaline turquoise ocean. Probably a good thing I wasn't overwhelmed by it all because all I really wanted to do was unstickify myself and take a goddamn shower. However, such plans were delayed a short time by orientation. In the theater we were given our keys and room assignments along with a fabulous fruit-drink sorta welcome thing of which I partook of three. Found out I was rooming with DC's mom. I was a little worried because I knew she was sort've early to bed early to rise, but soon as I told her I was the exact opposite and nothing she could do in the room short of jumping jacks on my bed would wake me in the morning - we got along famously. Tanny is a really wonderful lady, though. Recovering from losing her husband a few months ago, so we had something in common to talk about while unpacking. I think I took a lot off her mind explaining the intricacies of greif. Sometimes you need assurances that you're doing allright, y'know?
She did, however, practically traumatize me with her response to DC's phone being busy: "They're having a quickie, we'll have to call back later." Just the mental image I wanted of my boss. Thank you very much, Tanny.
Our room had a spectacular view of the sea.
On the way to dinner we met Albert. Big Al. The two people that will be laughing at that realize that, yes, Albert is a 12 foot crocodile that lives in the lagoon which the Club Med peninsula sort've surrounds. Stray off the footpaths after dark at your own risk, folks.
Dinner was French themed buffet. I walked into the main restaurant and, I shit you not, got CONFUSED there was so much food to choose from. I literally had NO clue where to start. Much to the grand amusement of my coworkers. They're well-aware how food motivated I am. Though I think I did shock a few of them when I packed away five heaping plates and told them it was setting a standard for the trip.
We missed the nightly show - lip singing contest put on by teams of the GO's (Gentile Organizers, I think) - due to discovering the wonders of an open bar brought by an "all inclusive" vacation package. Several of our group had never, ever experienced anything like it before and got a liiiittttle bit carried away.
By the time we got to the disco(teque) - two hours later - a few of our group were a little more than completely hammered from the endless fountain of Corona-youth and this strangely intriguing neon blue drink called a Vodka Boost. That's right. One-third vodka. Two-thirds Boost - which is the Mexican version of Red Bull. I stuck with Kamakaze shot rounds with the girls. You know the drinks are watered down when I can have a few shots and not even get buzzed. The disco was beautiful. Half of it was all doors that opened up to a view of the beach and ocean just past the patio.
Other GM's (Gentile Members) were greatly entertained, and probably MORE entertained by Neal and Bob's antics during the little welcoming Woodstock show than the actual show itself. By 1:30am, I had been up 36 hours and was remembering that even I could not dance all night, and the others were ready to wind down and call it a night. Well, most others. We had to practically carry Neal out of the disco with assurances it would be there tomorrow night. In fact, it was open every night from 11pm to 7am. The night was not over yet for him, not by a long shot. As Tami, Penny, Bobby and I were staggering back towards the rooms, we heard behind us this great splashing noise followed by a woman's flabbergasted shreik. Upon turning around, only Sarah (Neal's wife and my coworker) was on the walk. At the far left was Neal in the ocean. Inbetween Neal and Sarah was a trail of clothes.
All hail Vodka Boosts!
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 23
I'VE FOUND MY NEW SPORTOne 36 hour day equates to my not seeing the next morning. I didn't drag myself out of bed until around 2:00, staggered into the shower and then staggered on to the bar to hook up a margarita and do some exploring. Found a few coworkers on the beach and headed to La Palapa (the secondary restaurant) to meet up with some others for a late lunch.
Our table overlooked the ocean and offered a breathtaking view. Initial plans post-lunch were to go kayaking. Then we discovered there was a 3:30 beginners lesson in windsurfing and the kayaks were disarded in the blink of an eye. Patrick and I paired up and found out that if you can learn to windsurf in weather that's blowing in a storm - you can do it any damned time you please.
Yep, I've found my new sport. I wasn't ready to give up when they called us back to the beach at 5:30. We were both convinced that we hadn't spent enough time flailing off the boards and into the bathwater warm water yet. No sir. We planned to come back tomorrow morning and continue the entertainment, only thing bringing us back in to shore was the fact windsurfing (or learning to) will work up a monster appetite.
Damn funny how Italian buffet can slay such a monster appetite.
The GO show was the Colors of Cabaret. They did dances from around the world in correspondence to different colors lighting the stage. Red for Spanish tango. Orange for African tribal ceremony. Blacklight for a magician, and so on. Most of the evening was spent playing pool at the bar with one of our group running the table for about 20 games straight before the alcohol kicked in and gave other GOs a chance to play.
And yes, we were at the disco until about 1:30am in the morning. Again.
Posted by Wolf at March 04, 2004 12:18 AM
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