We had some spare time before heading to Playa Del Carmen, so it was suggested we go to check out the souvenir shops and make the most out of a less touristy city. T and I went to explore with some others, trying to find these markets J told us about - with no luck, T and I broke off so I could find a post office. I made sure to always have my hand on my bag and the zip done up. Shortly after, I went to lend T some cash and found my wallet was gone - A-FUCKING-GAIN. Awesome work there, sneaky fingered Mexicans. I don't even know how it happened, the fucking prick, I swear when I took a swig of my bloody water or something. Argh.
I went to an internet cafe and the lady let me use her computer for free to try and cancel my cards. But of course I was out of Skype credit, and when I tried to top up, oh they needed my card details. Then I tried to transfer T some cash but of course, they needed to send me an SMS code to the mobile I'd had stolen. Life was hopeless. So I gave up and met the others at the hotel, where a staff member collect called my bank and I was able to cancel my cards and order $1000 emergency cash. A nifty little service I didn't even know existed.
It was a 5-hour drive to Playa, which was welcome since I wanted another sleep. Everyone was waiting for me, some with sorry looks on their faces for my misfortune. Others, with slightly green looks on their faces from oncoming sickness. And we hadn't even started driving yet.
We had checked into our hotel, a last-minute change since the original (and much nicer looking) hotel was having renovations and was too noisy. We had a cute little apartment situation which we weren't going to take advantage of since we were out n about eating on the tour company's tab. I had to nip off from J's tour of town to sort out my money situation. What I did see of the strip in Playa was pretty cool - obviously mega touristy with vendors yelling "hey lady hey lady" (my favourite) "you want to look, I have good prices for you, Cuban cigar??" And it went on... A different vibe to Cancun, kinda more compact, and full of good-looking tanned bodies.
Thankfully, the robbery happened just before I got to Cuba, not IN Cuba, so I was able to get money from Western Union. But that was a whole 'nother mission in itself, in Playa del Carmen. Had to run to get there in time, only to not be able to find the actual Western Union, then finding out it was actually just at the supermarket check-out. Thoroughly confused, I stood there as the manager lady ran about gathering $100 here, $100 there, so she could make up the huge amount I was taking from her. Another bloody rich tourist, she probably thought. I made sure to get a cab back to the hotel and hid the cash in several places in my luggage.
Then it was dinner time, on the strip so lots of people-watching. This is where the music began. The first, of many many times, I was to hear "La la la la la la bamba!" Oh, save me. They wander around wanting tips - sometimes it's fun but it gets old fast. Especially when they come, one after another, all through pre-drinks, during dinner and into after-drinks. Give me strength. Tour from the tour company, T, M and I felt like a boogie, and were trying to decide the best way to go, and somehow it all ended up in a gay club.
We stopped off to get some of T's hair braided, then went in the back door (ha!). Considering it was mid-week, the place was empty but the tunes were pumping. Same old shit as Global, same old shit as every other pub, but you really just have to embrace it. It's there, so just deal with it. Throw your hands in the air and fukn never forget YOU'RE ON FUKN HOLIDAYS!!! I befriended the best gay Mexicans ever, with matching black tank tops and, you guessed it, MOUSTACHES!!
We spent the best part of the night gawking at the hot bar guy who insisted he was straight, in between staring at himself in the mirrored bar, before figuring that if we were gonna do body shots anywhere, it'd be here. Up we went onto the bar, tequila in mouth, lemon on stomach. I think that's how it goes, anyway. Good enough. Photo proof. A taste of my old wild days. Just a taste.
After a good ol' knees up, we headed back to the hotel and did a bit of creative swimwear (or lack thereof) in the pool. Figured with whale sharking (swimming not harpooning) the next morning, I should head to bed. Got to my room and yelled out from the balcony that they were being super noisy and the it was travelling up to the top levels, they didn't understand it was me and hushed their tones, thinking they were in trouble. Too funny. Sleep time.
I went to an internet cafe and the lady let me use her computer for free to try and cancel my cards. But of course I was out of Skype credit, and when I tried to top up, oh they needed my card details. Then I tried to transfer T some cash but of course, they needed to send me an SMS code to the mobile I'd had stolen. Life was hopeless. So I gave up and met the others at the hotel, where a staff member collect called my bank and I was able to cancel my cards and order $1000 emergency cash. A nifty little service I didn't even know existed.
It was a 5-hour drive to Playa, which was welcome since I wanted another sleep. Everyone was waiting for me, some with sorry looks on their faces for my misfortune. Others, with slightly green looks on their faces from oncoming sickness. And we hadn't even started driving yet.
We had checked into our hotel, a last-minute change since the original (and much nicer looking) hotel was having renovations and was too noisy. We had a cute little apartment situation which we weren't going to take advantage of since we were out n about eating on the tour company's tab. I had to nip off from J's tour of town to sort out my money situation. What I did see of the strip in Playa was pretty cool - obviously mega touristy with vendors yelling "hey lady hey lady" (my favourite) "you want to look, I have good prices for you, Cuban cigar??" And it went on... A different vibe to Cancun, kinda more compact, and full of good-looking tanned bodies.
Thankfully, the robbery happened just before I got to Cuba, not IN Cuba, so I was able to get money from Western Union. But that was a whole 'nother mission in itself, in Playa del Carmen. Had to run to get there in time, only to not be able to find the actual Western Union, then finding out it was actually just at the supermarket check-out. Thoroughly confused, I stood there as the manager lady ran about gathering $100 here, $100 there, so she could make up the huge amount I was taking from her. Another bloody rich tourist, she probably thought. I made sure to get a cab back to the hotel and hid the cash in several places in my luggage.
Then it was dinner time, on the strip so lots of people-watching. This is where the music began. The first, of many many times, I was to hear "La la la la la la bamba!" Oh, save me. They wander around wanting tips - sometimes it's fun but it gets old fast. Especially when they come, one after another, all through pre-drinks, during dinner and into after-drinks. Give me strength. Tour from the tour company, T, M and I felt like a boogie, and were trying to decide the best way to go, and somehow it all ended up in a gay club.
We stopped off to get some of T's hair braided, then went in the back door (ha!). Considering it was mid-week, the place was empty but the tunes were pumping. Same old shit as Global, same old shit as every other pub, but you really just have to embrace it. It's there, so just deal with it. Throw your hands in the air and fukn never forget YOU'RE ON FUKN HOLIDAYS!!! I befriended the best gay Mexicans ever, with matching black tank tops and, you guessed it, MOUSTACHES!!
We spent the best part of the night gawking at the hot bar guy who insisted he was straight, in between staring at himself in the mirrored bar, before figuring that if we were gonna do body shots anywhere, it'd be here. Up we went onto the bar, tequila in mouth, lemon on stomach. I think that's how it goes, anyway. Good enough. Photo proof. A taste of my old wild days. Just a taste.
After a good ol' knees up, we headed back to the hotel and did a bit of creative swimwear (or lack thereof) in the pool. Figured with whale sharking (swimming not harpooning) the next morning, I should head to bed. Got to my room and yelled out from the balcony that they were being super noisy and the it was travelling up to the top levels, they didn't understand it was me and hushed their tones, thinking they were in trouble. Too funny. Sleep time.
No comments:
Post a Comment