Considering I didn't have the large night I expected after the gala dinner, I wasn't surprised that I woke feeling kinda fresh, ready to continue my 3 week adventure into Mexico and then Cuba. First things first, not the lost & found but the chill out area for my complimentary massage. Albeit, it was only a foot massage and the bean bags were not as comfy as they looked but - first world problems. Then the lost & found, where there was still no luck with my lost bag.
I girl I had met on the way into the gala dinner, also from SF, was also waiting in the lobby when I got there for the 5-day tour I'd signed up for with a bunch of other agents. We waited for ages, chatting to all the other agents wheeling their suitcases out to get their transfers back to the airport. Poor sods, many of them only flew in for the weekend and had to be back in their stores just 4 days after they flew over to Cancun. I am so blessed to be able to take this time off.
We were still waiting when most of the others had cleared off and the dust was setting in, wondering where the hell our guide and the rest of the group was. I asked a few random people, half hoping that they weren't in the group (they were old and looked boring), and then started worrying. I tried not to let the recent robbery get in my head, but not knowing what was going on was getting to me and I had to go through to the other hotel to check the lobby over there. I found everyone waiting, somehow they got the message and T and I hadn't, so I ran over to get her and our luggage.
I met our tour guide, J, who didn't look as Mexican as I'd hoped, the tour company rep and another dozen agents from various parts of the company. There were a couple of people from New Zealand and England, the rest from Oz. Once I got chatting to the guide I learnt she'd lived in Central America for about a decade with her Caribbean husband and spoke not only fluent Spanish but English too. As it turned out, having a more Western perspective on the goings-on of Mexico wasn't such a bad thing.
We drove out of the Marriott driveway, down past Cocobongos, through the town and into the "real" Cancun. Our hotel, a far cry from the infinity pools of the J.W., was... how should I say it... cosy? Nestled in a side street next to what I later found out was a gay club and almost devoid of tourists, the location certainly gave us a our first taste of the real Mexico. We went for a quick orientation walk and then J took T and I to the local police station to report the theft of my bag and T's phone. T had a slightly different story - she got drunk the Friday night and asked a barman to "mind her phone". Needless to say, she never saw said barman again. Silly girls that we are.
The police station was another story completely. Although it wasn't that busy, the first policeman J spoke to was just so unimpressed with the fact that he may have to do some work that he almost sighed his answer in Spanish: "Get and get 2 photocopies of your paaaaaasspoooots..." We walked for ages trying to find somewhere open to copy on a Sunday, eventually having luck, and went back to settle in for the afternoon at the cop shop.
The second cop we got was actually younger and a little sweet, I soon found out he was first of many to be charmed by T's pretty brunette trusses and accidental (?) showing of leg from the bench behind me. No wonder he moved through my report so quickly. When the first cop saw how we were laughing and joking about, he stuck his head over the partition and starting making conversation. Too late, buddy. We waited longer than necessary for someone to witness the signing of the reports but finally we were out of there, just in time to meet the rest of the group for the first night meeting.
At the hotel restaurant, J ran us through the 5 days that were ahead of us, but most importantly gave us good perspective on what to expect from Mexico. The most memorable part was when she pointed out the differences in our cultures to that of Mexicans, especially education, and not to get frustrated when we saw them doing something in a way that didn't really make sense to the rest of us. That stayed with me and came back to me many times, many, many times... many times.
After that was dinner at a restaurant near some kind of town market, alive and kicking in the summer school holidays with stalls and a bit of fun for the kids. T and I went walking after a meal of burritos, tacos and enchiladas (where J explained the life cycle of a tortilla and the various dishes involved in making it last beyond reproach), and were a little freaked out by the number of small children driving tiny cars around. Then I realised their parents were controlling them. For a second, I thought they were freakishly talented little critters. One cheeky stall-holder later ($10! For a tiny little pouch?? Got to be kidding), we headed back for a good night's rest at the cubby hole.
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