Welcome Home, myself! It’s so not good to be here. I left 85 degree paradise to come home to snow? (What is this about, BTW, it’s almost May.) My trip was SO fabulous! I’m glad we yoga’d together on Monday, but there’s no way Vishnu was about to let us chat mid downward-dog, so I have so much to tell you….
Let’s start with day one of the Yucatan adventure… We all had that first-day-of-vacation glow where you’re slathered in SPF 50 while day dreaming of all the adventures in store… It was a gorgeously sunny day and we took the ferry to Cozumel to rent scooters to ride around the island. Only we didn’t get very far because Preston CRASHED his right in front of the rental shop. All I saw was the top of his head jerk to the right then heard a loud bang. He laid there for 30 seconds in what I thought was certain paralysis, but turned out to be just an FML moment.
Although he crashed in to three other scooters, the damage of the whole wreck was amazingly minimal. I’d estimate that the most expensive damage was to his new birthday sunglasses which were reduced to Mexican cobblestone. The scooters were midly scratched. I’m talking a nail polish fix. Yet these scooter scoundrels were demanding upwards of $1,000. After trying to reason with the a-holes, we decided that we paid the $35 insurance for a reason and rode off in to the sunset.
We let no-nonsense Papa V return the scooters later that evening. Had anyone else done the return, we would’ve paid them off in fear (these were scary scootermen). Next thing we know Papa V is approaching the dock (where we were waiting near the getaway boat) being chased by a loud angry Mexican cursing at him to stop (It was one of the Scootermen!) But he kept his steady pace, told us to walk towards the boat and not acknowledge the angry man. This was an effective plan until I heard a shreiking, “BIANCAAAAA”. I turned around and there was Preston, in the grips of a Mexican Federale. Outfitted with an olive beret, steel-toed boots, and machine gun, I immediately turned around and started panic-yelling at the man in what I thought was Spanish but was clearly jibberish.
The family eventually made it to the scene of the arrest, thank god, because all of that Spanish I learned studying abroad conveniently escaped me. Everyone jumped in to try and tell the story to the burley armed Mexican cop. We aren’t talking here, we are yelling in Spanish -To the ferry boat operator, to the Federale, to Scooterman, trying to explain the situation. Preston neither speaks nor understands Spanish, and was constantly asking me for a translation. I was panicking and there was clearly no time for this. The Federale finally agrees with us, apologizes to Preston, then says “you give a bad name to Mexico” to Scooterman, then lets us go. Preston asked if ‘Lo Siento’ meant ‘You’re under arrest’ in Spanish. We let him wonder… We finally made it back to Playa and Preston eventually lauged about the whole situation. (When he made it back through customs in the US). I just wish we had pictures.
Everything else pails in comparison of shock value, but after catastrophe day #1, the rest of the trip was flawless! Have you ever seen Planet Earth Caves edition? Well I swam in one exactly like that. It was a mile long, pitch dark underground cave complete with stalagtites and blind marine life. I had to wear a head lamp to see. It was incredible.
I dove off cliffs in to the Carribean Sea, snorkled with exotic sea life, found a starfish (they crawl, it’s outrageous), found a rope swing, hiked through Mayan ruins (the end of the world is a farse), and found our own secret white sand aqua-blue beach. It was literally the best vacation I’ve ever had. My room still kind of smells like the beach, and I am hoping it lingers for just a little bit longer.
I’m so happy to hear you had a drama fueled week with the DWs. I can’t wait to see what happens this weekend! Algebra’s concert AND Prestons big 25?! I think we’re in for a doozie, my friend.
Tan and Skinny from drinking the water,