Cozumel: The Amsterdam of Mexico

Coconuts Beach Bar on the "Other Side" of Cozumel.

Coconuts Beach Bar on the “Other Side” of Cozumel.

Cozumel Island is like the Amsterdam of Mexico, albeit a little more aggressive. One of the few enjoyable days on our honeymoon included our day trip to Cozumel. For me, it was special because Jack has come so far from our first trip to Mexico where taking a cab into the closest town to go shopping was a complete nightmare for him. His “every day has the potential to be the zombie apocalypse” attitude (paranoia) results in massive anxiety whenever I mention leaving our cozy resort. This time he was actually pumped to take a ferry ride, rent a car, and hit the road for an ADVENTURE OF A LIFETIME!

Okay so it wasn’t that much of an adventure. I almost puked on the ferry ride there. Our second turn out of the car rental place almost ended in us getting t-boned due to a dumb tourist trying to make an illegal U-turn and us (other dumb tourists) trying to turn left onto the main road behind her. Other than that, the most dangerous part of our trip was renting a vehicle from a place called Rentadora Isis.

Jack felt very much in his element driving in Cozumel. In Canadian standards, he’s an effing a-hole to be reckoned with on the highways. But here, aggressive driving behaviour is the norm, and suicide passing tourists – a favorite pass-time.
We drove the main boulevard south and then to the east side of the island where Jack accidentally took the beachfront bike path (in Canadian terms – “service road” or “goat trail”) in the Sentra rental. Several minutes of sheer panic and one roadside bathroom break (with a view) later, we were reunited with the real road. From there, we ate lunch on a cliff at “Coconuts” Beach Bar watching the turquoise waves crash against the rocks. For me, this was the most memorable part of our trip; and my stomach will ALWAYS remember the heat intensity of that delicious pico de gallo!

Jack and I on the highest point in the world. Maybe just the highest point on Cozumel Island.

Jack and I on the highest point in the world. Maybe just the highest point on Cozumel Island.

Because Jack and I have short attention spans (for adults), this was the end of the road for us. We drove back the way we came (minus the goat trail) and visited Playa Corona for a quick Corona on the beach. Like true tourists, we bought our Kaluha and vanilla at the Mega mart on our way to return the car and rushed to the cigar bar by the ferry terminal for a quick goodbye drink (or 3 in Jack’s case) before setting sail to the main land.

Corona at Playa Corona. We are lazy and didn't go - but I hear there is good snorkeling at this beach.

Corona at Playa Corona. We are lazy and didn’t go – but I hear there is good snorkeling at this beach.

You may still be wondering how Cozumel and Amsterdam relate. I have never been to Amsterdam, but have heard that weed (marijuana) is easily obtained over there. Jack and I are not certain, but we are pretty sure we witnessed a top secret “exchange of assets” go down at the ferry pier in Cozumel. This would not be something out of the ordinary if the suspects shouldn’t be arresting themselves (if you know what I mean). And, Jack really hopes you don’t know what I mean because in his mind, it’s a conspiracy. And you can never be too careful.

If you ever get the chance to go to Cozumel, GO! It is one of the most beautiful places I have visited, and the only thing cheaper than the booze (and maybe the mary-jane) is the vanilla!

Supermarket Sweet

Jute shopping bag with groceries II

Check out “the fabulous spread of healthy items in my basket.”

The other night after Zumba (yes, I’m still a desperate housewife), I paid a visit to the local grocery store for a few essentials. This young chap and I were following each other from produce section, to meat section, to dairy, and bread. This type of behaviour annoys me. I don’t understand why people can’t disobey the norm and go the opposite direction in the grocery store. Sometimes I do that, and you would not believe the number of people flashing me their grit teeth grin with accompanying glare.

I probably don’t need to get into the “people are like cattle” simile that Jack and I often discuss, but fact is, people mindlessly follow the herd and if they see a hole somewhere (ANYWHERE), they will run for it. It might not surprise you that Jack and I do not “do” crowds or traffic for this very reason.

I was nearing the end of my Supermarket Sweep, when I spotted something at the end of the aisle that I greatly needed. Another aside here: aisle end displays that claim to be *SALES* are made for people like me. Just as Jack falls for radio ads, I am the target audience of every single aisle end display.

(As an aside to my aside, Jack got his truck, our mortgage, home inspection AND my engagement ring from vendors advertising over the radio. To a compulsive researcher (me), this makes no sense. To Jack, time is money).

“Toothpaste, at that price? I’ll take 10!”

“OH, I really need sunscreen, Advil, AND crackers!” Fill the cart up with that shit.

This time, the aisle end was heavily populated with change rolls. I just so happen to be saving up for our amazing honeymoon, one bucket of change at a time. (So far, we can afford one night accommodation at the three-star all-inclusive resort of our choice). I stocked up on $1 rolls and hit the tills. The young gent from earlier was in the line beside me, and I noticed him noticing me. I’m happily engaged to a handsome lad and I definitely was not noticing some dude at the grocery store, but I’m not dumb. He was checking out the fabulous spread of healthy items in my basket. Here I am in line at the grocery store around 8:30PM, in my bright pink Zumba class outfit, with a huge package of $1 coin rolls that I intend on purchasing. . . And it hit me.

I laughed. Because now I’m wondering if this guy thinks I’m a lady that frequents clubs of the naked variety. And if so, does he think I’m the star of the show?

I lifted my shoulders, plastered a sly grin on my face, and strutted out the door, across the parking lot, and into my boyfriend’s truck. If you’re going to be a fake stripper, be a good one.