To get to Mexico from Wyoming, one must endure no fewer than three plane rides of varying lengths. For us, we drove two hours to Casper, WY, then from Casper to Salt Lake City, UT to Los Angeles, CA (definitely in my top 5 Worst Airports of All Time) to Cancun, at which time we hopped in a van for the two-hour ride to our Cabana in Tulum. When we checked in, the guy at the desk 1) heard me say that our name was “Pardo” and immediately began speaking Spanish (after he had greeted us in English) and 2) asked us how long we had been traveling, to which we paused awkwardly, counting the hours, and came up with something like 12 hours of travel time, not counting our layover in LA that including margaritas along with an exuberant and happily drunk chic on her way to Buenos Aires.
But once at our destination, we were greeted with a candle-lit cabana, cool ocean breezes, and a bottle of wine. We found some grub (and yes, we ate the vegetables, cooked or not; hmmm…) at a local dive down the street, which was also fated to have no electricity this time of night. Candles lit the tables and the bar, and tiki torches led the way to hammocks should you feel the need for a sleep.
We spent the night of the full moon outside in the warmth and humidity, listening to waves and wind and the rustle of palm fronds, and watching thick, heavy Caribbean clouds roll in from the sea and careen over and around us. Every once in a while, we could feel a spit of rain from rainstorms that were destined for somewhere else…
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