Cerulean sky meets azure sea. Platitudinous, but true.
It’s amazing how a happy hour or free cocktail party draws people like bankers to boring suits, but they do flock, no matter how inferior and potentially toxic the liquor. (It’s droll how people stuff themselves with highly seasoned food, very potent liquor, and carouse around the place, then blame the water for their distress.)
A great deal of Cancun was created by four ex-air force officers and four Mexican colleagues in the 70s. Who knew?
The waves pounded me today like a chef tenderizing veal. But the water is warm, the breeze refreshing, and I found in my email that I made $10,000 this morning. Rented a car (the cabs are driving me crazy) and bought a hand-rolled cigar from the hand-roller, Cuban tobacco wrapped in Mexican leaves.
Dinner at La Distalleria, where they used to produce tequila. Fish tacos followed by mole (not the rodent, but a complex sauce on chicken) with a love margarita. I found the last Miami Herald in a supermarket, and then some Hoya Cubans in a cigar store.
I am driving a Ford Focus. When I bought the cigars, I attempted to lower the windows for Maria, but I could not figure out how to do it, until she pointed to the cranks on the doors.
© Alan Weiss 2007. All rights reserved.