Hell’s Half Acre

We went back to Bead Beach today; it was Pikey’s turn and both boys have been dying to go back, skin their shins and knees, rib skin off, add more grey hairs to my head and frolick with the tourists.  We have such a warped view here from many others who come here - we have been to the tourist zone of Playa once, we always shop the Ejido side, our beach gets tourists but we generally stay down to the south end (because the snorkeling is better there) and they don’t come down there or we go to the deserted beach next door.  So our tourist exposure is rather limited, especially for living where we do.  Today we saw them in their natural environment.  And I can’t tell you how lovely it is to sit under little palapitas, lay upon nice loungers and watch the kids frolic while I do reading assignments.  Sissy and Jamie stayed home with tummy stuff - probably the stuff Jesse had a week (or so?) ago that kept us from going to Bead Beach last Sunday.

We call Sundays “Mexican Sunday” because it is about the only time that locals have to enjoy with their families.  And it was doubly lovely to see entire Mexican families, just like we were, busting into the resorts to lie on their loungers, sit under their palapas and enjoy the beaches that are supposed to belong to Mexico (but that the resorts generally prohibit anyone other than a resort-goer to enjoy.  I know we totally stick out from the resort folk as we schlepped all our stuff down the beach (in stark contrast to the resort folk who have a swimsuit (many times, just the bottom as it is Italian and French season now) and a towel and a book.  Pretty much just that.  Oh, sometimes cups of stuff from the resort.  I still can’t believe they don’t just tell us to leave.

But it was a lot of fun, people watching, listening to the Italian and French, looking at all the bare breasts and basking in luxury.  I got the boys up early; we were going to have Sunday teatime on the beach with cinnamon rolls and drinks.  We’ve started reading “Takes of a Korean Grandmother” and so far I’m really enjoying it.  Teatime is supposed to be poems, but we ain’t got no poems.  Maybe after we finish this book.  So, after such an incredibly early start (the boys as it turned out were up until 5am) we got to the beach early enough to get a little sun.  And for some reason, this Sunday was woefully lacking in both English-speaking folk and freakishly white skin burnt to a red crisp.

I FINALLY managed to lose that damn kilo, after bouncing from 83 to 84 all week, the week before, and heading steady at 83 all this past week, this morning I think I’ve made a solid landing at 82.  I’ll probably bounce between 82 and 83 this week, but I’ll take it, just to be done with that damn 84.  At least I’m heading downward again.

I managed to give myself that enormous kick in the rear and have had TWO WHOLE CONSISTENT days of Spanish.  Jesse, very cranky from lack of sleep this morning, begged for English so I relented to speaking first Spanish and then translating for him for the day.  I’ve also concentrated on 2 words each day and even when I’m speaking English, those words are always Spanish.  Today’s words were “rollo de canela” and “tollala”.  (Cinnamon Roll and towel)

The van is F.I.X.E.D. after spending two days with the mechanic.  We’ve been wondering just how good this guy is; he comes highly recommended, but you just never know.  He earned our trust with this past job though and rigged the starter so that it will now actually start without replacing the whole thing.  He had one bad diagnosis, was proven wrong and took that well and then went on to fix the problem.  That isn’t something that happens very often here.  AFter spending $950MN ($92USD) a few months ago for a new solenoid, he charged us $400MN ($41USD) for taking the starter apart, cleaning it and installing an auxillary boost.  We’ll see what happens and might just pick up a new starter when we get to the US.

Tomorrow I head to the clinica to see if I can find out what my vertigo/dysequilibrium issue is and to get GOOD FREAKING CUBANO ROAST coffee.  I’m sick of this acidic, bitter, POS Starburst stuff Jamie got on his last trip to Costco.  It is better than nothing, but now that I’ve had the Cubano Coatepec beans, I don’t thinkit is possible to go back.

And that was our Mexican Sunday.

Oh, and the weird thing today (cause none of the above was weird) was that during Sunday teatime (and “Tales of a Korean Grandmother“) I noticed that the bay at our beach was PERFECT for snorkeling.  We have had wicked windy weather for weeks now and today, when Tropical Storm Fay (checking WU just now to see if she is still TS or Cat 1) is offshore and over Cuba, we have beautifully calm seas.  Of course, by the time we were south of Akumal (and out of the lee from Cozumel?) we had wicked waves and it was a red flag day.