I loved this, Kay, because it so reminds me of the country I also call home. The hand-painted sign, ten pesos, a Coca-Cola, and the willingness to stop the truck….brilliant.
Exploration is just having enough intention to know what you’re looking for, along with enough openness to abandon the plan when something interesting appears at the edge of it.
Sending the magazines to your parents as proof you weren’t wasting your life made me smile. We spend so much of our younger years trying to justify the paths that only make sense once we’ve lived them long enough.
Thank you Ruben. This Mexico is gone in much of Quintana Roo. Of course bound to have happened. My experiences and memories are priceless which is I part of the reason I am writing these short stories. It was not so long ago. Life was simple and raw. I felt a connection, respect and gratitude for being accepted with everyone I met.
What a wonderful adventure Kay! You were so brave to do these dives, but the beauty must have been overwhelming at times. I love the light. Thank you for sharing these experiences.
I first went to the Riviera Maya back in 1990. We still called it the "Cancun-Tulum Corridor" back then, before the big developers moved in and created the Riviera Maya marketing scheme 10 years later. I stayed at Capitan Lafitte, now called Petite Lafitte, I think, and it was the most laid-back place you ever saw. For some reason, I even stood once at the outdoor palapa bar there in my boxer shorts (possibly because I couldn't find my pants) and got into an argument in Spanish about economics with the bartender. Which was interesting because I barely speak Spanish and know nothing about economics. I don't think the current groovy version of the resort would let you order drinks in your boxers. And then there were the two Austrian nurses that I took for a ride into the jungle in my rented Jeep only to find, during an intense tropical downpour at about four in the afternoon, that the "convertible" roof didn't actually close, so we stopped in a bodega on a dirt road to get out of the rain, bought some beers, and danced among the rice sacks and crates of canned goods to mariachi music from the clerk's transistor radio. You bring back such wonderful memories of a time gone by. A time we will never see again. (Jeez, I could probably get a Substack column out of this!!)
I loved this, Kay, because it so reminds me of the country I also call home. The hand-painted sign, ten pesos, a Coca-Cola, and the willingness to stop the truck….brilliant.
Exploration is just having enough intention to know what you’re looking for, along with enough openness to abandon the plan when something interesting appears at the edge of it.
Sending the magazines to your parents as proof you weren’t wasting your life made me smile. We spend so much of our younger years trying to justify the paths that only make sense once we’ve lived them long enough.
Sometimes the detour becomes the biography.
Thank you Ruben. This Mexico is gone in much of Quintana Roo. Of course bound to have happened. My experiences and memories are priceless which is I part of the reason I am writing these short stories. It was not so long ago. Life was simple and raw. I felt a connection, respect and gratitude for being accepted with everyone I met.
Love it, Kay. And that photo! And Dive Girl cover, girrrrrrrrl!!!!! How great. And you saw a Motmot right there, too. Great story. Loved it.
Ah thank you, you are so sweet. Yeah Dive Girl I have to laugh that I was on the cover.
I think it’s great!
I have a copy in storage somewhere. It was a British publication. One of the articles in that edition was “How To Wee At Sea” 🤣
Oh man, very funny.
What a wonderful adventure Kay! You were so brave to do these dives, but the beauty must have been overwhelming at times. I love the light. Thank you for sharing these experiences.
Spanglish has given us some amazing experiences too. ☺
Spanglish can work, luckily my Spanish improved over the years.
Gin-clear! I love it.
Thank you!
I first went to the Riviera Maya back in 1990. We still called it the "Cancun-Tulum Corridor" back then, before the big developers moved in and created the Riviera Maya marketing scheme 10 years later. I stayed at Capitan Lafitte, now called Petite Lafitte, I think, and it was the most laid-back place you ever saw. For some reason, I even stood once at the outdoor palapa bar there in my boxer shorts (possibly because I couldn't find my pants) and got into an argument in Spanish about economics with the bartender. Which was interesting because I barely speak Spanish and know nothing about economics. I don't think the current groovy version of the resort would let you order drinks in your boxers. And then there were the two Austrian nurses that I took for a ride into the jungle in my rented Jeep only to find, during an intense tropical downpour at about four in the afternoon, that the "convertible" roof didn't actually close, so we stopped in a bodega on a dirt road to get out of the rain, bought some beers, and danced among the rice sacks and crates of canned goods to mariachi music from the clerk's transistor radio. You bring back such wonderful memories of a time gone by. A time we will never see again. (Jeez, I could probably get a Substack column out of this!!)
How exciting. I can picture the scene.
Thank you.