G-man stayed up way too late one night and cranked out a big ol' blog about our trip, sapping my desire to sit here and crank out a big ol' nother blog on the same subject. So before I read his, here's what struck me about our little jaunt. First off, we didn't want to come back*. I like being on vacation, even when I'm a lazy, part-time-working so-and-so as it is. For one thing, dressing up meant wearing shoes. For another, even though I'm not a smoker, it sure was hospitable for the posada's welcome wagon to roll up and offer us a couple of spliffs. And the water, even though it had a substantial undertow, was warm, warm, warm. And unlike warm southern Californian water, it was jellyfish-free. The cherry on top? Enough ex-pat Italians so that we ate and drank very, very well. Better food and coffee than we have in Oaxaca! (Mexican food excepted, of course. Nobody rocks like the Tamale Lady.)
Imagine taking your pet on vacation: finding a place that accepts pets, maybe negotiating for or paying a security deposit. Not here, baby! Daniel, the owner, even said she could have the run of the place as long as she'd leave his pet parrot alone. But between the parrot -- Izzy is a lousy hunter, but still -- and the dogs and the coatimundi, we left her in the room. Fine by her.
*We really didn't want to come back to a life of shoes and pants and underwear. You know, that's the first time that G and I have vacationed at the beach together. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that, being a California girl and all. And we had fun goofing off in the surf together. We also really didn't want to drive that road again, either. I think we're agreed, next time we go we'll take one of the numerous shuttle vans between the city and the coast. And when we got back and I checked my e-mail and cleared off the two-hundred or so offers for LOW, LOW RATES on my mortgage, I found a short message from work: my Wednesday morning class was rescheduled. And when I came into work to do a couple of things, I found that they got mixed up on the dates that I'd be out of the country, so I don't have any classes until Saturday morning. Ah, it's good to be back.
Imagine taking your pet on vacation: finding a place that accepts pets, maybe negotiating for or paying a security deposit. Not here, baby! Daniel, the owner, even said she could have the run of the place as long as she'd leave his pet parrot alone. But between the parrot -- Izzy is a lousy hunter, but still -- and the dogs and the coatimundi, we left her in the room. Fine by her.
*We really didn't want to come back to a life of shoes and pants and underwear. You know, that's the first time that G and I have vacationed at the beach together. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that, being a California girl and all. And we had fun goofing off in the surf together. We also really didn't want to drive that road again, either. I think we're agreed, next time we go we'll take one of the numerous shuttle vans between the city and the coast. And when we got back and I checked my e-mail and cleared off the two-hundred or so offers for LOW, LOW RATES on my mortgage, I found a short message from work: my Wednesday morning class was rescheduled. And when I came into work to do a couple of things, I found that they got mixed up on the dates that I'd be out of the country, so I don't have any classes until Saturday morning. Ah, it's good to be back.
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