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16/7 – The one-eye-open thrill ride to the airport went off without a hitch and was soon followed by a nap in place of what would normally be known as sleep. At 8 we got back up and took Chacha to the car doctor, across the main highway to old Puerto Morelos. After exchanging keys and numbers we got a lift into the main square by the pier and had a respectable breakfast of Huevos Rancheros. Sharon has suckered me in to this “Find the country’s best huevos rancheros” saga, even though there are plenty of other Mexican breakfast items I prefer. Still, tasty morning chow.
We found a cab and made it back to the now Chacha-less house for nap #2. Around 11, I awoke to some foreign ring tone of a faintly familiar Mexican folk dance tune. It was our “Mexico – local calls only” cell phone, provided by the house and on the other end was Ricardo’s help guy. It appears we have both power steering problem (which is why we took her in in the first place) and a serious transmission leak. “You’re gonna need more Pesos, hombre,” he retorted. Evidently they need parts in Cancun and we won’t have a car for at least a day. Now I’m not writing this to freak out critical family members, (you know who you are and the rest of you shouldn’t point. It’s rude). All is fine is Las Mealsland. It’s just part of the adventure. In fact not having the car resulted in Sharon getting in no less than 15 hours of sleep today and I managed to NOT polish off the rest of the tequila. But I have experienced excessive computer time along with catching a number of classic movies in Spanish.
17/7 – Ok, no car. Lets sleep most of the day! Lord knows we need it. Otherwise it’s cab day. We walked down the dirt road to the nearest taxi stand. Took it into the main square in P.Mo. (that’s Puerto Morelos in rap speak). Hung out at Habinero’s street bar; supposedly the bar the Americans hang at. Evidently it’s the Americans that can’t hold their alcohol place. I was embarrassed to be the whitefly on the wall. We scooted away after a couple of rounds to the zocalo and discovered a small but respectable city party. Arts, crafts, pre-recorded authentic Mexican music. We found better entertainment watching a pick-up game of soccer behind the p.a. Oh well, still entertaining for some gringos with no wheels.
18/7 – Groundhogs day. No car. Let’s take a nap.
19/7 – Ok, this no car thing is… like having no car. (From point “A“). It’s time we took travel matters into our own hands. We cabbed down to the square, took a “collectivo” (public “cheap” bus) to “La Colonia”, (Old P.M.), which is 3 km away (Point “B“), caught another collectivo to Cancun and found that we had no idea where we were. We were in Cancun centro, (Point “C”) not the hotel zone. That my friends, is a good thing. So what is the plan? Hop on another bus. Brilliant!! Don’t know where we went. Don’t know where we are. Don’t know nada, (Point “D”). However, it’s a cheap ride to see parts of Cancun that most people probably would not / should not visit. We did. Not freaking out (again).
*** Special Activity ***
Get a blank piece of paper and a pencil. From this point on, do not lift your pencil. Place a dot one inch from the bottom and one inch from the right side. That’s point “A”, our house. Draw a half inch squiggly line from the dot towards the bottom of the page. That’s the 1km dirt road to the house. From there, draw a straight line 1½ inches to the left. That’s the road to the federal highway, (Point “B“,Later you can throw in a couple of doodles of crocodiles; small ones). Now, draw a straight line to one inch from the top of the paper, then a gently curved line, two inches to the left. You are now at Point “C”, downtownCancun. Ok, with a firm grip on your pencil, allow your hand to go into a convulsive fit. That’s the route to point “D”. Do all that again in reverse order and you will find home. Now throw in the little crocodiles.
20/7 – The collectivo thing is a nice cheap adventure. So we did it all again except went the opposite way on the federal highway towards Playa del Carmen, that is, AFTER we stopped in again at el mechanico. All he could say was “Lunes!” (Monday). Sharon & I, as a couple, are soooooo patient. Individually, there could have been blood. Off to Playa del Carmen. The collectivo basically drops you off conveniently near the hot spot of 5th avenue, with only a short walk past some stores and Edwardo, the “I got what you want gringo” dealer. If I didn’t mention it earlier, 5th ave. in Playa del Carmen is a people watcher’s paradise. This is where the sublime and the “W.T.F.?” merge. Lovely, bronzed muses mix with hair-braided Honey Boo-boos. Eye candy meets eye infection. We took it all in while we sipped 2 for 1 margaritas and snacked, listened to the house band at Karen’s. The house band was one of those “authentic” Peruvian pan flute groups, complete with drum machine.
21/7 – I got a message that our dear friend Cecillio was now in town, or at least in Playa del Carmen. So today started off much like yesterday. We met him at a grocery store on the outskirts of Playa. While waiting , we were entertained by a security guard chasing a kid that stole a bottle of tequila, (I could tell it was a kid because it wasn’t a tequila worth stealing. I‘m just sayin‘). Cecillio picked us up and we went to his daughter Arianna’s house, know as the “House of the PregnantOne”. I don’t know how she does it (rhetorical, not literal) but I haven ever seen her NOT pregnant. She’s getting ready to have her second child but the woman must gestate for 36 months. However, to her credit, she makes a mean Bistec Ranchero and sizzling green hot sauce. The four of us snacked and Cecillio and I sipped a few mescals. Soon after Rachel (daughter # 2) and her husband Giancarlo (Canadian with a Paul Shaffer haircut. Paul is also Canandian but … I just felt the need to point that out). Secret plans were made and before we knew it, the entire clan with a couple of kids thrown in, ventured off to… to…um, a beach with no name. Some day soon, corporate Mexico will come along and destroy this beautiful combination of spring fed, cool cenote water that flows into the Caribbean, but, thankfully, not yet. We sat in the cooler fresh water for a couple of hours and sipped on cups of beer that Cecillio kept from ever running dry. Giancarlo’s perfect English and Rachel’s charming twist on English made for delightful conversation. Next time folks, this is a “must visit” beach; slightly challenging to get to but worth the journey. Plans were made for the entire gang to BBQ Mexican style at our house this Thursday.
22/7 – Sharon and I are determined to stay home, listen to the waves and hope for the sound of the “Latin ring tone”, which should be Ricardo – “El Mechanico”, calling us to tell us Chacha is ready to come home. I’m going to make breakfast and wait. It’s day 8 of no car and day 33 of no Bruno.
