The ship let us out at the side of the dock early in the morning. The sounds of parrots squawking reached our ears as we strode down the gangway. A jumble of humanity at the border checkpoint, guards laconically standing with rifles haphazardly pointing this way and that. A friendly smile, then a wave through as we make our way into Mexico.
The taxi cabs are expensive at first, with prices dropping the further we move from the ship. A cab is hailed, we barter in broken Spanish, then "Si Senor" to an acceptable price of $15 dollars.
The cab has no seat belts, smoking is allowed and you can talk to your hearts content while driving fast with one hand on the wheel. In short freedom to live dangerously.
The road to the hotel twists along the hot and humid coast. We drive through an old part of town called La Zona Romantica. A bit dilapidated, with tropical vegetation snaking through the wrought iron fences that surround the balconies. A place where one could happily go to seed. A world weary drunk could lie down in a garden bed and simply not get up. A rather morose thought - the tropics bring out the best in the me.
We arrive at the hotel and quickly partake of its finest amenities - sun, sand, surf and endless mojitos. A mojito is summer distilled into a drink.
The day flashes past in a blur. Images of beer and the past well up. Random discussions on how to make this day eternal.
Too soon the sun slips into the sea. We slip into a cab then into the boat. Time to return to reality.
The taxi cabs are expensive at first, with prices dropping the further we move from the ship. A cab is hailed, we barter in broken Spanish, then "Si Senor" to an acceptable price of $15 dollars.
The cab has no seat belts, smoking is allowed and you can talk to your hearts content while driving fast with one hand on the wheel. In short freedom to live dangerously.
The road to the hotel twists along the hot and humid coast. We drive through an old part of town called La Zona Romantica. A bit dilapidated, with tropical vegetation snaking through the wrought iron fences that surround the balconies. A place where one could happily go to seed. A world weary drunk could lie down in a garden bed and simply not get up. A rather morose thought - the tropics bring out the best in the me.
We arrive at the hotel and quickly partake of its finest amenities - sun, sand, surf and endless mojitos. A mojito is summer distilled into a drink.
The day flashes past in a blur. Images of beer and the past well up. Random discussions on how to make this day eternal.
Too soon the sun slips into the sea. We slip into a cab then into the boat. Time to return to reality.
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