Mellow Days

It’s been a pretty tame week really. We get up and work out. I swim laps or power walk, Joe does his work-out and runs, swims, or walks with me. Bill joined the gym. He loves it. I think he likes all the cute girls there, but he swears the equipment is great.

I love my early morning walk along 5^th Ave. All the workers are busy preparing for the insane crowds. The scuba shops are a bustle of activity, as they load the tanks on the pick-up trucks to be transported to the beach and carried by hand the rest of the way. Starbucks has its usual crowd of coffee addicts. At the end of the street the giant jet ferry spits out its tourists from the cruise ships docked at Cozumel. They line up about 3 wide and 50 yards long. I wonder where they’re going?

Our plan is to take the ferry over to Cozumel and wander around today. It’ll be a nice change of scenery. I mean you can only take so much pristine white sand beaches, friendly waiters at beach bars, massages under fluttery white tents, and warm salty water. We are suffering here people!

Our one big adventure was a couple of days ago when we realized our glass door to our patio would occasionally lock itself. We became very cautious about not shutting the door when we were all out on the patio. So Joe comes out onto the patio and shuts the door behind him. Our eyes must have become as big as saucers because he spun around and tried the door, and sure enough it was locked. Bill went up onto the rooftop terrace to see what our options were while Joe and I did the international ‘Holy Crud’ arm waving to the guard 4 stories below us. After about five minutes of this he glanced up and saw us. It was comical as he stared at us, then he looked over his shoulder to see whom we could be waving to. He pointed to himself and we mimed ‘Yes’. So he came from the beach to stand under us and try to figure out what we needed. Not easy since I didn’t know how to say “We are locked out of our condo, and I’m going to have to use the bathroom soon.” He, smart guy that he is, figured it out and called for help. In the meantime Bill talked our neighbors into letting him climb over the rooftop terrace divider, come down their stairs, and walk through their condo. Good thing too, cause the staff didn’t have a key yet. Bill miraculously did. Now we have a key hidden on the patio and a wine cork in the door runner when we’re out there.

A storm blew in the first couple of days we were here. It tore loose an enormous amount of seaweed, which is now on our beach. Every day a team of men arrive with pitch forks and wheelbarrows to haul it away. I’m glad because it smells yucky and is gross to wade through.

We found our favorite restaurants; cheap one is Tacos Arabe on a back street.

Expensive one is at our condo called Wickys. Wickys has great burgers, and is directly on the beach.

Favorite bars; Zenzi’s also on the beach, therefore expensive. All of their staff wear shorts and are barefoot.

The other is Santanaros up on Fifth. They have beer for 15 pesos, which is only about $1.25. And that’s for all kinds. Joe’s favorite is Bohemia Oscura. It’s usually about 45 pesos. What attracted us to this bar (besides the price and the terrace) was an amazing 30 foot tall neon sign of Jesus as a DJ with a sign under him saying “You are Forgiven”. As it turns out they are just letting you know you can sin all you want in their bar.

Joe and I locked ourselves out of our room again this morning. This time we were outside, so we hung out at the pool waiting for Bill to come back. I’m detecting a theme here.