Mexico Vacation 2010: Day 1

In February my wife and I took a week-long vacation to the Riviera Maya- the Caribbean Coast of Mexico. We stayed at the Gran Bahia Principe Akumal Resort about an hour south of Cancun. Through this next week or so I am blogging about the trip and our experiences.
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I love traveling. Or some may call it being a tourist. No matter which. I enjoy getting out of the daily routines and finding new things and new places. It is even more interesting when it can be to a different country or unusual place where there is much to see.

Living in Minnesota, winter can get really long. Back in December we decided that we would take a trip south- to Mexico- for a mid-winter break. We checked with our trusted and trusty travel agent who recommended a number of places. We were drawn to the Gran Bahia Principe Coba resort about an hour south of Cancun. It is an all-inclusive with plenty of rooms and lots of food.

Okay. Just by going to an all-inclusive I know I was setting myself fully in the tourist camp. I was going to all the comforts of home and then some. I knew I was going to be "sheltered" and in a cocoon of comfort. But vacations are also about reflection and relaxation. I always like to have places to write and time to just read. This was to be a sit in one place and look out and in for some insights into life.

That, I believe, can be one of the great advantages of any kind of travel if you are willing to do it with some openness to what is happening around you. Just being away from your normal routines and "things" is enough to open possibilities for seeing your own life in a different light. Whenever- and wherever- I go I try to let myself do that.

And let me tell you, to leave snowy Minneapolis with the temps around 0 degrees F. and get off the plane into warm humid Caribbean Mexico will jolt you. Then to realize that Cancun is not all that far from the US comes home real quick.

You realize that perhaps Bentonville, Arkansas is never far away.

Which of course leads to reflecting on materialism and other such things.

But not now. This is vacation.

(Well, you have to get there first.)

Which is a story in itself. You realize that for some people (probably myself included) we bring ourselves along on our vacation. There was a group of gentlemen in the van with us as we headed south toward relaxation. They were from the east coast (the Philly-NJ-New York corridor) on a guys week out. As I listened it was probably more a wives week of peace at home. Two of them in particular were the centers of attention. They worked hard at keeping the attention on them.

First was the joker. Once he started with his jokes, there was no stopping him. Each joke started as if he were telling about an incident that happened at home with his wife or mother-in-law or daughter. (Yes, they were always women!) The punchline was never a surprise to me. I couldn't believe it but I had heard every one of the jokes before. At least he was (sort of) funny. Entertaining, anyway.

Then there was the loud-mouthed American behind me, also one of the group of six. He fit the old uncouth, uncultured tourist of every traveling nightmare. In his Philly-New York accent he mispronounced every Spanish word he spoke. (Playa del Carmen became Playa da Carmel.) He never paid attention to anyone else. He talked about the booze he had with him which he got at duty-free before leaving the US. He kept offering to open it and pass it around. His friends ignored him and he never did open it.

Fortunately they were dropped off about 25 minutes before us. I wanted to say to our driver, "Hey. He's not really a good example of our country." But I have a hunch he already knew that. At least I hope so- and I hope the guy was at least a good tipper.

For me, though what was most interesting at this point was an internal change since the last time I was in a Spanish-speaking country. That was in April 2002 when we went to visit our daughter who was studying in Spain. We spent two weeks there and I was mentally and emotionally lost. I knew no Spanish even though I had tried some "community education" classes a number of years earlier. That whole trip, while wonderful and exciting (pictures on Flickr) I felt left out of much of what was happening. I needed help from my daughter or depended on the English knowledge of the local residents.

A year or so later I started taking Spanish at a language school in Minneapolis. I got all the way through all their classes and became fair at reading Spanish. I have never gotten the hang of speaking Spanish. I have not taken the ongoing opportunities to be in regular conversations. But I felt some comfort now as we drove along toward the resort.

I first found myself being able (and willing) to say "hello" and "thank you" in Spanish which I felt was the least I could do. I then noticed the signs which I realized I was reading, not just staring at. I knew what they said even if I didn't know every word.

Okay. That one doesn't count.

As the week progressed I found myself actually having short, simple conversations in Spanish. I would answer the waiter in Spanish and ask for what I wanted in Spanish. For me it was a way of saying that I respect their language and culture. On our second night, for example, we went to one of the fine restaurants at the resort and ended up learning some things from the waiter's assistant about himself and what he wanted in his life which he could not have told us in English.

We got to our room about 3:00 in the afternoon after leaving our motel in Minneapolis around 5:00 am. What a way to begin as we looked out the balcony toward the pool area just beyond us.

A little walk around the right side of the pool above and you can see the relaxation just waiting to surround you and the tropical sun to warm our poor cold skin.


Actually before even looking out the balcony just a glance at the bed and you knew you were in a place that understood customer satisfaction. A swan "sculpture" made of a towel. There would be more during the week.


A walk doesn't have to be long to see the lizard life-
the first of many iguanas that we would cross paths with.

But what caught my attention from the start was the songs of the birds. Many different birds. I never did see many of them. They were always somewhere out there singing and greeting people, each other, and who knows what. I did manage to find this one in a pause between songs.


The area of the Mexican coast we were staying in is known as the Riviera Maya, the Mayan Riviera, reflecting the tourist element within the ancient Maya culture that gives this area a rich history and heritage. The use of traditional Maya art and architecture is common in many of the resorts. Again, it is for tourists, make no mistake about that. But I have to admit it gave a certain ambiance that I think helped get me out of the routine of home. (Walking around in shorts and sandals in February helped, too.)


But there was never any doubt that we were not in an ancient culture or lodging. We are in "luxury."

And at the end of a long travel day for an out-of-shape pair of aging Baby Boomers, that was just what we needed. I didn't realize how much that would have an impact. But that's for later.

Over the next week or so I will be posting about each day of the trip and some of my reflections. I see everything I do as a pilgrimage- or at least as part of my greater pilgrimage through the ins and outs of my life. I have a hunch that to look at life in that way is one method of deepening awareness so when those moments of insight and growth pop-up, I will be less likely to miss them.

More coming. Hasta la vista.