Tash gets married in Mexico

After passing the machine-gun armed police standing on the side of the freeway, my fear of being pulled over and having stuff planted on me subsided.

Welcome to Mexico.

The driver made a left turn into a driveway I hardly even saw. The path was long and bumpy, speed bumps placed every 20 feet or so. The bushes on each side were thick and green, visibility not more than five feet in either direction. I pretended we were driving through Jurassic Park.

Finally, we arrived. The El Dorado Royale. Our all-inclusive resort home for the next four nights. Home to Brian and Natasha's wedding in just 24 hours. I began to wonder what would be in store for us. Would we have a good time? Is Mexico really scary? Is the water that bad? How will it compare to our honeymoon in Turks and Caicos?

"Hola senores. Champagne?"



Oh yes. We're going to be just fine.



I'm not sure why, but we received a room upgrade. The place was absolutely fantastic. The shower, big enough for four people. The in-room hot tub. The view from the balcony, breath-taking. And more importantly, a mini fridge stocked with beer, water, and Coca-Cola.



We spent most of the afternoon trying to find the others. Walking around we found pool after pool, bar after bar. All lovely, but no friends present. Finally, giving up, we headed back to the room. Once there we tried calling each of their rooms. No answer. Now what?

Eventually we caught up with Sarah and wandered around aimlessly. At each stop we re-loaded on drinks, took in the atmosphere, then moved on to the next. The resort map showed 13 restaurants. We could only find about four on that first night, of which three wouldn't let me in because I either didn't have pants on or good enough shoes. So we settled, much to my shigrin, on the Korean place, where even there, I didn't meet the dress code.

It was about that time the crappy flight and lack of sleep sank its teeth deep into me. Rather than giving me a buzzed feeling, the alcohol tempted me to vomit. Worse, the food was doing the same. My eyes wanted desperately to shut. Though every time I would give in, the blackness on the other side would spin violently.

Back in the room we were finalizing plans for the night. The others had returned from a day excursion and were heading out to catch a show on the grounds. While waiting, I laid down. Unfortunately, I knew at that moment, my night was over.




After sleeping 13 hours, I felt refreshed and ready to properly tackle this vacation. We met up with Sarah (after passing a couple enjoying each other's company in a non-discrete way) for breakfast, then hit the beach. Typically, I don't handle laying out very well. I get bored somewhere around the ten minute mark. Katie owes my being sick still to her most enjoyable beach dwelling experience because I found laying in silence with my eyes closed and the warm sun soothing my pale skin to be calming. On that day, I made it two hours before it was hunger rather than boredom which set in. We ate lunch and grabbed some drinks, relaxing at one of the larger pools on the property until it was game time.

It was 2:45 p.m. on Saturday afternoon. We were showered and dressed. The only thing I had left to do was somehow get over my disappointment over forgetting to pack dress shoes. Subconsciously I knew the first thing I would do is look at all of the other men's shoes.

The atmosphere was like nothing I had ever seen before. A little white chapel with two large doors openening toward the sea, no more than fifteen feet from the soft, white sand. A perfect, cool breeze blew and the sun decided to hang around alone to brighten everyone's spirit amid the plethora of clouds. We all gathered, Brian awaited, and Natasha arrived.



The ceremony itself was your typical wedding: he does, she does, they combined sand and happily kissed (all in a chapel in Mexico next to the beach of course). It was the proceedings afterward that really set this wedding apart from the rest. We headed out to the beach, directed by the photographer, and watched as an endless ocean and peaceful waves backed Tash and Brian's first pictures as man and wife. It was truly an ecaptulating definition of perfection. And my shame of wearing those white Puma shoes? I won the first annual VS award for Coolest Shoes.



Naturally as guests, our first stop was the bar. Drinks all around! The tequila was pouring, the beer foaming, the blenders whirring. Had it not been all-inclusive, that initial bill alone would have easily cost in the hundreds. The drinking didn't stop there. In fact, I can't remember when the drinking did stop. Probably because I can't remember how many drinks there actually were. Most of how the rest of the night unfolded are beyond me, memories replaced by fuzziness. I do know I made a new friend. His name is Henry.





Sunday Katie and I talked about going on an excursion. Sunday morning my body said the idea was a no go. In fact, even the sun was too hungover to come out and it rained. Katie called the front desk to see if they had any idea how long the rain would last.

"We looked it up and it was supposed to be partly cloudly so when it started to rain we thought it was strange."

Um. That wasn't really an answer.

Luckily, we found an on-site spa and decided to give its jacuzzi a whirl. On the way there, weaving through the pathways nearly crashing several times into other carts, I had the pleasure of talking to an 87 year old Canadian man. A very proud man, he beamed about being with his wife, who was "only" 77, and all of his children. They too, were headed for the spa.

I opened the door for Sarah and Katie and flinched at the sight of 25 spa staff lining the walls. Holy God, we just want to get in the jacuzzi for 20 minutes, I thought to myself. One of the 25 employees took us through the facility. We were to use stations in a particular order for a designated amount of time. The hot tub first, for only 5-10 minutes. The cold water bath for 30 seconds to close our pores, then the specialty pool for back, neck, and leg massage work.

The jacuzzi wasn't nearly hot enough. The cold bath was FREEZING. The specialty pool was interesting. A station which rolled bars on your back under water. A station which shot jet streams upward from your feet. Two stations shooting water hard to work your back and neck. I left the place more sore than I had entered. The rest of the day, we took advantage of the tiny amount of sun that reared. Drinks, I learned, were not an option whatsoever, according to my body.



Finally scheduling an excursion we chose to visit the famous site, Chichen Itza. I was more than excited to see one of the seven wonders of the world, the famed Mayan sacrifice pyramid. I was less enthused about the two and a half hour (one way) drive it took to get there, or the drive through town(s) to get there and back.

Armed with a tour guide, Katie, three other couples, and I set off on foot up the hill toward Chichen Itza. Bombarded by people everywhere, tourists and natives, we tried our hardest not to get overwhelmed by the marketplace we had no idea about. The paths were lined with individuals and families trying to desperately to sell their items for "prices lower than Walmart" or "practically free today".



We learned quickly to ignore everyone but the guide, as saying, "Lo Siento", "Tengo no dinero", and "Gracias pero no" only seemed to encourage them to try harder. I even tried, "No hablo Engles" to no avail.

Chichen Itza. Not a place of sacrifices. A place of geometry and star-gazing. At least according to our guide, a part Mayan man who yearned to set us straight with his knowledge of his people, battling the "inaccuracies written by the winners." Either way, the structures were amazing. Nine tiers, one for each month of pregnancy, built thousands of years ago. Each side perfectly alined with the North, South, East, and West. Original paintings and carvings still in tact. The architecture and thought were nearly enough to drive us mad with amazement and wonder.



We saw many wonderful things that day, in addition to the most recognizable pyramid on the property. Tombs, sink holes, authentic Mayan homes. History. And iguanas. I can't forget about the iguanas. Or the entertaining scantily clad Russian girl who was posing next to historical monuments as if she was making love to them, dramatic, piercing eyes, arm posed over her head. Katie denied my request at any such pictures in this form.

Driving down the road our tour guide boasted of the best Mexican and Mayan food we've ever tasted. This was to be our next destination. Of course, driving through a downtown Mexico I've only seen in the movies, I grew a bit nervous. All of the stray dogs walking down the street made me realize, it wasn't just a Hollywood stereotype. I felt quite foolish when we pulled into the nicest looking place in a ten mile radius. I won't even attempt to describe the food to you. It's impossible. Just know, American tacos, beans, and rice are not even close to the Mexican version. Not even close. Coca-colas however will cost you $50. In pesos, thank God.

With a full belly, we jumped into the water. Down beneath the ground, literally in a cave, the group took a little dip. The cave lit by purple lights and a bit of natural shining through the random hole in the ceiling. Several bats flew around the top, shrieking at us. The fish in the water were very much unafraid. The hole, the bats, the fish. We didn't last too long in this cave pool.



The kids were the worst part. Rude. Loud. Not taking no for an answer. One tried to tell me the changing room I had just changed in ten minutes prior cost one peso. We were nine hours into this adventure and still had one stop to go. Katie and I were so done.

One last stop. Just as we felt would happen to us, the sun went missing. The tour guide, unafraid and with a lack of worry, tells us we have 30 minutes to explore our last stop, a bustling downtown city. I'd like to tell you Katie and I were too tired, but that would be a lie. We were too timid. We snapped off a few quick pictures from the side of the travel van. Unfortunately, I needed to pee.

"It's down on the corner, inside the coffee shop." Awesome.

The corner was at least 100 steps away. The shop had a security guard, sitting on a bar stool.

"Donde esta el bano?" Our one perfect Spanish phrase.

He motions to the back. It felt like we were walking through an alley way. Down the hall, dimly lit. The low arch forced us to duck under and we found ourselves in a tiny space with two toilets. It was a race to see who could finish faster. But as you can see, we made it. Eventually, in another three hours, we made it back to the resort. Discovering room service for the first time, so late into the trip, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to tell you the two of us ordered three plates of food and three desserts. We smashed all of it. In about fifteen minutes.




In order to have a good time it was mandatory to come back home with all of my organs, money, and my wife. I came back with two of the three, so I will say it was a pretty good time.

More importantly, we saw our friend Tash wed. So to end this story properly:

Tasha and Brian lived happily ever (five days and counting...) after.