Sailing

When I close my eyes, I can still feel the movement of the waves under me. It is maybe a faint, residual drunkenness, but mostly I think the six hours on the water today have left me with this feeling. I've been thinking about the day and how it was such a nice birthday. I realize how happy I really am. On my list of best times, I'd have to rank today fairly high.

I've also been thinking that maybe 40 isn't that old. I've never been afraid of birthdays. Granted, the 12-year-old me might have been fearful of such advanced years, but I don't feel bad at all. What's more, is that today sort of showcased the fact that all the good times aren't behind me. I look back on the past twelve months and realize that they have been pretty significant. It was good year, really. So far, I think they all have been. I hope the next one is as much fun as the last.

Today, we had to be at the Cozumel Sailing office at the Marina by 8:30 AM. Usually, we never left the Villa before then to go for breakfast, so we got a relatively early start. It was cool outside and this morning we caught sight of our first Cozumeleno jogger.

We had breakfast at La Choza again, and then headed over to the Marina. We got there no later than 8:20 which was rewarded by there being nobody at the sailing office. This gave us time to apply sunscreen (SPF50).

Applying Sunscreen

The other passengers arrived at about a quarter to 9. It was a group that all seemed to know each other. They all took turns snapping pictures and it looked like they were having a nice time. There were 8 of them and so that would make a dozen of us plus the crew if nobody else showed up. I was hoping the boat wouldn't be too crowded.

At about 9:00 or so, our hostess introduced us to Juan, the captain, and Jaime, the 1st mate. We walked over to the boat and had to give up our shoes and put them in a big plastic bag. After that, we got a few rules as we pulled out of the marina. The air was still pretty cool, not what you would call chilly, but relatively nice as we motored past several hotels and resorts. You could see the floor of the Caribbean as we cruised along. In a few minutes, the cooler opened up and I found myself having a beer before 10:00 AM. (So was Ian.)

Soon, we were all at the front of the boat bouncing up and down over the waves. We were served snacks and more beer and I took a lot of pictures. I was really impressed by the beauty of the water, the boat and the sky. Before I knew it, they had unfurled the jib and raised the main and we were under sail. The wind was fairly light, but it was moving us along. Shelly told me that she was glad I didn't cancel. I was glad too. It was good to be out on the water.

Ian had a few beers by now and Jill was beginning to get seasick. Uh oh! I was most worried about Jillian having a good time because the heat has been getting to her. That didn't seem to be a problem today, but I hadn't even thought to worry about seasickness. It sort of caught me by surprise.

We stopped for snorkeling and had a beautiful time. The reef out there was really pretty and it was a ways from shore so there weren't any other people around. We saw some fish we hadn't seen before and some truly amazing coral. Shelly and I were two of the last people to get back on the boat. Jillian was still feeling awful, but she was being a good sport.

After snorkeling, we went further north and took a dingy to Passion Island. We went to a fairly remote location where the water and sky were beautiful, but there was no shade. Also, the sand was strewn with debris from Cozumel vacations long gone by. There were a large number of water bottles and sandals that had washed up on the shore. There were also some nasty biting flies. Our only refuge was in the water. However, since they had my sandals on the boat, it felt really strange walking on the sand-covered vegetation under the waves. Jill covered herself with towels and layed down on the beach.

After about 45 minutes, we were back on the boat for lunch. There really weren't any veggie options and we hadn't caught any fish either, so I ate what they served. It would have been a nightmare at any other time, but the grilled steak and buffalo wings didn't taste too bad. I was pretty hungry too.

When everyone had eaten, it was time for spinnaker rides. The wind wasn't too strong, so I was wishing I had gone on a diet. I was the first because it was my birthday, but the wind only got me about 5 feet or so off the water. It was fun, but a lot of work to keep that sail open. The next person to try would be celebrating his birthday tomorrow. His name was Cal. He probably weighed less than 160, so he really took off.

Jill was feeling better by now and when it was her turn, she dove into the water and climbed on. The sail lifted her high above the water. Jaime was controlling the sail from the boat and flung her back and forth. He had fallen in love with her already, but she didn't tell me that until the end of the day. "Te quiero." he said.

When I got another chance to ride later, the wind was a bit stronger. It launched me to an altitude that would have been uncomfortable to fall from. I am now reminded that during the afternoon, I had been drinking beer pretty steadily. These were punctuated by excuses provided for the birthday boy to drink shots of tequila. (excuses such as "Woo hoo, great ride huh? how about another shot of tequila?")

As we headed back, a fish was hooked and one of the crew handed the pole to someone from the other party. When it was reeled in, it was obviously a barracuda. They put it in a bucket. I can't say it was pretty, but I got a picture. A few minutes later, they hooked another one and I heard a bunch of voices saying "Hey, birthday boy! Your turn!"

I had two thoughts. The first was that I felt like I should participate as expected to be a good sport. The second thought I had was that if I was a bad enough fisherman, maybe I could free the fish. Unfortunately for the fish, there was no freeing it and a few minutes later, it too was aboard the boat in a bucket. ("Woo hoo! great fish, how about a shot of tequila?") I had already arranged for Shelly to drive us back to Casa Colonial, so I wasn't worried about that, but I was actually starting to feel a bit worse off than just "not good to drive." I was beginning to feel pretty schnockered.

For a while after I left the boat, I continued getting more tipsy as a sort of residual effect of drinking all that tequila. I drank a ton of water hoping that I would be able to stay hydrated enough and avoid the dreaded headache that sometimes follows these things.

Pretty soon after we got back to the villa, I had a short nap and woke up feeling a bit better. After a while, we went back into town and had a nice dinner at Senora Grill. Shell and Jill both got henna tattoos tonight. Shelly got one around her wrist and Jill's was a butterfly. As I waited for the tattoos, I noticed that I was almost back to normal. I reflected on the day and the things Shell and the kids got as birthday gifts from the shops we'd been to. I wandered over to a shop off the square and took a picture of some salt and pepper shakers I had noticed earlier.

After the sun went down, we were all sitting by the pool and Ian decided to open a pack of "Cuban" cigars he bought at some point I wasn't around. I don't really like the smell of cigars, but when Ian offered me a birthday cigar, I thought it was a nice gesture. So fishing and cigar smoking were two unusual activities I checked off today.

It really was a nearly perfect day. I had a wonderful time. And now when I close my eyes, I still feel the resonant rocking of the Caribbean. It will be the last sensation I have tonight - the feeling of drifting off to sea and to sleep at the same time.

A day of rest

We've been going pretty much non stop for six days and we are getting hot, sunburned and maybe a little tired too. All agreed that it would be a good idea to take it easy today. We let Ian sleep in at long last. Meanwhile, Shell, Jillian and I decided to go downtown and hang out at the museum and check out some shopping at a place called 5 Soles.

We started the morning with breakfast at Rockin' Java again, then we drove up the waterfront to the museum. It was pretty interesting. We learned a lot about the island and how it was formed (not volcanic), we learned how the native people lived before the Spaniards came and there was even an exhibit about the reef and another about the jungle. We saw some fantastic artifacts and there was even a little hut that you could go into and have a couple of elderly experts in Mayan culture tell you about the life of the native people. The guy who told the story, had one of the hardest accents I have had to listen to. Spanish would have been easier.

After the museum, we went to 5 soles which is really a big store full of arts and crafts and jewelry from from different parts of Mexico. All we got there was a "day of the dead ornament" for my brother who watched the house while we were gone. I think we have collected enough stuff now that we definitely need another bag in order to get it all home.

On our way back to the villa, we decided to check out a store where they have lots of Mexican pottery called talavera. Shelly was in heaven. They had sinks and ashtrays plates and bowls. We collected a small armload of the stuff and headed back to the car. As luck would have it, we found a place that sold duffel bags along the way and we picked up a pretty good sized one. The plan is to pack this full of clothes and so we can use our carry-on to get the breakables home. We were going to have to do something.

We were back to the villa around lunch time and we ordered comida corrida from la Parilla Mission. It was pretty convenient to have lunch delivered by scooter. It was pretty tasty too.

After lunch we went out to get our replacement "Maya Man." He cost us about $30, but it was worth it not to get into trouble. After that, we had dinner at a place called Especias. They had moved from where they were in 2005. The food was very good. The waiter served us a sauce called Chimichurri which is an Argentinean sauce. He declared that it was Marijuana sauce and we all laughed, perhaps a but nervously.

After dinner, it was back to the Casa Colonial for swimming and relaxing.

We are supposed to go sailing tomorrow. Shelly asked me to call and see about canceling today. We are so fried and hot that it seems like six hours on a boat might just melt us. Unfortunately, when I called, there was no answer. While I was trying to get through, I re-read the on-line review. It really did sound like fun. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. There seemed to be a large canopy on the boat and there should be snorkeling and cold drinks.

On the other hand, if the circumstances are wrong, it could really be horrible. I hope everyone has a good time.

What's something like that going to run?

If someone breaks something valuable when I'm around, or spills their coffee on the rug or puts a dent in my car, I usually don't feel upset at all about the loss. The first thing that usually crosses my mind at that instant is one of relief. It is a wordless feeling that translates to: "Whew, that could easily have been me."

I forgot to mention something that happened yesterday. The coffee table in the living room of our villa, had a wooden frame and a leather surface. On top of the coffee table was a Mayan-style sculpture about 10 inches tall. He was made of terracotta and had a headdress that was painted blue on alternating sections.

When we came back from our morning errands, Shelly got some water and a snack and then went over to the sofa and sat down. She put her feet up on the coffee table in front of the sofa as she might do at home, but there was a surprise in store. The top of the coffee table wasn't actually attached to the base, so the "Maya man" as we had taken to calling him, flipped off and broke into pieces on the tile floor.

We had seen similar Maya men at our favorite vendor along the east-west highway, so we decided to see if we could replace the item without bothering to report it. We weren't charged a deposit, so we didn't want any bad feelings with Sarah and Bob, the owners.

Today was Sunday and we didn't know if we could expect our bakery to be open today, or what shops might be open or when, but we left Casa Colonial early and headed out for breakfast at La Choza, some quick shopping to find Shelly a "visor" and then straight to snorkeling.

I don't know if it was because we were early, but the fish today were outstanding. There was a much bigger variety of them than we had seen before. They were also swimming up closer and in much larger numbers than before as well. Things on shore weren't quite as optimal. By the time we were ready to eat, our choices were down to either "chips and salsa" or "salsa and chips." They were out of guacamole, cheese and several other key ingredients. Fortunately, I wasn't suffering from malnutrition.

On my last trip out into the water, I was getting ready to go in, standing on a rock that was covered in some sort of mossy plant life. A wave came up and washed me right off the rock. I went down and hit my elbow on the aforementioned rock and sort of crushed my foot beneath me when I hit the ground. "Great," I thought "this time it is going to be me who need the ambulance."

After I fell, I sat there in the surf and began to take inventory. The elbow obviously hurt, but it still moved OK. I got up off of my foot and I didn't see any problems with it, but I could tell it was going to bother me later. I went ahead and put my snorkel on and floated out away from the rocks.

I was swimming in circles a little because my left foot was doing a kind of aquatic limping, but I figured that as long as my ankle could move, it was probably going to be all right. My elbow was bleeding, but I didn't think I would be attracting any sharks out there. The important thing was that I was swimming OK so the Mexican Red Cross would not be needed today.

I had pocketed some tortilla chips on my way into the water thinking I could feed them to the fish. This worked quite well. The fish were swarming me as I tossed little snacks to them. In all it was really a great day in the water.

That night, we had dinner at an Italian restaurant called Prima. The food was OK, but the service really was excellent. After dinner we went to the town square. We picked up some bracelets from a woman and her two kids. Then we bought a book with lots of picures of tropical fish to help us remember what we saw earlier today. A while later, Jillian got henna tattoo and we bought a couple of paintings by the same artist who was featured in our villa at Casa Colonial. The artist was standing outside with a lot of her work. I really like her water colors so we got two of them - not really knowing how we were going to get them home.

By then there was music playing and a lot of people were gathered in the square to watch the gringo tourists dance. Shelly and I have never been "dancing", but it looked like people were having fun. I really did like the music and asked her if she wanted to join the dancers. She asked me if *I* wanted to, and I must have sputtered something that didn't sound like an unqualified endorsement of the idea because we decided not to.

After a little while of listening to the music we took our treasures and headed back for the night. By that time, my foot felt pretty good.

San Gervasio

Ian wanted to sleep in today because he's been staying up kind of late. Mostly, he's been watching TV and hanging out on My Space. I got him up anyway and I told him that I really didn't care if he stays up late, but that he needed to get up and do stuff with the family while we were on vacation.

We finally found Coco's today. It was at the address the guidebook said, but the place indicated on the map was wrong by about two blocks. On top of that, the place had just been painted and there was no name on the outside of the restaurant. The owner stopped to talk with us and asked how we liked our breakfast. He chatted with Jillian for a while since she ordered a traditional Mexican meal including beans. He was really nice.

After breakfast, we did a little shopping. We bought a couple of painted feathers at a shop called 3alam. The women in there spoke Yucatec I believe. It was really fun to talk to them; they were so proud of their Mayan heritage. One of the women spoke to me a little while about some of the differences between Spanish and her native tongue. Of course, Jillian got a lot out of that conversation as well. We had a great time and the feathers were beautiful and interesting. The shop is just packed with framed feathers painted with different designs. I couldn't help wondering whether the artist was in control of his obsession.

We also picked up some t-shirts along with a few other odds and ends at the nearby shops and then we went on to reserve the boat for Tuesday's sailing.

At the boating office, we saw some of the same metal sculptures we has seen at Rockin' Java a couple of days before and we asked about them. The woman in the boating office actually knew the artist and gave her a call for us. We were looking for a dragonfly, but we hadn't seen one. She told us of a couple of places that have her work and said that one of them should have what we were looking for.

We didn't have time to look for metal sculptures today. We were headed for a music store called Unahi Pax. Ian and I had been there two years before. The owner of the shop has a collection of instruments that might also be on the borderline between passion and obsession. There are lots of toys in there including small bamboo flutes alongside some high quality traditional instruments.

This afternoon we went to see the San Gervasio ruins. If there was one thing I might do differently, I might suggest we take that tour earlier in the day. The trip out to the site took longer than I had expected. Google Earth doesn't really do the place justice. The road was pretty good, but it went on for about 6 miles off of the east-west highway. The place was open and there were a couple of cars outside the entrance to the park. There were some beautiful orchids growing where I parked. These were an unexpected surprise and I wondered what else the jungle had for us today.


The answer came to me a few minutes after I got out of the car. "Heat. Heat is what the jungle has for us." All the gift shops at the site were closed except for a little bar that served 40 peso bottles of water. That's $4.00 each. For small bottles, even. In town those bottles were 5 pesos each. What a difference 12 miles can make.

Fortunately, we had our own water. The start of our walk was fairly pleasant. We went to the Manita structure that had the red hand prints on the altar. Before long, we began to realize that there was a lot more to this place than just a few crumbling structures. There were roadways that had been overgrown with trees, there was an archway and maybe 6 more stone buildings. I really thought the site was interesting. Shelly and I wondered aloud what the place must have looked like 800 years ago.


I take a certain amount of pride in being able to tolerate heat. But the jungle was sweltering. I had sweat rolling down my arms and legs and tried to keep sunscreen on my slippery skin. Jillian and Ian were pretty good sports. Jill was clearly overheating, but we managed to get our way through the ruins without melting. We saw a lot of lizards and iguanas lounging around in the sun. Ian even found a black scorpion along the path.

After the ruins we went back to the east side of the island and playa bonita. Jill's friend Christian was there again. He actually came by to get Jill this evening around 10:40 to see if she could go to a party. Fortunately for me, she had already gone to bed. It was too bad she couldn't go to the party with him. I know it would have been fun for her to have met his friends and stayed out late, but that was kind of a stretch for her mother and I.

you can't go back

The kitchen Jesus

Helmets. I can't believe the helmets. Beyond all of the new construction going on in Cozumel, the most prominent change I noticed from two years ago was that every single scooter rider was wearing a helmet. This included the young children.

When I was here before, I remember nobody except tourists wearing helmets. I thought to myself at the time that helmets just wouldn't make much sense there. It seemed to me that a lot of the people we met would not be interested in shelling out pesos for a Mexican Department of Transporation approved helmet. And yet, here we are with shiny new helmets on every head. They all look new too. I'll have to ask someone when the new rule was put in place.

We attempted to find a breakfast place that we had read about called Coco's. I parked a couple of blocks from where it appeared on the map. We walked around the corner and looked upon the space where the restaurant was supposed to be - and it wasn't there. Hmmm. I pride myself in my ability to navigate with a map. I became convinced that the restaurant had either closed or moved. At any rate, it was no longer there.

Did I mention that it was hot? Yeah, it was hot, even in the morning. Our backup plan was another place called the San Miguel Cafe. Unfortunately, it was about 8 or 10 blocks away. Further than we wanted to walk, but not far enough to get the car and fight for another parking space. So we tread our way along the grid, keeping to the shade when we can, walking a t a steady, slow pace until we reached it.

It, too, was closed. Permanently. At least we saw the name of the place on the wall of the building. We knew we had come to the right place, it wasn't even closed just for the day, it was completely shut down.

As I was looking at the wall, I was thinking about the others in my group. Zero for two and counting. The heat was going to be getting to them, but they were good sports. A few minutes later, we were back at La Choza for another predictably excellent breakfast.

While we ate, a man showed up across the street with a trumpet and a large drum. There were no windows on the restaurant, so we could hear when he bagan to play. His daughter came in holding out a hat. She was awfully cute and most of the tables dropped some change into the hat. At first, it was hard for me to connect the music outside the restaurant with the girl inside, but we eventually figured out that she was going to all the people in range of the sound of her father's music and asking for donations.

After breakfast, we went home and had a swim before we drove to the east side of the island. One of the last stops we made on our last trip to Cozumel was a place called Chen Rio. At that time, we were greeted very warmly since we were the only customers in the whole place. The recent hurricane Emily had caused the closure of most of the road on the east side. As a result, nobody made it out to Chen Rio. We had some of the best Margaritas, chips and salsa ever. Today would be a little different.

Chen Rio was crowded today. We couldn't really find anything on the menu that we wanted to eat, but we did get a drink and some chips and salsa. On our way back to the car, we ran into a guy who immidiately looked familiar to me, but I couldn't place him. He started talking to Jillian and she said something back to him. He kept talking and then there was a moment of recognition for her and she waved goodbye to him as we made our way to our vehicle.

Jillian eventually explained what happened. This guy came up to her and said hi and asked if she recognized him. She then said "I don't *know* you." and he reminded her that he worked at La Parilla Mission. I looked up the road and I could see that he was getting into a car with his friends. Yep, that was definitely him.

We left and went further down the coast to a place called Playa Bonita. Ian ordered a drink called a "Blue Lagoon." Shelly and I made some Brooke Shields jokes that Ian didn't get. We liked the nachos there as well.

Two guys at Playa Bonita

At Playa Bonita, we met a friendly local guy named Christian, who enjoyed flirting with Jillian - they all seemed to. He was selling necklaces and we didn't buy anything. Later, we saw him out in the water with Ian and Jillian. He was body surfing and, of course, chatting with Jillian. Later she told me that he had invited her to a party tomorrow night. We'll have to see, but it doesn't sound too likely. Shelly seems a little squeamish.

Christian

Dzul Ha

The beach at Dzul Ha

I still remember what it felt like two years ago. My wife was calling out from the water near the shore. She sounded scared. She couldn’t seem to get out of the water. I thought she must have fallen and maybe hurt her leg because she wasn’t trying to stand up. I remember when I first saw the steel rod that had slipped under her flipper and stabbed her foot. I remember the rusty hole it left behind and a little blood, but not enough.

Two years later, we were standing in the water off the same beach. The specific area where Shelly was injured was roped off for some reason. There were some stairs carved out of the rock nearby that would serve as the entry point into the water.

The truth is that a lot had changed in those two years. The place was now called “The Money Bar” instead of its former, more authentic-sounding name “Dzul Ha.” Next to the bar and the beach chairs, they were building a large structure with a palapa roof. There was a massage area and more tables than I remember. Across the street, the jungle had been cut down and there was a new building, the function of which wasn’t obvious yet. The fact that there were bathrooms in this new building was an improvement from last time (don’t forget to leave a tip)

All of us went to bed early the night before, so we were up before 7:00. The maid Rosie comes at about 8:30 and we wanted to be up and moving before she got there. Besides, I was hungry.

Breakfast was at Rockin’ Java Caribbean café. The waiter flirted with Jillian for a while and took our order. He spoke English well and the food was great. This place has a really nice location right on the water front. You can watch the marines and sailors drill in the morning in the lot between the restaurant and the Caribbean Sea. Every day, there was at least one massive cruise ship in view as well. These boats rival aircraft carriers in overall displacement. The size of them is stunning.

We drove past our exit on the way to Dzul Ha and ended up driving well past the last beach club on the west shore. Eventually, we asked for directions and made our way to the right spot.

The water was fantastic. There were a lot of fish out there and there was a new project underway to supplement the reef with some large, bell-shaped objects with holes in them. These items were designed to seed coral growth and it looked as if they might be working. The fish seemed to love them as well.

We wound up spending about $100 on $7.00 margaritas plus beer and snacks today, but the salsa was great and the drinks were cold. We did a lot of swimming and both the girls got a little sunburned. I enjoyed watching Shell and the kids floating out there. They looked happy in the perfect blue water with the fish all around.

The water was perfect

We had dinner that night at a place called Café Dennis near the main plaza in San Miguel. We don’t really like all the barkers standing outside trying to get us to come into their restaurants. The hard sell is in full force downtown.

I ordered a dish called Pollo Pibil. It was half a chicken baked in a banana leaf with some herbs and spices in a tomato sauce. It tasted stew-like with the chicken being very tender. My vegetarianism had disappeared within the first 3 hours of being on the island. There really seemed to be few options for the non-meat eater. At least I figured I was getting an education by ordering something traditional.

By the end of the day, the girls were feeling a little overheated. Their burns were now looking more prominent and beginning to sting. We had brought along several tubes of sun block, most of it spf 30. We used a lot of the stuff today, but it apparently wasn’t enough. I’m not sure of the implications of this, but it looks like we have to be very careful if we don't want to turn to charcoal briquettes.

pdx-->cun

The way I remember it, I could always fall asleep when I needed to. I have slept in the woods, on airplanes, on buses, fold-out sofas, in the back of a 2 ½ ton truck or riding in cars. I have slept lying down and sitting up, twisted with my head against the wall or resting on my backpack. I considered it a gift. I still have that ability, but to a lesser extent than I remember.

Our plane took off around 10:00 PM on the night of the 24th, I packed very light for a week-long trip. I filled a back pack and brought a smaller book bag along. I fretted a lot over what to leave and what to bring. I worried about everything from my toothpaste to my 4-oz containers of contact solution. The maximum is supposed to be 3 oz. It turned out not to be a problem. I could bring everything on the plane in my backpack which is really a first for me. All my stuff fit well enough under the seat in front of me, but this made it a little hard to stretch my legs.

For comfort, I removed my contacts a little after take-off. The lights on the hills looked like shiny strands of costume jewelry. They would normally have appeared as tiny orange pin-points, but with the contacts out, they appeared as big, gaudy nuggets of gold strung together and draped along the dark landscape.

I slept fitfully in increments of about an hour. My ass was complaining and it was hard to get comfortable. The man sitting next to me in the aisle seat was 85 years old. He was spry though if anyone that age can be called spry. In fact, I doubted his claim. He told me he worked at Nordstrom and that he’d been in retail since 1945 but now he was retired. I realize now that I missed an opportunity to ask him a few more questions. For example, “What do you remember about WWII?”

We saw a carry-on bag for a dog on the flight. I never thought about that and it sure seems like risky business taking your dog along on a flight in a carry-on bag.

We arrived at Charlotte North Carolina at maybe a quarter to six in the morning local time. The shops were closed and we were starting to get hungry. With the help of an airport worker, we found a restaurant that was open. The woman who helped us had dark black skin and a deep southern accent and laughed aloud when my wife mentioned that we hadn't had grits before.

Breakfast in Charlotte was sort of funny. My son was the only one to actually order food at the place the woman recommended. He got bacon, biscuits and gravy and scrambled eggs. It seemed too greasy for my wife and it was definitely too meaty for me. I wound up with a egg and cheese bagel. Our daughter got something similar with ham as I recall. My wife got some sort of pizza sauce thing with cheese and veggies on it – but what she wanted was some of the Ian’s meal. Her pizza thing turned out to be a bit inappropriate for breakfast and we laughed about how she often orders new things that she dislikes. The secret must be that the mental image of what you are ordering should correspond somehow with the reality of what you are served. With Shelly, it often doesn't seem to happen that way. In the end, she got to share some of our son’s breakfast – which was probably plenty for two people anyway.

As our flight time approached, the gate started getting crowded. Suddenly, a woman arrived that got everyone’s attention. She was well over six feet tall in her heels. She had long, blond hair and a satin top covered in bright pink and red and brown and white. Beneath that were some of the shortest hot pants I have ever seen, though the effect was probably exaggerated by her overall height. The whole package was extremely conspicuous. It was as if she were ready to go dancing at the Charlotte airport at about 9:00 in the morning. Half the fun was watching other people do double takes as they caught sight of her. I decided to try to sneak a snapshot, which probably makes me some sort of weirdo, but I prefer to think it makes me the guy who thought to take a picture. So we get on the plane and take our seats and guess who sits down right next to my wife. Yep, miss hotpants herself. As a side note, she turned out to be Russian.



We landed in Cancun and took a taxi to Playa Del Carmen which, at $85, was cheaper for the four of us than a shuttle van would have been. We then took the ferry across to Cozumel and took a cab to Casa Colonial. By the time we got the rental car sorted out, it was pretty much time for dinner. We chose a restaurant we remembered fondly from two years before. It is called La Parilla Mission. They have a fairly standard selection of local chicken, beef and fish dishes. We like it because it is walking distance to Casa Colonial, plus they are consistently friendly to us.

One of the waiters there seemed to be flirting with our daughter Jillian. Her Spanish is very good and people seem to love asking her where she learned it. I know enough nouns to understand quite a bit, but she is comfortable using Spanish in many different situations.

Ian and Jill both seemed relaxed and everyone was pleased to be at our destination. It was a long travel day and nice to be able to unwind.

Ian at La Parilla Mission

secret world

I get the feeling sometimes that there are really two worlds. Of course, there is the one I always interact with. It is basically decent and full of wonders and dragonflies and the sound of jazz. This world has the polished look of a model home for a brand-new housing development.

The other world, the secret world, is actually the real world. I feel insulated from it most of the time. I work indirectly to insulate my family from it as well. The real world is an untidy place where all of the neat, rounded off numbers have to be reconciled to the last decimal place.

In a way, maybe we all participate in the secret world. We all do work that most people don't see. We smooth things over for others so they can get on with whatever it is they are doing, but I think there is a category of activities that are meant to be hidden from us so that we can believe they don't take place.

What I saw today was incongruous with the high-fructose world I live in day-to-day. It occurred when I was walking my dog from a vet checkup and I stopped while she sniffed at the sidewalk for a moment. I looked up at the vehicle next to me. It was a pickup truck with a camper top. The tailgate was open and there were several garbage bags in the back.

If I could sustain the belief that the sunset sky is really made of cotton candy, I might be tempted. Obviously, it would interfere with air travel and the fact that planes fly at dusk would present a problem for me.

On the other hand, if I wanted to believe that the loyal dog from my childhood really was taken to live out his days on a farm somewhere, there is not going to be obvious evidence refuting that idea. The guy who drives this truck is supposed to make sure of that.

Even the non-descript plastic bags of various sizes weren't overtly disturbing. I went right along and saw them only as non-descript garbage bags. The trouble was that one of these had a small tear. From this hole, there was a tan and white colored paw and foreleg extending perhaps five or six inches. Suddenly I the contents of the remaining bags revealed themselves as if I had x-ray vision.

Of course I am an adult. It makes perfect sense to me that this truck is performing a service that needs to be performed, but I can honestly say that I have never given very much time to the question of what happens to Rover after he is euthanized. I am sure the vet offers to "take care of the remains" and that a small charge is added to the bill for the service, but odds are good that even Rover's master doesn't think too hard about what that entails.

There are certainly less-trivial examples of this. It was just something I was clearly not meant to see. It brought to mind the layers of insulation we build up around ourselves as we try to function in our modern world