Pitbull made me do it

The definition of hard work I believe was fairly well articulated the morning after the rainbow domination of Cancun Beach. Forced to be on the waiting buses by 7:30am the next morning, there were about 4,000 reasons to quit drinking forever - and any who denied the fact were still drunk and began their hangover in the early stages of the conference during the same day. I survived by curling into the foetal position across to seats. Others weren't so lucky - for most of the journey, the smell of fresh vomit wafted past me and held me just barely to my own vomit-free sanity for the 45-minute journey.

They fed us well before the conference - we walked into a huge convention hall, the scene of the forthcoming gala dinner, and there were mariachi bands, piles of breakfast burritos (I shuddered at the meat option while others gorged themselves on it... just too early) and a donkey called Pancho wearing a sombrero. I felt sorry for that donkey and refused to get a photo with him. Although now it would much better illustrate the total humiliation the situation created.

The conference was entertaining, much more so than I expected, and was quite a quick wake-up call. Once in, we rushed to our assigned areas per group, jumped up on our chairs and started dancing to the soundtrack that would become a staple diet (alongside alcohol and burritos) for the entire weekend. I found myself even singing to the words - nay, LONGING for them - for songs that I'd never before moved a hip to. But now, in a room of overtired, hungover yet totally excited people, it was impossible not to wave that little SF flag as high over my head as possible until it broke.

One of the funniest moments in the conference had to be the poor girl that fell asleep - and there were a few - who got singled out and brought up on stage to sit in humiliation. The fact she was in deep sleep sitting up only 6 seats away from the CEO didn't make her case any weaker. I wonder if she still works in the travel industry. Maybe she tests mattresses.

The conference was really a big "go-and-get-em" for the company, with regular sponsor bits thrown in. And blatantly. Hey, we're not stupid, we know this multi-million dollar event doesn't have its fair share of support. I guess it was smart to create a Mexican soap series take-off as the way to give sponsors their 5 mins of airtime. Hard to explain but it worked... in a way.

The guest speaker was another source of speculation for the crowd (this company loves a good build-up) and when it was revealed to be USA Olympian Michael Phelps, there was a pleasing reaction from the crowd. Considering many in said crowd were female, I can only guess why. He was good, although with no basis of comparison, I guess I can't judged too harshly. He appeared with his trainer and was interviewed in a Q&A style with an MC, something unusual I think for this conference. Rumour has it he was a last-minute ring-in so no wonder he didn't have a speech prepared. He'd obviously been briefed though, and it was good to hear from the horse's mouth how one becomes so friggin successful. It is hard when people ask you what you secret is, like there's just one sentence to make it all make sense.

There was some dancing and poi/staff twirling from a local act which I found mesmerising (of course). Then the conference was over. Oh wait, we found out next year's location: Macau. Pretty exotic I thought, although I have realised that you could probably hold a Global in a convention centre in the middle of the desert and, as long as you have the right trimmings, everyone would still have a ball. But the thrill of desire does drive people to earn it.

We piled back onto the buses and, with the help of venue staff acting as temporary traffics wardens to get the dozen or so vehicles back onto the main road, headed back to the hotels. I thought we had another session in the hotel but thankfully the timetable was wrong and I could just SIESTA for a couple of hours. Oh, sweet siesta. I had hit a wall.

Then it was party time. I put on my party frock, black with gold as instructed, and packed my bag with things I thought I'd need for the night out (not really thinking at that point that we'd no doubt go back to the hotel to regroup before heading out anywhere else - a fatal error, I was to find out later). Eyelashes barely holding on the humidity, I strutted out in my sparkly black heels and headed into the niche meeting room to see my little black n gold buddies.

Everyone looked divine, as expected, and excitement was high. After some pre-drinks and the obligatory photo sessions, we piled back onto the buses and filed back to the cold, dank convention centre - only this time it was really heaving. To the left, the overprepared UK section waving a huge blue, red and white flag and backed by their own marching band, to the right a long bar with scantily clad Mexican dancers, to all sides people talking, dancing, screaming, jumping, looking for friends - it was a hive of energy.

Then the doors opened to the main room and we made a mad dash to claim a set of tables together so we could remain together for the rest of the evening. My form of mad dash in said shoes was little more than a confident stride (think Beyonce in Sweet Dreams filmclip). No one wants the night to start with a twisted ankle.

We got a good possie not far from the stage and I ended up with a mish-mash of people, as I'd come to Global as an individual and had not other peeps from my store to sit with. All good, I was just happy to be there! The awards were hosted by some good-looking American chap and featured some pretty awesome tribal-esque dancing mid-way, I think it was a point to the Incan side of Mexican history of some kind. But also a chance for people with fit bodies to wear little clothing, which I also appreciated.

The awards went through and it was amazing to see the achievements of some people - just when I was happy with my year-end result! Whoa. A definite highlight was when my area stormed the stage to collect "our award", only to find another area had been awarded it... from what I've heard since, it was some kind of rule glitch that we hadn't been previously informed about. Although I'd yet to hear the final word... Regardless, dancing on that stage was pretty phenomenal. Maybe we'll legitimately make it next year and give South Africa back their plaque. Probably not.

Then the last surprise of the night... and who will it be?? Collectively we rushed to the band area where it was revealed... Pitbull! Pitbull? Alrighty then, let's make the most of this. So we danced. And danced. And danced. I grabbed a hot gay guy to be all stupid with, actually I even found a hot Mexican guy somewhere along the way but ran away as soon as he started groping me, wondering later how the hell he managed to get into a closed event (something I should have entertained a little stronger at the time).

The bathroom called and so I headed out to have a quick break, only to find the tables cleared up and my bag nowhere to be seen. No matter, I'm sure it's been handed in. No, no bag here... Another girl, a bit more distressed than me, was also looking. She was heading to Cuba the next day so was a little more desperate for her things. I was just sure they'd turn up somewhere.

I asked around as much as I could, no luck. So I headed onto the bus as it started to rain and everyone was getting cranky to get a seat, and had some fun in the back with some random guys - laughing fun, I know that sounds more dodgy than intended. The other girl sat sullenly staring out the window. "We'll find the bags, don't stress," I told her naively.

I never saw my bag, my phone, my cute little vintage clutch or my makeshift wallet again. I blame Pitfull.

The rainbow tidal wave descends on Cancun Beach

Firstly, major apologies for the tardiness in this blogging situation... As many of you know, I was robbed on the Saturday night of the Global function and that kinda put a halt on my interaction with the worldwide web. A welcome change, yes, but a little annoying that I now have to backtrack almost 3 weeks worth of brilliant memory.

Let's start with where I left off... About to head to the famed Global Friday night party. While not officially Global as not the awards dinner etc, it is for many the big event looked forward to and after last year's surprise guest was revealed to be Fatboy Slim, there was just a bit of anticipation about what this year would bring.

We put our matching rainbow ponchos on and headed to the hotel lobby bar to gather and enter en force to the large pool area to host the party. The place was buzzing. Another over-priced drink later and we were on our way. Watch out, SF is coming. Off to the next door hotel and we were greeted with hundreds of people, even thousands, already milling about and, standing at the top of the stairs, looking down to a sea of rainbow, smiling waiters with trays of free drinks in hand and a thumping beat from the DJ booth to the right. Oh, and that clear blue sea to the left. Still clear. And still blue.

Absorbing like sponges into the atmosphere, the SF crew almost toppled the waiters in their rush for free drinks and I, with K and S, headed for a free photo in the Etihad photo area. Funny times. I think I ate K's boob a bit.

So the party raged on. I found myself in the pool with half swimmers/half underwear on, with my SF peeps A and P, in the earlier hours of the party before the pool turned its putrid murky colour. I think we started something. Oh, who am I kidding, the others just needed some liquid courage.

I ran into people I knew from other brands, not everyone I'd hoped but some people I didn't expect so it was a mixed bag of glee. The hour neared for the special guest and we barged our way to the front to hear... bam bam bam....... who is it? My CEO came up, poncho-clad also, to announce the DJ but dramatically allowed the artist's music/face to do the talking. Except that I had no idea who he was and didn't recognise the music. After asking someone who looked gay and into the whole dance music scene (blatant stereotypical judgement that paid off), I was told it was Roger Sanchez. Cool. Cooler in the early noughties, when he actually had some big hits, but still not too bad.

The night reached fever pitch when I found myself having various drink fights with my colleagues - nay, fellow party animals - and was absolutely soaked with alcohol, pool water and sweat. A party cocktail to end all cocktails.

Then it was 1am and it was over.

I met a couple of the girls from work and arranged to meet them downstairs for more partying elsewhere in Cancun. Got dressed and primed to head out and waited in the foyer. And waited. And waited. Entertained myself with some funny Irish guys, but didn't go partying with them as I had to wait for my mates. And wait I did. Until I grew tired and just went to bed. Such is the life of a party animal.

To the Gold Coast - I mean, cancun

So I'm sitting on my balcony at the J.W. Marriott, named not after myself although its fair to say its a great name, looking out at the Caribbean Sea on my left, the lagoon and its jet ski enthusiasts to my right, an assortment of azul pools down below and in every direction, pockets of other FC people getting happy. I'm a little lightheaded from the overpriced cocktails (almost as bad as Australia) had from the pool bar earlier this afternoon and am just taking this spare time to let the after sun gel soak into my hideously sun-kissed body. Although sun-kissed is such a gentle word. How about turned over and sodomised by the sun. Yes, that's better.

The beach is just as clear here and also just as clean - one thing I have to remark about in Mexico is that they really make the effort to clean up after themselves. At least in the more touristy areas. It will be interesting just how intensely touristified this place is, already I feel I could just be at the Gold Coast, just with darker waiters who include service charge whether you like it or not. Actually, they probably do that on the gd coast now too.

I've so far run into a number of people at the hotel, firstly K who I am roomed with again (firstly in Vietnam for the intrepid famil), A and P from neighbouring stores. We went to maragitaville at a's suggestion and it was just tacky and culturally devoid as expected. But at the same time, I was ready for the tack. And for no one even bothering to speak their native tongue. In fact, it went to far as to be answered in English even when I phrased the question in Spanish. Sigh. So much for my practice. At least we rode public transport the few kms down there - yay for new experiences!

The guys mostly started to fade towards the end of lunch, after we'd downed some fairly generous cocktails (mine came with a free light-up cup yeeow), we did a spot of souvenir shopping, A bought a bottle of tequila shaped like a pistol and I just milled around trying to look interested. I must say, however, that Mexico does have a much better souvenir palate to work with. There was plenty I'd actually consider buying for little presents. Maybe later.

My taxi ride to cancun was interesting. The can driver tried to convince me, as I practised Spanish and he practised English, that he could mend my broken heart and that I needed to make the most of my vacacciones. I perked up only when he said he had lots of friends in "high" places on playa del Carmen, if I wanted to have a good time when I was there after global. So maybe he is worthwhile having a chat to... I am a little put off by the question "tu tienes un novio?" No I don't hav a fucking boyfriend and I don't particularly want to talk about it to someone I just met. What's my ideal guy? Not a short Mexican with no life prospect or plan beyond getting the piece of foreign ass in front of him.

Rant. Over.

So now it's about 2 hours til we need to go to the other pool area for this party tonight. Part of me is so relaxed I wouldn't mind a quick nap but that's just a silly idea for which I should be punished... With cocktails!! Ahh... Still a little tipsy. I wonder what I should team the obligatory poncho with at said party?? First world problems... Aye aye aye.. I feel for the legitimate guests of the hotel. I'm sorry, in advance. 

Oooooh barracuda

I woke again without alarm, or an alarm to be precise, as the morning heat here seems to coincide with my plans quite nicely. I tried for another yummy breakfast here at the hotel but since no one was around, opted for "para lleva" (take away) near the snorkelling depot. Got that sorted, met my guides and hopped on a tiny boat with little to no protection for my bag from the wet. Glad about my decision to leave the slr at the hotel.

The water is so clear here, it's Whitsunday worthy, and I was excited to see what lay beneath the odd dark spot. I also found it incredible that some butterflies were able to follow us out to sea - thinking they'd just accidentally web napping on the boat, I was amazed to see them later on above my head as I was swimming in the ocean. I wonder if its a about-to-die thing like I've heard the flying near the ground thing is. Regardless, they were purrrrdy with their yellow wings...

Me and my guide, didn't catch his name - probably Julio or Fernandez - showed me around his hood. Hood being short for coral reef; the second largest in the world apparently. I bet the first is Australia. It was only me and a Dutch guy scuba diving, so I had a private tour of the reef which was quite cool. Only thing not cool was the fact I shovelled down breakfast way too fast and couldn't really handle the rocky waters for more than an hour. I did manage to shake it off when i saw some colourful fish, a barracuda and some trumpet fish which i mistook for seahorses. Still nothing on the great barrier reef, hear ye people! I was taken back to shore with the butterflies while the others finished their scuba dive. I was told it was low Season here, which may explain the bad weather and lack of muchas turistas around. Was told not to come in December January as it was hectic town. Tried to speak Spanish with them but they knew good English so it was an uphill struggle.

Afterwards, I carefully reconsidered going back to the hotel to freshen up but knowing it was the opposite direction to the town I wanted to see I just pressed on. A few kms later and I was in tulum town centre. Definitely about as interesting as my mate R had explained it to me, it was simply a long stretch with shops and restaurants all speaking broken English and competing for business. Not that I mind a bit of broken language - hell it's what I speak- but I just wish they wouldn't try. If I ignore you, it's cos don't want your shitty brick n brack. Having said that, I did buy some things for back home...

Talked to who I assume was a lesbian couple from their short haircuts and close proximity to each other, who recommended some other places with food just as cheap as the place we made acquaintance ($2 for 2 empanadas). I'm pretty sure I didn't find them but I went somewhere with cheap tacos anyway, and ate like a queen for a few dollars. I must say, the chefs in oz have done their research cos lots of this food is just like the authentic slop we're promised back home. Still don't think I'll have Mexican for some time after this trip, though.

Rode back to town on the little old bike path - not old at all actually in case you misread that one. Great for shit bike riders like me. I rode to the place to organise my transfer to cancun and only had enough for a deposit, so came back a few hours later for dinner. In between, I went back to my hotel and swan, drank and sun baked as the sun had appeared again. And lord knows I can always be pinker. Also noticed a massage table in the corner so I treated myself to one of those. Nothing like the soft unintentional exfoliation of the sand against your skin to really get the most out of your massage. And in my swim time, almost stood on a stingray or something equally as delightful. Yay to wildlife.

The place for dinner was next To the place I booked my transit, how crazy that she recommended them... It had multi-levelled viewing situation where the top platform had the perfect view of the sunset, which was slightly obscured tonight due to clouds. But I still managed to enjoy my 2 for 1 mojitos without much care in the world. Fajitas followed just to taste them in their natural habitat and then I bought another handmade stone ring that I don't need so that I'm not running on empty in terms of no cash machine nearby, thankfully I'm heading to cancun at 9 in the morning so will get to the  hotel and registration before most others flying in.

I made it through dinner with some annoying Russians next to me of whose son I thought was just rudely staring at me the while time before i realised he was looking straight through me. But they were also annoying. Did I mention that?? I amused myself with playing "guess the latin version of the chart-topping single" game and the extra "fuerte" double cocktail situation in front of men(no holding back for My vacation!) while also noticing I have a rather fetching thong tan. A decent effort got 2 days in  sol. So I must retire for my early start tomorrow. Hasta mañana bitches.

Riders to the storm

I woke today at the perfect breakfast hour - not too early I'd be in bed by 5, not too late I missed the day. The Mexican girl I met last night at the bar made me a fantastic fruit salad with granola, freshly cut with local honey drizzled over it and accompanied by a freshly squeezed orange juice. It is one of those places here, where Fresh fruit is cheaper than juices so we get the real deal every time. Albeit 5 mins later but whose counting - it's Mexico!

It was another cloudy but hot and humid day, I wasn't sure what to do but my dreams of lying on a sunchair just seemed so... Lazy. So I found out there were bikes to hire, and went about finding them. I got distracted by a place called Ziggy beach, one of the many resort/beach bar/restaurant/spa setups along the main rd running parallel to the beach stretch. 

It was quite nice actually, little swings as chairs along the bar and a graduating design down to the beach where big mattresses laid out for the perfect tanning sesh. I experimented with my new slr camera but was soon interrupted by some droplets of rain, which soon turned to heavy then a downright ass-reaming pour. The had-thatched roofing just couldn't withstand it and I retreated to the swings. Made some conversation with the bar man, hellbent on improving my Spanish (Mai tai on one hand, Spanish dictionary in the other). Then the rain eased and I was back on the bike mission. 

Once sorted with a bike, rented from a tranquil little business that also offered yoga, which I'm tempted to do one morning as for $15usd it seems a great deal better value than the massages that start at $100 and go up. Honestly, that's even worse than Australia! The bike was a piece of shit, no surprises there and also not a huge problem, since it was only marginally more shit than my own bike at home (currently with a flat tyre in my garage).

I rode to the biggest ruins they have here, part of the national park but damned if I know the name of them. Wait... Map... No luck there, it just says "archaeological site". Good work, map. It was full of tourists, interestingly mostly Mexicans (I actually think its down season here and the weather isn't all the crash hot in July), and just another pile of rocks. Whoa - let me just take my ignorant westerner hat off their for a second. It was actually really beautiful and there was a little beach with clear blue water where a bunch of people (too many for my liking) were swimming. And there were iguanas. Everywhere. 

Once I was done with that, I cycled back the straight road towards parayso beach hotel (my hood) and checked out some of the nearby shops and figuring it was about lunchtime, stopped by by another nice looking place. The door guy talked rapido about something Which I gathered was, if you come in you have to drink and eat our food, and then set upon trying some authentic Mexican food. 

The setup was awesome, big lounges and comfy pillows, and more beach mattresses. I got the octopus tacos and surprisingly, they were very similar to the Mexican restaurants in Melbourne, so well done chefs on your thorough research there. After a quick swim in the warm, clear sea, I had a sunbake and promptly fell asleep. So here I am, lazing about the beach like nobody's business. What hypocrite I turned out to be. Also checked out some of the wellness places around about - tulum really is a beautiful and relaxing place with a lovey energy to it. The locals don't harass you or make lewd comments as you walk by, and there is not an over-hyped sense of tourism here. Yet. But it's a nice change to all the other beachside resort towns you seem to come across these days. 

Waking to some unknown hour of the afternoon, I rode back Saw some pretty feather earrings (cos, you know, 5 pairs of feathers just ain't enough), found out about my transfer to cancun and put my name down for a tour tomorrow to snorkel with the turtles. 

Let me just say now, before I pass out from tiredness again, that I jumped the gun with the hot guy moment yesterday. The people here are lovely, don't get me wrong, just not particularly attractive to me. They are short and have a kinda peruvian native look about them, which probably makes historical sense, but they definitely don't do it for me. Maybe I'll have better luck in Cuba!

Anyway, so after my beach nap, I cycled further past my hotel to check what was happened in that direction, answer was nothing much so I settled on La Zebra for dinner cos I like horses. More seafood came with prawns and potato mash, and I ventured into Margarita territory with the help of mango and lime... Tasty. Hey, if you can't enjoy tequila in Mexico, it's just a lost cause. 

A storm was brewing and I sat staring out the window at it rolling in from the horizon. It hit, and it hit hard. Thunder and lightning and things nasty. I just drowned myself in margarita. Had the faithful dictionary out and practised some more Spanish with the waiter, feeling proud as I always do that I'm making an effort. Then I remember, as I always do, how little an effort I make in the countries that difficult languages. Lets start slow though, shall we...

Eventually I thought it best to ride back, sans lights, the short distance to my hotel with my camera wrapped securely in a plastic bag. I didn't want to get too drunk and be the first pre-global casualty for this trip. How embarrassing. Back at the hotel, the bar was shut and no one was really about so I just retired, a good thing too as my eyes are starting to droop again and I have lots to do tomorrow! This relaxing thing has gone too far. 

Your dog called - he wants his tiredness back

Welcome back my fine feathered friends, to the ever so delightful musings of Miss Sophie deLightful and her worldly travels. Albeit, much has changed in the... No, it can't be... More than a year since my last blog. As I cut my time short the paradise of St Maarten in the Caribbean to be with the love of my life. My, how time does change.

So now I find myself single again, unleashed to the world an equally vivacious yet a little more educated woman who has a bit of a handle on what exactly she wants and, more importantly, she deserves. And so the new life begins... And what a way to celebrate than to hop on a plane to Central America?!! Even better than work is footing the bill - oh, I forgot to mention, I'm now a travel agent and not a bad one either. I made it to the big global ball held every year for those who reach their targets, and who could've planned it better - I just so happen to want a free tip to Mexico!

So here I am, writing to you from a sweaty cabana in tulum just south of cancun, and I've just enjoyed some poi practice with my nighttime lights and a couple of drinks ($3 a pop) with the hotel staff, who seem to be the only ones around. My cab driver tonight it was quiet and in my attempt to find out why, I think I understood that there were renovations so it was a bit harder to get to? That, or he said he wanted to have purple alien babies with my lamp post, my Spanish is pretty rusty.

I'll start with a quick overview of my journey to this point. We got a special line to check in st Melbourne airport. Then, whilst waiting in the line, the Virgin staff give us free pjs. Winner winner chicken dinner. I scored a window seat and a spare seat between another oval achiever, T, with a seat between. The plane was quick empty actually. There were a lot of upper management and support on the plane as their conference started the next day.

My first international experience with virgin was good, except for a couple of things:
Firstly, I was rationed with the bar. The only male hostie told me, on my 6th glass of red/ beer that I needed a half hour break. There are responsible service of alcohol did I know. And was I ok with that? Well no, nitwit, in fact if it wasn't such a blatantly obvious rhetorical question. I just sat dead pan and stated at him till he awkwardly moved on.

The connection on lax was painless enough, the bags I thought would be checked through put us in a stressful situation as we sat chewing our fingernails waiting for the bags. I of course was not chewing, primarily because I knew we had Plenty of time and I'm trying not to bite my nails anymore, especially with this fan dangled new glitter manicure I got for global. Fierce.

By this stage, I'd found some people going to tulum after cancun that had already organised a transfer so I just hopped on along to theirs. Main problem was that everything here runs at snails pace compared to Melbourne. Eventually we got moving, me practising my. Ok I am falling asleep Onto my face now. Will fish tomoz xx

The more lucid memory of yesterday...

Ok, to continue with yesterday's detail in a more lucid form... Where was I at? That's right, the airport. So I'd made friends with these guys from Sydney FC who were nice enough, not sure how keen they were to have me tag along in their private transfer to tulum but hey, it was happening. My other choices consisted of hiring a car and driving myself there (more economical but a little daunting solo) or paying through the nose for a shared shuttle.

The transfer company made it a little awkward but eventually let me on. Never asked me for cash though, which was strange. A different view of Mexico than what I'd imagined. I offered a couple of times to give cash to the others but in the end A waved me on and I left in another taxi to get from their 5 star resort just before el pueblo de tulum to my, uh, more authentic property on one of the closer beaches. I think we paid about the same price and there's is all inclusive. Oh well, mine does have a certain charm about it...

Got to the hotel about 8pm and ran for the shower. Things I notice instantly - there are mosquitoes that I hadn't planned for. There is no toilet paper. I have to speak my bad Spanish (not a bad thing at all). The people are friendly. And not bad looking. But I'm not in the mood to get into those shenanigans. I slip my long black summer dress on and sit by the low key bar sipping an India/o?? Beer. I also practise my poi on the beach, which makes me a few friends and gets some great shots on another Filipino girls camera. Hopefully she will send them to me.

Bad news is that no one seems to have heard of the horseriding the guys from Sydney were going on, worse yet they don't seem to like riding them on the beaches. Bummer. I think I may have to stick to visiting the ruins and lying on the beach working on my sweet ass white girl tan. Beuno. Life could be worse.

Now, where is this desayuno they speak of....