Without a doubt this was the most unusual vacation I’ve ever taken, and certainly not the kind of holiday David or I would take on our own. At work, I was honored with “Gold Club” status, having been involved in some key sales deals, and so I along with a few hundred of my fellow employees across the Americas, along with our significant others and (with additional out-of-pocket costs) were given an all-expenses paid vacation to a resort on the Mayan Riviera.
That is, no money required from us. Airfare? Paid. Lodging? Paid. Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner? Paid. Drinks on the beach, at the pool? Paid. Freefree, freefreefreefreefree as the advertising goes. We also got a free excursion to an outdoor adventure park. Ultimately, the only thing we paid for was some nice massages, and David got to go sailing with an “instructor”.
Arrival was kinda like Fantasy Island, at least once we got there. We left New York early morning, temperature below forty Fahrenheit, and arrived in Mexico with temperatures in the eighties. After clearing customs, we made our way through the pandemonium of ride offers to find our group, and after collecting the latest batch, we all got on a bus and rode about an hour to the resort.
The resort was a bit of a compound: tastefully done, very high walls behind a shallow moat, with a large sliding gate at the entrance. Once past the gate, the bus drove another mile or so along a relatively narrow road, arriving at one of the buildings, where we checked in and received our schwag bags. Then, we boarded a minibus to take us to where we would stay.
The next day, having wandered around and gotten oriented, we dressed for the beach party and dinner. Photographers ad set up these photo stations and coached us on positioning.
Meanwhile, our suite was lovely. I didn’t take pictures inside, but we had a large living/bed area, a capacious bathroom with rain shower, and a walk-in closet that became David’s cave. Everything got stored there.
The view wasn’t bad either.
Later in the week, David met a woman with a bird of prey. He quickly learned it was not a guest activity, but rather, “pest patrol”. The handler and other staff would attest to how gruesome its task could be.
Anyway, back at the beach. A very nice buffet was served and we sat at tables on the beach. We met up with a work friend and his wife, and some other folks I didn’t know well but got to know. We were sitting right in front of this stage.
While the sun was up, we were entertained by a large mariachi band that was amazing. Then some ballads, and then this: Salsa with feather girls and some scantily clad men.
Most of what we did during the week was get breakfast, sit at the beach or pool and read, occasionally cool off, order beach drinks, nosh a bit, have a light lunch, read, walk around, and so on. It was lovely, the first vacation I’ve taken in a very long time that felt like, “doing nothing”.
On our penultimate day however, we joined a group excursion to some Mayan ruins and an outdoor activity park.
The city of Tulum was an important Mayan city, earliest dates unknown, but first encountered by Europeans in the 1500s; it had been around quite a while before then. We toured the grounds as a group. There is not much left, but there are enough of some important structures to know it was an important civic center in the region. It continued as a Mayan city for about seventy years after the Spanish arrived; supposedly some reefs offshore protected it from easy conquest.
Next we went to the activity park. We got to jump in cenotes – a broader definition than I realized, but fin all the same.
David had some trepidation. I think he might’ve floated upwards in this picture.
I embraced the plummeting. The water was a bit cool, so I added a vinyl top over my rash guard.
We also did some basic ziplining. This is something I’ve made fun of in the past, but it was kind of fun. Apparently these were simple rigs where we had no control over our speed; we just glided out over the water and terrain.
At the end of a long run, we had to paddle canoes back. From what we could tell, we were the only experienced canoeists.
Then, of course, someone had to tow the canoes back in a kind of banana-shaded conga line.
We flew in on a Monday and flew out on a Friday; we essentially had three full days. It was just right, including the mix of scheduled vs unscheduled time. There were a lot of people I didn’t know, and while it was nice to meet folks, we were also free to be on our own. It was a perfect getaway.