The Dull Day You All Feared

Feb 19th 2010


Woke up to a glorious day. Not a cloud in the sky. 8am.

My mood from last night had left me and a sunny day was just what I needed. I had planned to go to town but thought better of it with the sun out. “Sit on the beach,” I told myself. “Read. Relax. Try not to burn yourself silly.”

Good advice. Margot advice.

I tried to book a trip for tomorrow but the desk was out of tickets, of all things and so I will show up tomorrow and see what happens. $40 tour of the old town. Not sure there is even a bus as I ran into some people who were taken there in the back of a pick up! Such is mexico, though, so I am not going to complain if that happens.

In the elevator, met one of the people I had spoken to in the past, a fellow who stays on the same floor as me. Tall, pasty-skinned, he has the odd looking sandy-reddish hair and high check-bones of a german yet he has come from Vancouver. I saw him set up his camera and tripod on the beach two days ago and, when I bumped into him in the lobby, I asked if he had been trying to shoot the birds, as I had. He said he was and he got some good photos.

So, while waiting for the elevator, a place no one can escape from chatty Joe, I asked him if he had done any excursions and he said, no but he did get into two to see the parade. As we got on the elevator, he was the one who told me about the stampede.

We were beginning to talk about the old town when the door opened and an older lady came in and immediately, (and I mean before she had even pushed the button) began to complain about the weather and how it was the first good day and how her whole vacation had been ruined and how, on every vacation they said, oh, I bet the weather will be terrible and it was. My Nordic friend said, “Then perhaps you should stop saying such things.”

If I didn’t like the Nordic guy before, I did now.

And he was right. I mean as chatty as Joe Part 2 is at the moment (and that is not that chatty, to be honest), I will never walk into an elevator and start rattling off a litany of complaints. Why would you? What could you possibly get some such a display.

Anyway, the rest of the day does not bear mentioning. I sat in the sun. I got bored, shifted my lounge chair about a thousand times, tried to find a comfy position that both allowed the sun to hit the maximum amount of my fish-white skin and yet be comfortable enough to read. I read my Vince Flynn book having finished off The Road last night (depressing as hell and, perhaps it was just the state of mind I was in, but reminded me of the final journey that Margot and I went on, a journey where everyone knew what the end would be and it wouldn’t and-everyone-lives-happily-ever-aftger.)

I watched young, healthy people play volleyball and paragliders slide into the sky and seadooers leap over waves and apparently there were dolphins on the crest of the waves but I didn’t see them. I read and smelled my own nose burning and picked sand out of all sorts of unholy places.

Still, a good day. Not eventful, perhaps, but restful. Peaceful. Hot and quiet. Service at the buffet, for the first time, sucked monkey balls but the food was better than yesterday, or at least I had become better at choosing what they did well and what they did not. (Hint, burgers can be used as deadly Frisbees). Got a great cup of coffee up in my internet area and finally, yes finally, caught up on my blogs, vids not withstanding.

Tomorrow, off to the city again to see the old parts and not get so lost.