Water Fun-House and the Best Cheese Pizza Ever!
We arrived in Mexico and lived happily ever after. The end.
Bahahahaha!!! JUST KIDDING!
Before we even got to Mexico we got some great news at our departure gate in Orlando: after being checked in without comment, we were told that we could not board the plane to Cancun unless we had tickets out of Mexico.
We had purchased one-way tickets as we were not sure of our plans.... but according to Jetblue, that is a no-no. But -surprise!!!- they only tell you that right when you get to the gate, looking at your boarding passes and confusedly asking "um....why are there no seat numbers on these???" By that time I was all doped up on Lorazepam, so I wouldn't stroke-out from fear. But I got on my smartphone and booked four random tickets from Cancun to Miami, for a random date. It's only 682 non-refundable dollars, no biggie. Thanks, Jetblue, I know we'll become best friends.
By the way, Orlando airport is creepy. It's completely populated by angry 4-year-olds wearing mouse ears. Poppy and Maia thought it was cool because it was Disney-themed. We didn't tell them that's because it's so close to the Magic Kingdom itself......so cruel.
Poor, sweet, gullible children....
Anyhoo, I made it through 90 white-knuckled minutes and we landed in Cancun, safe and sound. We took an airport transfer to our hotel, left our luggage locked up and went out to explore. We ate lunch, had a long swim in the hotel pool, and then took the bus out to Puerto Morelos to see my brother, Peter and his family. The bus stop is walking distance to Peter's house, but by the time the bus pulled in to Puerto Morelos is was raining buckets. We took shelter at a supermarket near the bus stop and I made the first of many phone calls to my brother asking for help and/or advice. He picked us up a few minutes later and we had a great barbeque at his house while all the young cousins played, regardless of language or cultural barriers.
The next day we spent another similar day in Cancun, ending once again with a visit to Peter's place, where he had to pick us up again due to torrential rain.
Oh yeah....did I mention we arrived in the middle of the rainy season? When people think of the weather in Cancun they think of leaving the frosty North and arriving in a sunny paradise. But we left Canada at the most beautiful time of year, weather-wise, and landed smack-dab in the middle of the hot, humid, stormy, hurricane season. But hey, at least it's usually sunny during the morning, so rainstorms often coincide with siesta time, which isn't too terrible.
Unless you have stuff to DO. Long-winded, frustrating stuff, like picking your dog, who flew solo from Toronto to Cancun, up from Mexican Customs.
I will spare you the details about this ordeal because, frankly, I'm not ready to talk about it yet. But suffice it to say it started with all 4 of us bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, optimistically showing up at the airport at the same time that Lizey's flight arrived, ready to welcome our happy little dog and sail off to Merida in no time. We took Peter up on his offer to join us there in case we needed help with language, and also brought along the guy giving us a ride to Merida, so that way we could just hop in the car and go once we had Lizey. (By the way, the guy giving us a ride aka The Most Patient Man in the World was Chris Zimmermann of Zim Zoom Transportation. See him if you need airport transfers or a private driver in the Yucatan)
It ended 4 and a half hours later after only a couple of minor nervous breakdowns on my part. Luckily Louis, the girls and The Most Patient Man in the World were able to hang out in the air-conditioned terminal while my saint of a brother and I ran back and forth between Livestock inspection offices and the hot, sunny cargo/customs yard trying to bust Lizey out of customs jail. For almost 5 hours.
So.
Much.
Paperwork.
*shudder*
Here I am looking cool, calm, collected and not at all sweaty after finally picking Lizey up. (I don't know about you but I think I pull off the orange safety vest beautifully. I'm thinking of picking one up to add to my wardrobe.) We are still 5 minutes away from getting the final stamped paper that says we can proceed through the exit in this picture but Lizey is already pulling hard towards the gate. She was R.E.A.D.Y. to leave.
We arrived in Merida just as it was getting dark, dropped our luggage inside the beautiful, colonial house we had rented through airbnb, and contemplated just going to sleep right there and then. But no, we hadn't eaten much except a few $38 Starbucks sandwiches from the airport all day, and we needed food. So we googled a nearby pizza place and headed out the door to walk the few blocks to get there. We wandered into this tiny takeaway pizza place, in the most un-touristy part of town, and I used my rusty Spanish to try to order something that the girls wouldn't find "weird." Done. 20 minutes and we would have two hot pizzas to bring home.
So we wandered a bit. Maia spotted a stand where they sell churros and marquesitas - a kind of big, crispy crepe that gets spread with something sweet like Nutella or caramel and then rolled up into a long cigar shape. It had been a long day, so I thought the girls deserved some "dessert before dinner." As we headed over to the stand, the skies opened up and yet another torrential downpour began. I ducked under the marquesita stand's awning and stood in uncomfortably close proximity to the man making the marquesitas while he awkwardly went about his business. Louis and the girls took shelter in the gazebo of the adjacent square.
Standing under the Gazebo eating a warm, Nutella-y snack while rain buckets down is pretty nice, actually. But as we were licking our fingers the rain started to come down harder. And harder. It was time to pick up our pizzas and the rain was showing no sign of letting up. So out of the gazebo we ran, as fast as we could back to the pizza place. We paid, gathered up our two delicious-smelling cardboard boxes, and just decided to brave the rain to get back to our rental home as fast as we could. We wanted to go fast but we kept yelling at the girls to be careful, as the sidewalks were so uneven. Sidewalks in Merida are, shall we say, informally built. Ranging from wide walkways to 8-inch wide ledges, a ramp here, a few steps leading up or down there, lots of cracks and potholes and random piles of building materials. Also, there is no drainage, so every few minutes you get a full soaker up to the knee. I was stepping up and down so much I remarked to Louis "it's like trying to walk in a fun house!" I didn't really mean this in a joyful way, but Maia and Poppy heard me and shouted ecstatically: "Yeah!!!! It's like a water fun-house!!!! Yay!!!!!!!"
Drenched to the bone, hungry, tired, only one layer of nearly soaked cardboard between our much-needed pizza and oblivion. We had every reason to feel down. But how can you feel anything but happy when these two little girls who have just been forced to spend nearly 5 hours doing nothing in an airport, then almost 5 hours in a car, then to march them out into the rain to get pizza, are just loving life in the way only 6-year-olds can???
We arrived back at our house, stripped off our soaked shoes and clothes, and tucked into our slightly damp pizza. "Mmm-mmm. This is the best cheese pizza I ever had!" said Poppy, taking a second slice.
What a way to kick off our year in Merida. As days go, it was an incredibly difficult one, but it was also good. And a good reminder: it's easy to be content when everything is going your way. But to find joy in the crummy situations, well, you might just want to take a page out of Poppy and Maia's book. Next time you are disappointed because it's raining, get up, go out, and look for your own "water fun-house." Enjoy!
Bahahahaha!!! JUST KIDDING!
Before we even got to Mexico we got some great news at our departure gate in Orlando: after being checked in without comment, we were told that we could not board the plane to Cancun unless we had tickets out of Mexico.
We had purchased one-way tickets as we were not sure of our plans.... but according to Jetblue, that is a no-no. But -surprise!!!- they only tell you that right when you get to the gate, looking at your boarding passes and confusedly asking "um....why are there no seat numbers on these???" By that time I was all doped up on Lorazepam, so I wouldn't stroke-out from fear. But I got on my smartphone and booked four random tickets from Cancun to Miami, for a random date. It's only 682 non-refundable dollars, no biggie. Thanks, Jetblue, I know we'll become best friends.
By the way, Orlando airport is creepy. It's completely populated by angry 4-year-olds wearing mouse ears. Poppy and Maia thought it was cool because it was Disney-themed. We didn't tell them that's because it's so close to the Magic Kingdom itself......so cruel.
Poor, sweet, gullible children....
Anyhoo, I made it through 90 white-knuckled minutes and we landed in Cancun, safe and sound. We took an airport transfer to our hotel, left our luggage locked up and went out to explore. We ate lunch, had a long swim in the hotel pool, and then took the bus out to Puerto Morelos to see my brother, Peter and his family. The bus stop is walking distance to Peter's house, but by the time the bus pulled in to Puerto Morelos is was raining buckets. We took shelter at a supermarket near the bus stop and I made the first of many phone calls to my brother asking for help and/or advice. He picked us up a few minutes later and we had a great barbeque at his house while all the young cousins played, regardless of language or cultural barriers.
The next day we spent another similar day in Cancun, ending once again with a visit to Peter's place, where he had to pick us up again due to torrential rain.
Oh yeah....did I mention we arrived in the middle of the rainy season? When people think of the weather in Cancun they think of leaving the frosty North and arriving in a sunny paradise. But we left Canada at the most beautiful time of year, weather-wise, and landed smack-dab in the middle of the hot, humid, stormy, hurricane season. But hey, at least it's usually sunny during the morning, so rainstorms often coincide with siesta time, which isn't too terrible.
Unless you have stuff to DO. Long-winded, frustrating stuff, like picking your dog, who flew solo from Toronto to Cancun, up from Mexican Customs.
I will spare you the details about this ordeal because, frankly, I'm not ready to talk about it yet. But suffice it to say it started with all 4 of us bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, optimistically showing up at the airport at the same time that Lizey's flight arrived, ready to welcome our happy little dog and sail off to Merida in no time. We took Peter up on his offer to join us there in case we needed help with language, and also brought along the guy giving us a ride to Merida, so that way we could just hop in the car and go once we had Lizey. (By the way, the guy giving us a ride aka The Most Patient Man in the World was Chris Zimmermann of Zim Zoom Transportation. See him if you need airport transfers or a private driver in the Yucatan)
It ended 4 and a half hours later after only a couple of minor nervous breakdowns on my part. Luckily Louis, the girls and The Most Patient Man in the World were able to hang out in the air-conditioned terminal while my saint of a brother and I ran back and forth between Livestock inspection offices and the hot, sunny cargo/customs yard trying to bust Lizey out of customs jail. For almost 5 hours.
So.
Much.
Paperwork.
*shudder*
Here I am looking cool, calm, collected and not at all sweaty after finally picking Lizey up. (I don't know about you but I think I pull off the orange safety vest beautifully. I'm thinking of picking one up to add to my wardrobe.) We are still 5 minutes away from getting the final stamped paper that says we can proceed through the exit in this picture but Lizey is already pulling hard towards the gate. She was R.E.A.D.Y. to leave.
We arrived in Merida just as it was getting dark, dropped our luggage inside the beautiful, colonial house we had rented through airbnb, and contemplated just going to sleep right there and then. But no, we hadn't eaten much except a few $38 Starbucks sandwiches from the airport all day, and we needed food. So we googled a nearby pizza place and headed out the door to walk the few blocks to get there. We wandered into this tiny takeaway pizza place, in the most un-touristy part of town, and I used my rusty Spanish to try to order something that the girls wouldn't find "weird." Done. 20 minutes and we would have two hot pizzas to bring home.
So we wandered a bit. Maia spotted a stand where they sell churros and marquesitas - a kind of big, crispy crepe that gets spread with something sweet like Nutella or caramel and then rolled up into a long cigar shape. It had been a long day, so I thought the girls deserved some "dessert before dinner." As we headed over to the stand, the skies opened up and yet another torrential downpour began. I ducked under the marquesita stand's awning and stood in uncomfortably close proximity to the man making the marquesitas while he awkwardly went about his business. Louis and the girls took shelter in the gazebo of the adjacent square.
Standing under the Gazebo eating a warm, Nutella-y snack while rain buckets down is pretty nice, actually. But as we were licking our fingers the rain started to come down harder. And harder. It was time to pick up our pizzas and the rain was showing no sign of letting up. So out of the gazebo we ran, as fast as we could back to the pizza place. We paid, gathered up our two delicious-smelling cardboard boxes, and just decided to brave the rain to get back to our rental home as fast as we could. We wanted to go fast but we kept yelling at the girls to be careful, as the sidewalks were so uneven. Sidewalks in Merida are, shall we say, informally built. Ranging from wide walkways to 8-inch wide ledges, a ramp here, a few steps leading up or down there, lots of cracks and potholes and random piles of building materials. Also, there is no drainage, so every few minutes you get a full soaker up to the knee. I was stepping up and down so much I remarked to Louis "it's like trying to walk in a fun house!" I didn't really mean this in a joyful way, but Maia and Poppy heard me and shouted ecstatically: "Yeah!!!! It's like a water fun-house!!!! Yay!!!!!!!"
Drenched to the bone, hungry, tired, only one layer of nearly soaked cardboard between our much-needed pizza and oblivion. We had every reason to feel down. But how can you feel anything but happy when these two little girls who have just been forced to spend nearly 5 hours doing nothing in an airport, then almost 5 hours in a car, then to march them out into the rain to get pizza, are just loving life in the way only 6-year-olds can???
We arrived back at our house, stripped off our soaked shoes and clothes, and tucked into our slightly damp pizza. "Mmm-mmm. This is the best cheese pizza I ever had!" said Poppy, taking a second slice.
What a way to kick off our year in Merida. As days go, it was an incredibly difficult one, but it was also good. And a good reminder: it's easy to be content when everything is going your way. But to find joy in the crummy situations, well, you might just want to take a page out of Poppy and Maia's book. Next time you are disappointed because it's raining, get up, go out, and look for your own "water fun-house." Enjoy!
Fantastic. Oh how I love reading about your adventures. It's almost like I'm with you....Love and cheese pizzas, C
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