Rags to Riches

                                    Rags to Riches

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            Remember, a few weeks ago I stayed in the sleaziest hotel in Chacala? Lovely town. Ugly hotel experience.

            This week, thanks to the generosity of Kathy and Richard, I am in the most Posh hotel in Cancun, which says a lot! Cancun is “Tourist Mecca”, jaw-dropping beauty.

            My friends also invited Leo. Leo entered our lives as our gardener. Now he’s our friend. It is our bonus that he also gardens.

            Kathy said that this is the Ultimate Blowout Vacation, making use of time-share points they had to use or lose. I said, Wow, and Thanks.

            To get to Cancun from Guadalajara, we chose “Wingflap Air,” cheap with no frills. The plane was powered by dogs running a treadmill in the belly of the plane. The treadmill connected by rubber band to the prop in the nose. The dogs set off a yowl when the pilot released the rabbits. Rabbits ran. Dogs chased. Plane lifted into the air.

            When we got within sight of Cancun, the pilot pushed a button to drop the exhausted rabbits to the ground, may they rest in peace. The dogs settled down to a feast of doggy biscuits. We coasted to a landing.

            Once we picked up baggage, we made a huge mistake. We separated. Kathy and Richard took a shuttle to the hotel to check in. Leo and I shuttled to rent a car.

            The mistake? We did not think to have a copy of the hotel registration. Security is tight at this resort. We tried to phone Kathy. Her phone shuttled us to voice-mail.

            Ever-resourceful Leo got in touch with his inner lawyer and negotiated our way through three security check points before we could drive up to the lobby. Leo is a pro—he hardly broke a sweat. Me, I freaked, considered spending the week in another low-rent hotel. Silly me.

            Ah, the lobby! The grounds! The buildings! The greenery! The pools! The coconut palms! The fountains! The statuary! The turquoise sea! Words fail me.

            The rooms! Yes, the rooms. We made our way to Building 14, Unit 345. At the elegant carved wooden double doors, none of our keycards opened sesame. Kathy released her phone from airplane mode to call the lobby. A man arrived to fix our door lock. He called another man. Five men and forty minutes later, we entered our palatial suite.

            My room alone is an entire suite with every possible amenity. We each have a suite within the larger suite, if you can imagine. In the center we have a huge kitchen (which we will never use), a dining room and living room, all enormous. Each room faces the sea with a lovely balcony. Each room has a bathroom. A Jacuzzi tub sits in a nook on the balcony off the living room. Are you getting the picture?

In addition to the furnished kitchen, we each have our own coffee pot, microwave and stocked fridge. Each bath is stocked with toiletries to serve every need. Except soap. Somebody forgot to leave us soap. Toothbrushes, tooth paste, razors, loofahs, shoe rags, hair products galore, but no soap.

            But we were hungry, have not eaten all day. Dark descended. We left to find one of the several restaurants. I’ll tell you, when it comes to negotiations, Kathy and Leo make an unbeatable team. Kathy talked our way into seats in a reservations-only restaurant.

            We feasted. Such cuisine. Every bite delicious. Impeccable service. Our every desire satisfied before our brains had a notion there might be a lurking desire. Every bite elicited embarrassing mmmmm noises.

            When we returned to our rooms, we had soap. Which was nice. Because that might have registered as the most satisfying shower I’ve ever had.

            But this is not reality. This is not Mexico. This is a Disneyland sort of place.

            In the beginning, we felt a bit out of our element, not quite comfortable. Now we recognize this experience as a retreat, a week for each of us to feel petted and pampered.

Sondra Ashton

HDN: Looking out my back door

April 11, 2019

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