Finally Getting Out of PA
I have been finding it very challenging to contrive subjects about which to write. What we started as a fun retirement project to document our travels to anyone who might have a shared interest, has morphed into something more like a real-time autobiography - more stream of consciousness and less travel update. And as such, I can’t help but question the reader’s level of interest. It’s one thing to describe one’s journey to the beautiful island of Bequia and quite another to wax convincingly about the joys of condo life in Puerto Aventuras. Nonetheless, I’ll labor on.
Since Memorial Day Lydia and I have been able to venture out more often and to destinations other than Chedraui (supermarket) and Sam’s. We have been to Akumal several times, once on a 3-night visit. We also recently journeyed all the way to the other side of Playa del Carmen to spend 2 nights at the sumptuous Royal Haciendas resort. This is particularly noteworthy because it’s roughly twice as far away as Akumal – 15 minutes vs. 30. Earlier this week we accompanied some friends to the Jardin del Eden cenote, which lies in the jungle halfway between PA and Akumal. And as I write this, I believe Lydia and our friend Laine are putting together a trip to Holbox to see the whale sharks. That’s a small island off the north coast and all the way on the far side of Cancun – a major adventure that will be documented accordingly.
Though Covid continues to wreak havoc through Mexico in general and in Quintana Roo – the state government just announced that the southern part of Qroo was going back into lockdown – residents of PA resort are beginning to stretch their legs. We have participated in a few local activities: a locals sail on Catamaya, trivia night at Latitude 20 and live music at both Nauti Burro and Café Ole. It has been fun seeing people we haven’t seen and being able to socialize with those we have seen, but in different locales. But now, in mid-July, another element has tossed some colder water on our small adventures. Tourists are returning.
While in the midst of our trivia competition at Latitude, a group of 10 or 15 lily-white Americans, sans masks, tried to gain entrance. Thankfully, Claudia, the manager, was able to turn them away. Masks are required on entry and no tables are allowed with more than four people. On our second sail aboard Catamaya in a week, passengers were a mix or locals and tourists. Though there were only 20 guests on a boat that can hold 3 times that number, the ten or so young people, fresh off the plane from the U.S., became intent, after who knows how many cocktails, on partying. While Lydia and I were able to keep our distance, we felt for the crew members who still had to serve the carefree crowd. Though I couldn’t help but smile at the fun they were having, I was quite shaken by their total disregard of us older, more vulnerable folk. It was more thoughtless than malicious, but scary to think about the thousands of similar happenings back in the states that have led to the resurgence of the virus.
I have no workable solution for this, other than to avoid tourists as much as possible. This area is totally dependent on vacationers, and the vast majority of them are from the States. Maybe Europe, with an infinitely more diverse economy and visitors from all over the world, can ban Americans, Mexico can’t. What’s more, the type of people getting on planes to fly to a hot zone are not the cautious visitors one might welcome. Instead, this initial burst of foreign activity is most likely made up of people who either feel invulnerable or those who don’t take Covid seriously. In either case, we plan to stay out of their way. And, in fact, the day after our second cruise aboard Catamaya, the company announced it will no longer offer public sailings – meaning you must be part of a group charter.
We can also report the return of tourists to Akumal. Over the last month we have gone from being literally the only people snorkeling in Akumal Bay, to being castigated by a snorkeling guide for swimming on the wrong side of the rope. That was disappointing. Though we haven’t strayed from our good friend Laura’s property – she owns Hotel Akumal Caribe and Lolha Restaurant – it’s been great being back. After 22 years of visits, I’m finally coming to grips with my indifferent relationship with this small, waterfront community. Now that we’re close enough for short visits, and no longer having any interest in anything deeper, Akumal is fun again. And now that tourists are back on the beach, I’m sure we’ll begin to see what’s going on in other parts of town.
Probably the highlight so far post-lockdown was our trip to Royal Haciendas. Just 30 minutes up the road, it seemed a world away from our little condo on the canal. Our friends, Jill and Jim – who live in PA and Chelem, and were more acquaintances before our stay – had been in residence for several weeks as the resort was just beginning to reopen. Needless to say, the staff treated them like rock stars and that status rubbed off on us. Now, I don’t think I’d enjoy myself as much at full occupancy, but at 18% it was wonderful. The attentiveness, the empty beach and swimming pools, not to mention the comfortable spacing of the dining tables. A high-end all-inclusive with a well-trained, gracious staff was the perfect remedy for a little touch of condo fever. To add to our comfort, we had the lock-off bedroom attached to Jill and Jim’s condo/suite, so we were able to enjoy the kitchen, living room and large deck for coffee in the morning and cocktails before dinner. A great getaway.
Lastly, I’d like to say something truly obvious about cenotes: they’re very refreshing. Yes, I’ve been in cenotes before, though surprisingly few as Lydia pointed out that we had never been in the Yucatan during the summer. To say that it’s hot down here would be an understatement. Off the water, a mile down a rugged dirt road in the jungle it’s tortuously hot and buggy. Cenote water is cool, quite cool. So when Lydia, Laine, Bob and I hit the water in Jardin del Eden cenote it was a special moment, after the squealing subsided. In fact, the beauty of the place, the cliffs cutting deep into the water, the dark green vegetation reflecting on its surface was mesmerizing. I don’t think I said more than a few words the whole time we were in the water. There will be more cenotes in our summertime future.
We’re finding new things to do and we’re seeing old things through new eyes. Right now there are fewer obstacles between us and the natural world, fewer distractions. We plan to take advantage of this time to learn more about what’s important and how to find a more meaningful balance in our lives. One way or another, the pandemic is going to change us all. Here’s hoping we can embrace that change.