Time to take on a fresh concept with my highly neglected blog. This year presents a concentration on eateries and travel in combination with a healthy lifestyle.
Although my ideal new year’s resolution would be to become a highly-functioning alcoholic, in reality, I hope to concentrate more on my studies (to help ensure I don’t kill anyone when they finally give me a license to practice), and lose the 10 pounds I have gained over the past year so I can stop ripping the seat out of my cargo pants. (yes, that really did happen a few weeks ago)
As I write this, my beloved and I are taking a second class bus from Merida to Celestun, Mexico, which is quite relaxing, despite being the only “gringos” on the bus. It seems as if the other passengers are practicing for the “local staring contest”---perhaps out of fear because R looks exactly like the son of Pablo Escobar.
It’s been an interesting adventure in getting here. For those of you who know me, when I either a) don’t get my way or b) get hungry, or c)feel like I’m getting scammed, then I can turn into a “mega-puta.” On this trip, we had to fly into Cancun in order to get to the West side of the Yucatan where the swindling began upon arrival. After arriving several hours late (tired and hungry), we tried to grab a (shared) taxi, and the cheapest taxi was $30 (each) to go 2 miles to the local Bus Terminal. As six of us piled into the taxi, I soon realized we weren’t going anywhere near the bus terminal and we were on to the hotels at the beach (10 miles from airport). (side note: My Spanish is the equivalent of an 8 year old----verb conjugation is not my strong suit---with a bunch of Spanish SAT words thrown in.) When I asked the driver what was happening, he explained that he needed to go to the hotels first---this did not bode well with me. Therefore, I began arguing with him about how it made more sense to first go to the bus terminal. (For the two Spanish speaking passengers in the taxi, this had to be hilarious because I was talking like an 8 year old while throwing in various Scrabble-words in every other sentence.) On a high note, I won my case and he then took us to the bus station with (literally) 5 minutes to spare to catch the last bus of the night to Merida.
First class bus ride to Merida = 4 hours of much-needed sleep and arriving at the best hotel I’ve ever stayed in while traveling through Mexico.
More to come about the food and hot spots in the lovely city of Merida, Mexico.
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