But the meowing continued, and got louder. So I decided to investigate.

I opened my front door and stepped out onto my front porch, only to be greeted by a long-haired little siamese kitty. She sat there right on my doorstep, as if she were home, and just waiting for her human to let her in the damn house already. As soon as I came out she meowed and got excited and started rubbing up against my leg. Bug and Sooki (my cats) were sitting in the window looking out, and as soon as they saw the “intruder” cat, they got mad. Well, Sooki did anyway. And “mad” is an understatement. There was much hissing and growling and territory-claiming coming from that little angelic mouth.

I checked the “intruder” cat for a collar or tags, but there were none. She didn’t look like a stray, though, so I figured it was just a neighborhood cat who was lost. I shooed her away, and went back inside.

But that little cat was sure she was home. She camped out on my doorstep and meowed for at least 30-40 minutes. I felt horrible. Poor little kitty just wanted to be home, and thought my house was the place she was supposed to be! She was lost. This is where I become infuriated at irresponsible cat owners who (a) let their cats roam free at night unsupervised and (b) do not put identification on their pets. A less animal-loving neighbor probably would have called Animal Control, which is basically a death sentence for the cat.

Eventually I fell asleep, and the kitty was gone by morning. I didn’t see her again until today.

This afternoon I got a knock on the door. I opened it to see my next door neighbor, with the long-haired siamese cat in his arms, struggling to get free.

“Is this your cat?” he asked. This neighbor knew we had cats, and so when this little kitty performed the meowing routine on his porch, his first instinct was to check with us, for which I am very grateful. (If my cats ever DID find an escape, it’s nice to know I have neighbors who would look out for them!)

I told my neighbor no, that is not my cat, but I knew of this cat. He’s obviously not a cat person, and didn’t know how to “hold” a kitty, and she was squirming uncomfortably in his arms. So I stepped outside and took the cat from him, relieving him of his cat-rescuing duties.

Fed up at whoever owns this cat, I decided I was going to do my best to find her home. I proceeded to walk with the cat in my arms from door to door, knocking on every door in my little area trying to find the kitties home. Of course, on a Tuesday afternoon, everyone was at work and I got no answers. About halfway through my journey the cat struggled out of my arms, so I hope that meant I was near her house. But she then proceeded to follow me like a puppy to every following house, and then all the way home back to my house. I knocked on at least 10 doors.

Unsuccessful in my pursuit for the cats home, I just left it on my porch again and came inside, frustrated and sad for the little kitty.

Then I got a crazy idea.

I went and found one of my cats old collars. Then I wrote the following note:

“Dear neighbor,
Is this your cat? I know she lives in this area, because a few times this week she has showed up on my porch thinking she is home. She seems Lost. I feel bad, because she has no tag and I have no way to help her find her way home. Here is a free cat collar. PLEASE go buy a pet ID tag at Petco for her to wear, so next time she is lost, she can find her way home. Thanks! ”

Then, just like they did with pigeons in ancient European times, I wrapped the note around the collar, with “READ ME” on the outside, and went and tied my message to the mystery cat.

I couldn’t help but laugh. I mean, who does that?! A crazy concerned cat lady, that’s who.

The mystery cat didn’t seem to mind the collar much. After I snapped it on, she proceeded to roll around in my hydrangea bush and under my day-lilies.

Hopefully next time I see her, she’s donning a fancy shiny name tag.

Now, three years later, I look back in awe at how much we’ve grown, and how amazing he is. I loved him then, but love him now even more than I ever knew was possible. He’s pretty fabulous… and I am lucky. I can’t wait for the next 60 years of our life together. xoxo

Steve, being a professional bass player, has been kept very busy being hired for weddings across the state, and beyond. One of the bands he plays with, Marmalade Hill, gets frequent super-fancy wedding gigs through the summer, many of them in Sun Valley, Idaho… a 5 hour drive away.

These gigs sporadically began in April, and he’s spent a couple weekends on the road with Marmalade Hill playing a Friday Night at Whiskey Jaques, then a wedding the next day, to return home on Sunday. But this month it’s been almost EVERY weekend that we’ve had a wedding.

Wedding season began for me on Memorial Day, where I took the 2 hour drive north to Logan, Utah to photograph the wedding of my sister’s childhood friend, Kristin to her boyfriend Corey. Their wedding was held at a park, and the weather was just perfect. My sister was also a bridesmaid, and I had a lot of fun taking photos that day!

The first weekend in June was our one and only *free* weekend. We celebrated my 32nd birthday by having a BBQ with friends on Saturday, then on Sunday (my actual Birthday), rowing on Oquirrh Lake in the morning, doing some shopping and relaxing in the afternoon, and going to a family dinner that evening.

The next weekend was the wedding of my dear friend Cindi to her longtime boyfriend Jason. Their wedding took place in Moab, Utah at a place called the Red Cliff’s Lodge, which overlooks the Colorado river rushing along giant red rock cliffs. We left early Saturday morning to get down there before the wedding began. I toted along all my photography gear… (because really… I can’t go to a wedding without it), and went a little crazy taking photos, while trying to stay out of the way of the photographer she had hired, the beautiful & talented Sarah Drown of Sparkle Photography. Their ceremony was one of the most emotional and touching I’d ever witnessed. We had a fabulous time!

After Cindi & Jason’s wedding on Saturday, we crashed at a hotel on main street in Moab. We woke the next morning ready to explore. We had planned to get together with all our friends and hike Delicate Arch in Arches National Park. The weather was scattered thunderstorms that day, though, so most people opted out of the hike. The only ones who ended up going were me, Steve, Sommer and Mike.

It was such a weird day, temperature wise. It would rain, then the sun would come out, then go back to rain again. I opted for pants instead of shorts, because cold breezes kept ripping through the canyon, and I really really hate being cold. Halfway into the hike, though, I really regretted the pants. Part of the Delicate Arch trail is a huge slickrock hill. It’s completely exposed… there is no shade or trees at all, and the sun absolutely beats down like you can’t imagine. I was so hot I was tempted to just take the pants OFF and hike in my knickers.

That area is just so gorgeous, though. I kept stopping to take photos. I could take photos in Southern Utah for hours and hours and never get tired of it.

After a long day of hiking, Steve and I packed up and drove home. We got home Sunday late evening, and pretty much crashed.

The very next weekend, I didn’t have to work anywhere… but Steve had a wedding gig he was playing in Sun Valley. This one was for some College Football star (whose name has slipped my mind) and it was some big fancy shindig. Steve and his band left early Saturday morning to make the drive and get there in time to set up by 2pm.

That evening, just as the wedding had started, I get a call from Steve. “You’ll never guess who I just spent the last 10 minutes talking to,” he said. “Guess. Someone famous.” Obviously, that’s too broad of a clue. I had no idea. So he just told me.

“Rush Limbaugh.”

Auuugh! Gross! I proceeded to laugh and ask questions… we both absolutely LOATHE that man. Steve has a real knack for only running into celebrities he hates. [Tangent: last month his band ran into Kobe Bryant while the Lakers were in town to play the Jazz in the playoffs. End Tangent.] Rush was a guest at the wedding… a friend of the Bride’s father.

“Why can’t I run into someone cool, like Jeff Bridges or something,” Steve asks. Then he sent me this phone pic. Rush is the disgruntled looking dude in the gray suit.

So Steve and his band spent the whole evening chatting with Rush on and off. Despite how much we dislike him, he said he’s perfectly nice in person. I had to text my Pop, who’s a Rush Limbaugh fan, and he told me to have Steve tell Rush that my Dad is a total “dittohead.” So Steve did. Rush liked that. (I guess a dittohead is someone who loves Rush’s show.) Steve also enlightened us all with a few fun observations. Rush is a horrible dancer, but will not hesitate to be in the front of the crowd dancing anyway. Rush is a chain smoker. He smoked cigarettes allllll night long back to back. (When Steve asked him why he wasn’t smoking a cigar, Rush told him they ‘take too long’.)

And finally… Rush is totally deaf. One hundred percent deaf! He has a cochlear ear implant that allows him to hear at all. He told the band that if he takes it out he can’t hear a single thing. Dan, one of the members of the band, being a total smartass replied, “Well, can you still hear YOURSELF talk?!”

Everyone laughed, but the joke went right over Rush’s head. He replied. “Yeah! I can hear myself.” Hah! [Another tangent: Dan is also the member of the band that said something so offensive in the microphone at the bar when they met Kobe Bryant, it caused Kobe & his entourage to storm out of the bar. But that's a story for another time!]

Steve got home that weekend late Sunday night. Again, exhausted, he crashed and got ready for another week of work.

Then, finally, to wrap up the weddings of June, last weekend I traveled to Moab again to shoot the wedding of Angela and Chris, the cute couple whose engagement photos I took in a lavender field last summer. Their wedding also took place at Red Cliffs Lodge… the same as Cindi & Jason. I was glad, because I was now familiar with the spot, and knew just how to prepare. I took Lindsay with me as my photo assistant. Steve had yet ANOTHER wedding he was playing on Saturday, but in Lehi. So again, we had to spend the weekend apart working at weddings.

Lindsay and I left early Saturday morning. We made great time and got to Moab with plenty of time to spare. We checked into our hotel, walked around the shops, and stopped to get ice cream and cupcakes. After filling up on sweets, we got dressed for the wedding and made the short drive up scenic UT-128 to the lodge.

Angela & Chris’ wedding was phenomenal! We started shooting photos at 3:30pm, and didn’t stop until after 10:30pm. Needless to say, I took thousands of photos, and my hand was totally cramped by the end of the day, but it was so worth it! Angela & Chris hired the band Great American Taxi to play their wedding… which featured the lead singer from Leftover Salmon. The band was just AWESOME and they played under the clear starry sky with a full moon. They also had a campfire set up, and even a fire thrower. Those two sure know how to throw a party!

I’m still working on editing the photos from that wedding, so I don’t have any to share here yet. But hopefully this week I’ll have them done and up on my Flickr and Portfolio site for all to see! They’re some of the best photos I’ve ever taken, I think!

Now, it’s July. And, with a sigh of relief… we’re finally relaxing. *whew!*

The band drove in two cars – Steve with the guitar player Ben in Ben’s truck, and the other two band members in another vehicle. They all arrived at the Glenwild Golf Club around 3:30 to set up their gear and get sound-checked. By 4:00 they were finished, and went to chill in their hotel rooms and wait for the reception to start, when they’d head back up and play their set. Steve called me around 6:30 to say hello. He was just hanging out in the hotel watching TV, and the other band members were taking naps. Wild bunch, those guys.

Around 7:30 they all hopped back into their vehicles to drive back up the long winding road to the golf club. Ben and Steve chatted lightly while driving up, just enjoying their time. When the road curved West, the sun was just setting. The sun was hanging just at the crest of the horizon – right in the perfect spot to blind any driver traveling west on that uphill road.

Ben had slowed to around 15-20 miles per hour, due to being so blinded by the sun. He squinted and could easily see the double yellow lines on the road about 20 feet ahead. He just couldn’t see them directly in front of the truck. So he kept his eyes on the yellow lines, and slowly traveled up the road, waiting for the next bend so he could see again.

Suddenly, they hit something. Steve had been watching the road too, and had no idea what they had hit. Neither of them had seen anything. Not a single thing. But suddenly, Steve felt his body fly forward, being stopped only by the force of his seat belt and a massive airbag smacking his face, and the entire front of his body.

By the time Steve realized that they’d been in an accident, the airbag was already deflating. The nose of the truck was about 8 feet in the air, the back tires still on the ground. His head was a high-pitched loud ringing, and he could hear the constant sound of a horn going off, stuck in the honking position. Steve sat, stunned, taking an assessment of the situation. Am I hurt? Can I feel my toes? Can I move my neck? What the hell just happened?!

Ben reacted differently. After about 5 seconds of being stunned and frozen, he opened his door and rolled out – falling a good 5-8 feet to the ground, landing on his knees. Then he saw some sort of fluid dripping out of the truck, and smoke. He immediately ran to the other side of the truck, and tried to open Steve’s passenger door.

The door wouldn’t open. It was stuck. It must have been adrenaline, but he pried the door open, and yelled to Steve. “Get out! Get out now!” Steve finally unfroze and ripped off his seat belt and jumped out of the car. As soon as he, too, saw the liquid draining from the truck, and all the smoke, he too ran to get far away from a truck that could be about to explode.

Thankfully, no fire or explosion happened. Turns out the fluid was some sort of fluid associated with the airbags deploying. But they still stood, aghast in what had happened. They had plowed directly into a giant stone pillar in the middle of the damn road.

It’s hard to tell from the photo how large these pillars are. They’re a good 10 feet tall, and Ben’s truck had driven right into and ONTO the one inconveniently placed there in the center of the road. Blinded by the sun, neither of them had seen it. AT ALL.

And once they looked around, it was obvious why. This was private property, owned by the HOA of Glenwild Country Club. They had taken the yellow line below the pillar, and jutted it out to the right. Then the yellow line abruptly stops, and begins again 10 feet to the left. If you’re driving up that road, and can only see the line about 20 feet in front of you, it’s guiding you directly into this stone pillar.

As you can see more clearly in this photo… the sun would absolutely BLIND anyone on this stretch of road when the sun is setting. And when that happens, you can’t see directly in front of you… you can squint and see about 20 feet ahead. Look at that yellow line down the road. If you follow that, you’ll drive right into this ridiculous obstruction. The yellow line just breaks – and jumps to the left. It’s a total hazard. It is absolutely infuriating.

Thankfully, Steve and Ben escaped with only minor injuries. They are 100% sure that the airbag saved both of their lives. The airbag, from the impact of Steve’s body, had broken the windshield in front of him. Without the airbag, he’d have gone sailing right through, or at the very least gotten a horrible head injury or worse.

The police came, and had an ambulance on the way, but canceled it once they checked the two of them out and found them to be okay. Steve got hurt the worst. His knees are both badly bruised and scraped up. His elbows are both badly bruised. His right forearm has a bad abrasion – almost like a rug burn from an airbag. His chin is scratched. But the worst is his left hand. It took the brunt of his impact, and he has a huge swollen bump on the back of his hand. It’s all bruised up, and he has a big cut that was bleeding a lot right after the crash. His left wrist is all cut up and swollen, too. His whole body aches. Every joint. His neck, his back, everything aches.

The police officers on the scene were really great. The band didn’t want to ruin the wedding reception, and were determined to make it up there and play, despite the grim circumstances. After about 15 minutes, they were finished with the police, and the truck was being towed away. The band all piled into the other vehicle, and drove up the rest of the way to the reception.

When they walked in, everyone cheered. They must have all been running on pure adrenaline – because they hopped on stage and played until about 2:00 in the morning. The wedding party had an amazing time, and the band put on a great show. Steve played the whole set with an injured hand, but said he didn’t care. After such a close call, he just stood on stage feeling blessed. Music sounded better. Life felt better. He had a true appreciation for the close call they’d just had. He is sure that the airbag saved his life.

Needless to say, the bridal party tipped the band very well at the end of the night.

Steve woke up this morning and his hand was swollen and blue – and he couldn’t move it. They elevated it and he took a bunch of Ibuprofin and pretty quickly the swelling went down and he’s able to move it – but it hurts.

I couldn’t WAIT to get him home and into my arms. Car accidents are so so so scary. I can’t even fathom losing him. I slept all night just having nightmares about having to sleep alone in my bed without him forever. It made me want to vomit. Now he’s home, upstairs sleeping off his aches and pains. I’m so thankful for that airbag. Without it, not only would his life have maybe been over last night, but mine would have been over too.

Little did I know that his gift last year was the beginning of a strange sort of addiction. I am now a photography gearhead. It starts with the DSLR camera. Then, you begin to learn about all the different lenses and flashes and the different things you can do with them. Then you realize lenses are just as expensive as the camera, if not more.

Over the past year I’ve saved up and invested in a few key lenses to add to my collection. It’s all about fast aperture… lenses with an aperture of 2.8 or less. But fast lenses don’t come cheap! I purchased a nice prime 35mm 1.8 lens. Then, a few months ago I splurged on a 70-200 2.8 lens, which will be ideal for portrait sessions and weddings. The lens that came with my DSLR was the 18-55mm 3.5-5 lens, which is a great lens for a “kit” lens, but the slower aperture just wasn’t cutting it. I’ve been wanting a fast 2.8 lens to cover the 18-50 focal range for a while. I feel like it will complete my lens repertoire for the most part. (Famous last words, I know.)

Nikon’s lenses in this range are over $2400. That is an obscene amount of money, and I can’t imagine justifying spending that kind of cash on anything other than purchasing a car, lasik eye surgery, or emergency vet bills. It just ain’t gonna happen. Probably ever.

Luckily, Sigma makes this same lens for much much much less. Thousands less, actually. You have to be careful with third-party lenses, though. So I read review after review after review of their newer 18-50 2.8 HSM Macro Lens, and all of them rated it at the very top of the class. “A must have for every serious photographer” was the general consensus. So I’ve been saving my pennies.

When Steve asked me a couple weeks ago what I wanted for my birthday this year, I jokingly said I wanted this lens. There wasn’t a shred of seriousness in the comment. I hardly expected a gift like this, especially after last year’s splurge. “Well, how about we go halfsies on it,” he proposed. I definitely didn’t expect this, since even half was still a splurge as far as birthday gifts go. But he was serious, and pretty much insisted. Wooo!

I checked the local camera shops, who had the lens on backorder. Then I checked Adorama & Amazon, who also had it on backorder. Finally, I found B&H Photo who still had a few in stock. This is a popular lens! I had to act quick if I didn’t want to wait for it for 4-6 weeks. Even though my birthday is still two weeks away, I ordered the lens immediately.

Today, it came.

Isn’t she pretty? Okay okay, only other photo gearheads will think so. It’s sturdy in your hand, heavy but not too heavy, nice and solid.

I tore the box open and snapped it onto my camera. Then Steve and I headed to the nearest park for it’s maiden voyage.

Steve insisted on actually EATING on our lunch break, even though I just wanted to take photos for an entire hour, so I only got a few photos. But the few I got make me very excited for the fun things I’m going to be able to do with this baby! I’m thinking it’ll live on my camera 90% of the time.

It has fabulous Macro abilities. I was able to capture this without even getting as close as this lens will allow, and while the wind was blowing:

It also can do wide angle, with a nice shallow depth of field. I had Steve brush the bagel crumbs off his mouth to test this nice feature:

I have a couple portrait sessions and a few wedding shoots coming up… and I absolutely can’t wait to use this lens in action.  Not to mention, it’s finally SPRING and SUMMER and it’s time again to take some great Landscape photography. With it’s wide-angle capabilities (and my new polarizing filter) this lens is also perfect for Landscapes.

Thanks, Steve for this great gift! You outdid yourself. Again!

We passed a big obtrusive semi truck which was in the lane to the left of us, and once the Semi was no longer obstructing our view, we found ourselves in a the lane right next to this:

My jaw dropped. What in the world?! Spaceship? Art piece? Pile of junk? It was covered in solar panels, being towed by truck also covered in solar panels. The center of the “ship” had an area that looks like it was made for a person to be inside. It was covered in little metal trinket-type things. I think I see a colander in there, a pink flower… a pinwheel? There appears to be an oven mitt sticking out of a slot in on the left side. A green sticker with what looks like an alien head graphic is tuck to it. And best of all? There is a red flasher light stuck to it.

The truck had California plates. It was travelling South. Where was it going? Desert Rocks Music Fest? It’s too early for Burning Man, right?

All I know, is I want to see this baby running.

[UPDATE! Found it! One observant Flickr follower knew exactly what this baby is. It was a feature at the recent Live Green SLC Festival at Library Square. It's a solar and wind powered DJ booth built entirely from found and reclaimed materials! Looky here! And see the Solar Saucer website here!]

We slept in, then woke up and ate some breakfast. We hadn’t used all the groceries we bought earlier in the week, so we tried to eat as much as we could.

The rain had pretty much stopped, however it was still overcast and quite windy. It was warm, though. We still wanted to go to the beach even though it wasn’t exactly swimming weather, and there was no sunshine to speak of. We also wanted to find a place to buy a couple souvenirs. Steve packed a small bag with a few towels (in case we decided to go ahead and get wet) and we headed out of our condo mid-morning. I just took my cash – not my camera – because I was tired of getting stuck in the rain and worrying about photographic equipment.

Since it was so warm, we decided to walk. The Coral Mar is located at the end of a road called Pok-ta-Pok which is on the lagoon. The beach is a couple miles away. You either have to take a taxi, or walk about a mile to the bus stop. It was nice, so we chose walking. We walked along Pok-ta-Pok admiring the architecture, the golf course, the lagoon, and the views. It’s a golf-course community, and mostly lined with residences. The homes along Pok-ta-Pok are amazing. Big Mexican haciendas. They were huge and white, surrounded by large walls and incredible landscaping. Just walking along that road was a total delight! Several times I was tempted to just go hang out in their front yards! How amazing would it be to own a home like this?!

Once we got to the end of the road we hopped on the bus, which was so full it was standing room only. Not only that, but we had to stand on the little stairs right at the entrance to the bus! Um, you think you’re at capacity bus driver?! We kept getting shoved aside so people could get on or of, and after a short time we just ended up just hopping off.

We were on the hotel strip now, where the hotels line the beachfront. We went to this place called the Plaza Forum Mall where there’s an easy public access point to the beach.

On our way through, we saw a guy with a spider monkey on his shoulder standing there in the plaza, taking tips from tourists wanting photos with his monkey. The monkey seemed okay despite his leash and being whored out to googly-eyed tourists all day. We watched from a short distance as people posed for photos with the monkey. Then we saw the Monkey take a poop right on the dude’s back. It was so gross, it just rolled off his back and plopped onto the floor. Just then the guy noticed us and asked, “Do you want to see the monkey?” I didn’t feel like paying him anything, so I told him I didn’t have a way to take photos or anything, and then told him that he’d just been pooped on. “Yeah, I know,” he said, as if it happens every day all day long. Then he asked if I wanted to hold him. When I hesitated he made sure I knew it was free, he only charged for photos with the monkey. I was a little grossed out at the prospect of fresh monkey poop, but before I knew it this little guy was in my hands. His feet felt like, well, HANDS. Human hands. It was fabulously cool! He was eating little pieces of fruit and looking at me with his big beady eyes. It was adorable! I then handed him to Steve, and tried to pet the monkeys back. “Um, he doesn’t like being touched,” the guy said, just as the monkey slapped my hand away. The monkey hit me! With his little adorable fist! Softly, but still! Hilarious!! I was really glad we held him – it was quite cool. I found a photo of someone else with the same monkey here.

Afterwards we desperately felt the need to find a sink and wash our entire arms. We walked right into a Chile’s restaurant and straight through to the bathrooms before anyone could stop us. I scrubbed my arms, rinsed them, then scrubbed them again. Didn’t want monkey poo germs all over me!

Feeling hungry after walking through Chiles, we decided to splurge on one last meal. We went to Carlos and Charlies, and ordered some yummy food and guacamole. It was great – until we got the bill. This was the one time the whole trip where I felt truly truly RIPPED OFF. They were charging us $13 for one beer! Sure, it was a draft beer and larger than your average bottle, but ONE BEER nonetheless. Not even fancy beer! $13 is way over the line. They had an entire dining room full of Americans (it was obvious), so I paid with a $50 and asked for my change in US Dollars (cause I knew they’d try to screw me on the conversion.) They tried to tell me that they don’t have ANY US dollars. Only pesos. I pointed out that they had a restaurant full of Americans, and they still just lied about it, and insisted on giving me change in Peso’s at way less than the normal dollar/peso exchange. We were mad! So if you go to Cancun, avoid Carlos and Charlies.

Other than that, though, the rest of the day was fabulous. We walked out to the beach and took off our shoes to walk along the shore. We spent quite a while out there, collecting seashells and wading in the ocean. It was quite stormy so the waves were ENORMOUS. Only crazy deathwish surfers dared swim out from the shore. It was so fun to watch them out there, though, battling the waves! I filled an empty water bottle with the powder-fine sand, and filled my pockets (well, Steve’s pockets) with seashells that the stormy water washed onto shore. We kept getting surprised by a sudden strong wave and we both ended up pretty soaked. It was great, though, because the water was amazingly warm! Think bathwater. That warm!

At the end of the beach the land bends, and there is a wall of rock that juts out into the ocean to block the even bigger waves from this section of beach. We climbed up onto the rocks and stood in awe watching the biggest waves I’ve ever seen crash loudly onto the rocks, shooting white water into the air and showering us with ocean mist! I was reallly wishing I had my camera, but I did snap a few shots with my cell phone…

It was just wonderful and I didn’t want to leave. I was wishing for more days at that beach! It began to sprinkle rain, though, so, covered in sand, we began to head back.

On our way we stopped at a few small souvenir shops with a very particular thing in mind. We had seen these Mexican Wrestler masks everywhere, and every time we’d see one and Steve would put one on, I’d crack up with laughter. We finally decided that we absolutely had to break down and buy some, so we were on the hunt for the perfect ones. We finally found them, and after bartering the price down to a reasonable number (aka cheap) we bought one for each of us. The guy told us that Steve’s mask is Nacho Libre, and mine is El Mistierio. First thing we did when we got back to the Coral Mar? Took these photos:

We couldn’t stop laughing! Those masks are awesome. I have a feeling they’ll get lots of use over the years by many friends and family.

We spent the evening hanging out at the Palapa at the Coral Mar, saying goodbye to the friends we’d met, and packing. Every piece of clothing we had with us was wet from the humidity. It had been over 80% humidity the entire time we’d been there, and nothing felt dry – ever. We tried to blow-dry things before packing them away to avoid the mildew smell that would come after unzipping the suitcase back in Utah! Haha.

All in all, it was the perfect vacation. We left the next morning feeling completely rejuvenated, relaxed, and happy. Cancun played a funny joke on us, though, on our way to the airport Saturday morning. It got sunny. HA!

But when my alarm(s) went off, I was immediately wide awake. I had one thing on my mind; a worry that nearly kept me up all night: the weather. The adventure in the rain the previous day had been less than encouraging. There was a tropical storm in Cancun, and it had rained 21 inches in the previous 24 hours. The tour we had scheduled for today was a full-day of adventure and fun, none of which would be enjoyable in the rain. But these tours? Once you book them? You’re still going. There are no refunds for inclement weather. They still go, and you’re either in, or just out the money. And it’s not a cheap tour.

So the first thing I did when I opened my eyes was hop out of bed and look outside.

It was completely overcast and still raining. The sun was just rising, but you couldn’t tell because that storm cloud was black. The storm was here to stay. No getting around it.

But, being the adventurers that we are, we packed our day bag (which included my nice camera, of course. Can’t leave that behind for what we had scheduled that day) and walked downstairs to wait for our tour van. The night before I had fashioned a giant poncho with a hood out of giant trash bags and duct tape, so I packed it in my bag and felt slightly prepared for the worst, but I was still worried. I may be able to keep my camera dry, but there were lots of activities scheduled that just wouldn’t be fun in the rain.

The van picked us up at 7:00 a.m. Mary and Becky were along for the ride, and none of us were too overjoyed to be up that early in the morning. The van stopped at one other hotel and picked up a party of 15 (we had another vehicle caravanning) on their senior trip. About 8 tired-looking teenagers and their chaperone parents. Everyone piled in, all our expressions matched with a look of concern.

Our tour guide was named Saul. He was full of pep, completely awake, and seemed unfazed by the rain. He told us to settle in for the 2 hour ride inland to our first destination, and warned us not to look out the front window because, “In Mexico, we don’t drive, we survive.” He then turned on the A/C full blast, even though we were all already a bit cold from the weather.

As we drove, the rain got worse. Harder and harder it poured down, and I got more and more upset. Everyone had long faces, and I really didn’t know what to do. About an hour into the ride, the storm kicked it up a notch and began absolutely POURING. Deafening rain slapping the windows. The A/C was still on, the sun was nowhere to be seen, and I was freezing. That was it. I was FED UP.

I looked around, and my mood was matched by everyone else in the van. “Gee, it’s nice that we’re going to pay all this money to sit in a van all day. I’m not getting out and kayaking in this weather.”

Yeah, Kayaking. On the schedule for today was: Driving into the middle of the jungle, kayaking along a stream and across a lagoon, hiking deeper into the jungle, going down into a cenote (an underground cave with water at the bottom), rappelling, zip lining, and exploring the ancient mayan ruins of Coba. Sounds amazing right? But in rain so hard that you may as well be underwater? Not so much.

I was almost ready to just cry. I had been looking forward to this SO much, and there was nothing I could do. Saul the tour guide had popped in this crazy CD of Latin/Muzak/Bossa Nova renditions of Guns n’ Roses greatest hits. “Bossa n’ Roses” is what it was called. Surreal as could be, to say the least. It was beyond silly, but nothing could lift my mood. I sat in silence listening to it. “November rain” was just ending. Perfect.

Then, suddenly, the next song came on.  The first thing I heard was the soft-voiced latin diva singing the lyrics…

“Welcome to the jungle, we take it day by day…”

And at just that moment I looked ahead, and the clouds parted! This huge dark gray raincloud suddenly split, right ahead of us, to reveal a glorious blue sky. The rain stopped, and warm sunshine hit my arms through the window.

“Welcome to the jungle… Watch it bring you to your knees… Ooohh…”

Wide eyed we all just looked around at each other. Even the tour guide Saul was amazed. None of us thought there was a chance in hell we’d find the sun. But there it was, in all it’s glory, welcoming us to the jungle. We couldn’t help but laugh! The next song that came on? Patience. Of course. Ha!

We had driven out of the storm, which evidently was just parked along the coast. Inland was free of clouds threatening any kind of rain whatsoever. Thank the Mayan Gods.

At this point in the trip inland we entered a series of small Mexican villages. This was a true taste of authentic Mexico. There were skinny dogs all over, I think we counted over 30. The homes were brightly colored and built from what looked like random scrap metal or cinderblock, with thatch rooftops and little walled-in courtyards in front of every home. Jungle trees and plants were overgrown everywhere, and road-side workers with machetes chopped down the ground-covering plants near the highway to keep it clear. I can’t really even figure out the best way to describe it without sounding disrespectful – it was absolutely impoverished looking, but just beautiful all the same. Just seeing it made it all worth it even before we got to any of the fun things we had planned.

Eventually the van turned off the small highway onto a dirt road, and Saul turned down the music, which at this point was playing a hilarious version of “Sweet Child of Mine”. He went on to announce that we had arrived, and began to tell us about the Mayan culture and teach us a few Mayan words like “Ko’ox” (Lets Go! Pronounced “Cosh!”), “Dios bo’otik” (Thank You. Pronounced “June Boutique”). Still full of way too much pep, Saul was explaining to this by absolutely shouting, despite the fact that we were all in one van, which made it really hard not to laugh.

We then got to our first stop. Kayaking through a lagoon, to a hike through the jungle, to the cenote. Saul told us to only wear our swimsuits, tennis shoes, and a towel. He said to leave everything else in the van and it would be “pretty safe”. Pretty safe? Well, okay then. I stripped off my shorts and tank, and hopped out of the van into the sunshine in just my swimsuit. We then hiked a little bit and found ourselves at the edge of a shallow muddy looking stream. Two by two, we hopped into sea kayaks, and were handed oars, and pushed off in the right direction. As we rowed along the stream, I relished the sun beating down on my skin.

Eventually the stream opened up into a large lagoon, which looked like it was plucked right out of those Africa nature-channel shows where elephants are walking across it. It was gorgeous. On the other side of the lagoon was a dock. Once we got there we hopped out of the kayak, ready to hike into the thick jungle.

As we hiked deeper and deeper into the trees, we were again reminded of the Mayan culture. They told us that the people here were all Mayan, and still worshipped the earth and the Mayan Gods like they had for thousands of years. These trees, and this jungle, was sacred. After a while we got to a small clearing where an old man was waiting for us. He had to be about 90 years old, all dressed in white. He was a Mayan shaman, and there was a big table built by trees set up, with flowers arching over it to create a beautiful shrine. He was there to bless us with the protection of the Mayan Gods.

We were all asked to stand in a big half-moon semi circle. This old man then took a piece of Copal (an amber-like substance created from the sap of a nearby tree) and put it into a little tin bowl on a stick, and set on fire. He then came around to each one of us in the circle, the smoke from the Copal billowing out onto us, chanting in this ancient Mayan language. He went around the circle three times. We all stood there completely silent and in awe, in the middle of the jungle. The smell of the Copal was absolutely wonderful, and the whole experience gave me chills. This was an ancient Mayan ritual that was required of anybody who wanted to enter their sacred cenote, and an experience I will never forget.

Let me take a minute to tell you what a cenote is. I didn’t have any idea before this trip. The Yukatan has no mountains, and their entire water supply comes from a series of underground rivers that run across the entire peninsula. A cenote is an underground cavern, exposing part of an underground river. Usually you get into a cenote by a small opening, like a cave. The water inside cenotes is absolutely perfect and pure and crystal clear. The rain water seeps through the limestone, which filters out all the impurities. (You can see why I didn’t want to be in a cave underground with a river in a torrential downpour!)

The cenote we were hiking to was called Chi Much, which means Frogs Mouth. Shortly after the Mayan ritual, we walked to the cenote, and I immediately understood the name. There was a small hole in the ground, that looked like a frogs mouth, with steep wooden stairs descending into it. They made each of us rinse off under an outdoor shower to make sure that no sunscreen or bug spray or contaminants of any kind would enter their sacred cenote water. We stripped off our shoes, set aside our towels, then we all gathered around the opening to the cenote, ready to enter.

“You, Jenny. You’re first.” he said. So down I went, backwards, into a pitch black hole in the ground, no idea what to expect.

After I got down below ground, I turned around on the stairs/ladder to a sight I will never ever forget. The small hole had opened up into a huge beautiful cavern with stalactites hanging down everywhere! There was a single light inside illuminating the walls and the water down below. I was still near the top, with three more staircases to continue down until I reached the water. It was so beautiful and surreal – it took my breath away. I walked down the stairs to the tiny wooden deck they’d built at the waters edge. I looked down to see nothing but the floor of the cave several yards below me. I was looking through the water, but it was so still and clear that you couldn’t tell where the surface of the water began. It was absolutely magical!

One by one the rest of our group came behind me, and we all gathered there on the deck. “The best way to get in, is to just jump.” they told us. “Who’s gonna go first?” I volunteered.

It was completely disorienting, standing there on the edge of the deck. I didn’t know how long I’d be in the air before I hit the water, because it was hard to tell exactly where the surface of the water was. So I just smiled and leaped off.

I hit the water and it was warm! It was honestly the most refreshing water I’ve ever been in. I felt like I was swimming in pure Evian water or something. One by one the rest jumped in after me, and I swam over to an edge where the water got more shallow, and I could sit in it. I had to collect myself, and look around. It was so beautiful, I had to just sit back and take it all in!

We swam for a while down there, laughing at our voices echoing off the ancient underground walls. Then it was time to move on to the next part of the adventure…

We hiked back through the jungle following a different route, and eventually met back up with the vans. The next stop was only a short drive away, in a place they called the Mayan Village. It was a little town, mostly jungle. We were here to go rappelling into a deep jungle ravene, then zip line across it.

Once we got to the edge of the ravene, they strapped us into harnesses and gave us helmets. One by one we dropped off the edge of the cliff to repel into what I can only describe as a scene straight out of Fern Gully. There were vines mimicking the rope streaming down off the edges of the cliff, and the entire place was moist and thick with jungle flora.

After the rappel, we hiked through the ravene to a staircase which led us back up to the top, on the opposite side. At the top of the ravene another Mayan elder was there with more Copal smoke to bless us again as he handed us our zip line gear. I found that funny.

After another short walk, we climbed the zip tower, and proceeded to zoom across the ravene at lightening speed!

I wanted to do it again and again, but it was time for lunch. Saul led the group to a big Palapa with tables all set and a huge authentic Mayan buffet set up for us. It was prepared by adorable little Mayan women, and was just delicious. I’d describe it better, but I couldn’t really identify half of the things I ate, but they were all really good.

After lunch we shopped around the Mayan village for a bit before loading back into the vans and heading to our final destination of the day: The Coba Ruins.

Coba is a series of ancient Mayan ruins that date as far back as the year 400, and was occupied by up to 50,000 people until around the 1400s. It has many ruins and temples to explore, including the ball parks where the ancient Mayans would play “Pok ta Pok”, a crazy ball game involving human sacrifice.

The biggest of the ruins at Coba is called Nohoch Mul, which means The Great Pyramid. It’s 138 feet tall, and the tallest pyramid in the Yukatan. Saul guided us through the first few ruins, telling us fascinating stories about the ancient Mayans who lived there. Then we all split up, and were left with free time to explore as we wished. The walk to the Nohoch Mul was about 1.25 miles, with many other ruins along the way, through beautiful jungle pathways. There was a little Palapa at the entrance where you could rent a bike for 34 pesos. We had been wanting bikes the entire trip, so we rented our bikes without hesitation. We hopped on our rusty old bikes, and headed up the jungle trail towards Nohoch Mul.

Once we arrived, we found a little hand-painted sign that said “Bike Parking” tied to a tree, and dropped off our bikes. There stood Nohoch Mul, in all it’s glory. Taking a deep breath, we began our ascent up the steep stone stairs to the top.

The climb was hot and definitely a workout. I think if we were at a higher elevation (aka, Utah) the thin air would have made the climb much harder. But we got to the top without problem, and sat back and enjoyed the view. You could see for miles! You could even see the tops of other ruins poking out above the jungle canopy, and a river in the distance. It was breathtaking!

After resting and taking in the views (and soaking up the sun), we made our way back down. We continued riding around the trails, finding more ruins and exploring other temples, before returning our bikes and meeting up with the rest of the group.

It had been a long long eventful day. By this time is was almost 4:00 in the afternoon, and we were exhausted!

During the van ride home, and as we got closer and closer to the coast, the sun slowly faded away and the overcast sky returned. We had spent our day in the sunshine, and I was satisfied. Cancun was still cloudy, but I no longer cared.

Halfway home, Saul pulled into the AllTourNative office/restaurant, and bought the entire group a shot of tequila. It was there ready for us when we got there, with sliced lime and salt all ready for us. We stood in a circle, happy and sunkissed, and shouted “Salut!” before we dumped the warm tequila down our throats. It’s amazing how tequila just warms you from the inside. In hindsight, I’m amazed that this was the one and only shot of tequila I had the entire time I was in Mexico.

We arrived back at the Coral Mar Condo ready to crash. We spent the rest of the day reading and relaxing, and relishing from the full day of adventure we’d had. I’ve included a few photos here, but there are so so so many more to look at on our Flickr page. I highly suggest you go take a look!

Next up… our last day in Cancun…

We slept in, woke up, made breakfast, then eventually sauntered down to the Palapa to see what was going on. Mary and Becky were down there talking to another couple they’d just met. Jim and Micky from Wisconsin. They had all been talking about taking the bus down to Playa Del Carmen and hanging out on that beach for the day. Becky had been there before, and guaranteed it was beautiful. Sounded good to us, so we joined the party.

We took a taxi from our condo into downtown Cancun, and the bus station. There, we bought our round-trip tickets to Playa, only $14 per person. We hopped right onto the air conditioned bus, and settled in. This was not your classic “Mexican Chicken Bus” type of ride, it was a kooshy motor coach with a movie playing. The movie was “Swing Vote”, but it was all in spanish, with no subtitles.

The ride to Playa Del Carmen from Cancun was about 30 minutes give or take. On the way down there we were all laughing at Utah’s weather forecast for the day. Snow. Ha ha ha oh did we laugh as we looked outside at the sunshine and palm trees. But little did we know, were were seeing the last of the sunshine we’d see for days.

The bus pulled into Playa Del Carmen, and drove through town. Out the windows, we saw true Mexico. Not fancy americanized Cancun… real Mexico. The homes were shacks at best, brightly painted often with ornate gates opening into a small courtyard in front of the shoebox homes. Many walls and roofs were put together with random odd-shaped bits of scrap metal. Cluttered belongings overflowed out of the homes into their yards. Tiny markets and shops on each corner. It was quite a sight to see.

The bus station was only one block from the beach, on a road that runs parallel to the water. Along this road are shops galore, all offering classic Mexican handicraft goods and souvenirs. Musicians sit on the corner, artists offering their paintings on another corner. Little restaurants everywhere with open patio dining rooms offering beer and tacos and “happy hour” all day long. We were all starving, so we found one little restaurant and settled in.

Steve and I ordered a fish taco plate to share, and Corona’s with limes. Happy Hour there is always 2 for 1 drinks, so we figured we’d order one order, and each have one. The waiters had a different idea. They brought us each two. We found a way to be okay with that.

The food was excellent, of course. And street musicians serenaded us while we ate. The sun was hot… and just as we finished eating and began to walk to the beach, the clouds rolled in. Our sunny blue sky quickly became lightly overcast, turning the sky white.

We walked along the beach for a little while, and when a few sprinkles of rain began to fall, Steve and I decided we’d wait the rain out and do some shopping first, then come back to the beach. The rest of them did their own thing. I just wanted to walk around and shop and take photos. So Steve and I went back up to the road with the shops.

The scene was just beautiful. So many colors, so many amazing buildings. The plants and trees were just breathtaking, with cactus and flowers and tropical flora of all sorts growing along the street. It was a feast for the photographers eye, to be sure.

As we wandered in and out of shops, we were constantly being hollered at be merchants offerings us “great deals” and trying to usher us deeper into their shops. At one point, we turned down a little off-shoot road where the merchants got even pushier. We were walking away from one guy who kept asking, “What you looking for? Jewelry?” “No,” we said, as we walked away. “Looking for decorations? Clothings? Beautiful dress?” he asked again, following us. “No, Gracias,” we insisted. Then he got closer, and in a softer voice asked, “Looking for something… illegal?” “No!” we insisted, and picked up our step. We then realized maybe we had walked down the wrong street, and quickly high-tailed it back the other way.

After shopping and exploring some more, eventually we found our way back to the beach. There were local boys playing soccer, birds exploring for food, but still no sunshine. The clouds had not let up. It continued to sprinkle rain, and the day was closing in onto late afternoon. It was clear that our sunny “beach day” was not going to happen. No big deal, we figured. We got to explore Playa Del Carmen, and even though we weren’t sunning ourselves, hanging on that beach was still just spectacular.

We met up with our friends in a beach-side bar. Before long we found ourselves out in the sand goofing around, taking photos of ourselves jumping in the air. I guess I can be a bit influential when in Mexico. Everyone was more than eager and willing to pose and jump for photos. It was fabulous.

The sun was beginning to set, and the rain we getting heavier, so we hopped back on the bus and made our way back to Cancun.

By the time we got there, the rain was really coming down.

We decided to make a relaxing evening out of it and stay out of the rain. We made some dinner and just chilled out at the Coral Mar until we finally fell asleep.

Wednesday morning, we woke up hoping for sun. I really desperately wanted to go bake in the sun on the beach. But when I opened my eyes… the skies were gray. I hoped up, opened the laptop, and checked the forecast. Rain and thunderstorms were forecasted every single day for the rest of the week. The satellite images showed a giant red cloud locked above Cancun, unmoving. I was devastated. Thunderstorms for the rest of our vacation? It can’t be!

Wednesday, day 5, ended up being the worst day of the trip. I’ll call it the “trying to accept the rain day of disappointment.” We ended up having one goal for the day: find an ATM with english words, and get a bit more cash. Maybe take some photos at the beach and hotel zone. Seems simple, right? Mary, Becky, Steve and I all had planned on walking, but the rain had started up again, and I had all my fancy camera gear with me. So we caught a cab.

After finding our ATM in a weird little mall called Plaza Caracol (a dump of a mall, really) we were starving. The mall didn’t have any restaurants, so we had to cross the street to where all the fun stuff was. We walked out of the mall to even more rain. Since I had my camera in a bag on my back, I was legitimately worried about it soaking my equipment.

I decided I couldn’t risk it, and went back into the mall to find an umbrella. After searching about 10 different shops, I finally found a crappy little umbrella at a little drugstore shop. I had just been to the ATM, and only had large US bills on me (no pesos). The umbrella was only about 5 or 6 bucks – in Pesos. But since I paid in US dollars, they gave me a totally crappy conversion and the purchase ended up costing me almost $15! I knew they had swindled me, but there wasn’t a whole lot I could do about it.

We walked out into the pouring rain, and the wind suddenly picked up. We only needed to cross the street to get to a little restaurant. Simple, right? Well, as soon as I stepped outside the wind blew my umbrella inside out, twisting the metal into spirals. No time to stop, we just ran, and once we got in the middle of the street, Steve slipped and fell, very nearly twisting his knee right out of it’s socket. I was getting soaked, Steve was limping in pain, and cars were coming. We continued on, quite upset, and finally made it to “MexTreme”, a little cantina. My umbrella was so screwed up it was un-closeable, so I just bent it back into shape the best I could, busting one of the metal arms in the process.

By this time I was PISSED. It was raining on my vacation, and I had just overpaid for an umbrella that didn’t work. SO mad.

We ate another delicious meal (the food in Mexico is just so good) and Steve fed me beer to try to ease my rage. We sat in a covered patio area, open to the outside, but safe from the rain.

After a short while, the heavy rain turned into an absolute MONSOON. The water was pouring like waterfalls off every rooftop. The patio umbrellas covering tables outside ripped in half from the weight of the water. Water formed deep pools on the sidewalks, and in the gutters. I saw other unfortunate souls out in the rain with broken umbrellas much worse than mine… the fabric ripped completely from the downpour. It was a tropical storm of epic proportions. So bad, in fact, that I went from pissed off to absolutely in awe. It was an amazing sight to see. We were getting misted and sprayed from the outside air even sitting 20 yards from the doors. All of us were wet. It actually ended up being quite fun and completely hysterical. Here we all were, dressed for the beach, unprepared for the rain, with a broken rip-off umbrella, trapped in a cantina in Cancun, with a torrential downpour outside.

Once it was time to go, we wrapped my camera bag in large plastic sacks, and succumbed to the rain outside. We were able to catch a Taxi fast, actually stealing it from another couple who wasn’t brazen enough to wait for it in the rain. (You snooze you loose sucka!) As we dove into the backseat of the taxi as fast as we can, the streets had turned into rushing rivers. At least 1 to 2 feet of water flooded the roads, and the rain was still coming down like a bat out of hell.

Our taxi driver was on the wrong side of the road, and the closest “return” where he could do a U-turn was blocked off by cones. WIth a smirk, the taxi driver asked one of us to get out and move the cones. Steve was like, “…uh…” and before he could answer, Becky said, “I’ll do it!” She hopped out, barefoot and soaking, into the road and moved a few cones aside. After hopping back into the taxi, he swooped on through moving into the stopped traffic going the other direction.

We were all giggling until we heard a big pounding on the window. A police officer had witnessed our misbehavior, and was not happy. He was walking along the side of the car banging on the windows to roll them down. We all shut up really fast, visualizing Becky getting thrown into a Mexican jail for pulling that move. The taxi driver rolled down the window, and argued with the cop for a minute. I don’t know a single thing they said, all in Spanish, but I did hear “Americanas” in there somewhere. The cop relented, and let us go. We all sighed in relief, and thanked our driver. Who knows how he talked us out of it??

Then, when we were almost back “home”, his engine flooded. Literally, flooded. The tiny car was not pleased with pretending to be a boat, driving through feet of flowing water. I don’t know how, but the taxi driver coasted us back to the safety of our condo without further incident. We tipped him well.

The rest of the evening was spent fretting and worrying about the next day. We had booked the biggest tour of our trip – the Coba Maya Encounter – an all-day adventure tour that left at 6 the next morning. The rainstorm outside hadn’t let up even a little bit, and I knew that we couldn’t do that tour in the rain. Well, let me rephrase. I knew that the tour WOULD still go in the rain, and we couldn’t get our money back due to inclement weather, but I did NOT want to do it in the rain. The tour was going to involve kayaking, hiking, swimming in an underground cenote, rappelling, zip lining, and finally, exploring and climbing the ancient Coba mayan ruins. None of that would be enjoyable in the downpour we’d been experiencing. But it was too late to cancel.

So, hoping for sun with every ounce of our beings, we went to bed that night, unsure what the next day had in store for us.

Next up: the Coba Maya Encounter… did we find the sun?

Paz was this classic Mexican surf guy. Long sun-bleached hair, sunny disposition, the whole bit. You could tell just lived in the ocean 90% of his life. We were all sitting in the boat, and Mary was talking about how she’s blind without her glasses. She took her glasses off, and was trying to maneuver them into her snorkel mask. “I’m blind as a bat,” she said. “I can’t see a thing.” At just that moment, as if in a movie, we all look to the front of the boat and Paz, his backed turned to us, slowly stripped off his shirt, to reveal an, um… BUILT little body. We all looked back at Mary, who was wide eyed and gaping, smile on her face, staring at him. “Well, you can see THAT!” said her friend Becky. It couldn’t have played out any funnier. We were all a fan of Paz. Even the men had to appreciate him.

We were all given our snorkel masks and fins, and also a guide showing all the coral and fish we were about to see. The boat was driven out into the middle of the ocean, and then we dropped anchor.

One by one we tossed our legs over the side of the boat and slipped into the crystal clear water. The ocean was warm, and so the cold “shock to the system” I was expecting didn’t come as I went into the water. Steve was warned that because of his whiskers (I like him with a healthy two-day scruff) he might have some leakage into his mask. I had no problem, and the thing suctioned right onto my face. Steve’s leaked a bit, and he swallowed a few gallons of saltwater, but enjoyed himself all the same. Next snorkel outing, he’s shaving!

Paz then guided all of us around this huge coral reef. It was absolutely BREATHTAKING. I can’t even put into words how amazing it was. I had been snorkeling before, but I had never seen an alive flourishing reef like this!

We stayed in the water for about two hours, the whole time swimming from reef to reef. We saw so many different types of fish… too many to count. Several huge Groupers, Barracuda, Needlefish, and even a Spotted Eagle Ray! Paz was a great guide. Whenever he’d find a particularly cool fish, he’d grab whichever one of us was closest, and bring us to it. He definitely deserves credit for half the photos I got. Especially the Eagle Ray. It was hard to spot at first, despite it’s size, but once we saw it, it was awe inspiring! It was huge! A wingspan of around 5 feet, and a stinger at least 8 feet long. I got excited, and with my camera going, paddled my legs to get closer and chase it. Just then the ocean current caught me, and pushed me even closer, and I found myself only feet from it’s huge stinger. Immediately flashes of Steve Irwin’s untimely stingray death flashed into my head. Just then Paz grabbed my fin and pulled me away. Close one! (I’ll upload the movie later, which was totally worth the risk!)

After paddling around for hours and getting our snorkeling fill, we all piled back into the boat. On this little excursion we met some other Coral Mar guests… in particular this couple that isn’t a couple. They’re both retired, and are only friends, a man and a woman, and they’re just travel buddies. These two – they absolutely crack me up. The man, John, is this big jolly dude, and is a retired corrections officer. You’d never know it, he’s just this big goofball. And… he’s clumsy. He somehow managed to find a way to fall INTO the boat. Not out, IN. That gave us all a good laugh as we rode back to shore.

After rinsing off in a nearby outdoor shower, we all sat down to a buffet lunch that had been prepared for us. Classic Mexican fare, including the hottest salsa this side of Texas. As we all sat down, our friend John, once AGAIN found a way to fall. He was getting into or out of his chair (not sure which) and slipped on the wet tile and fell like a beach ball onto the floor. We all stopped and wanted to make sure he was okay, but his travel buddy, she just LAUGHED AND LAUGHED and got the rest of us laughing, too. Those two cracked us up the entire time.

After lunch and a stroll along the beach, we caught our ride back to the Coral Mar for a much needed rest.

I need to tell you about the Leather Ladies. There are three women – all in their 60s, easily – who have been sitting out by the pool THE ENTIRE TIME WE’VE BEEN HERE. If the sun is out? They are out. They have been overheard saying that if they go home without a tan the entire trip’s a bust. But let me tell you – they look like slabs of Bacon in Bikini’s. As we walked in from snorkeling, they tried to bribe us into going to Walmart to do their shopping for them. They couldn’t handle even a moment out of the sun! We passed. I’ve never seen three examples of skin cancer like those three. They are even darker than the local Mexicans. It’s a bit frightening. And their nickname – The Leather Ladies – seems to be universal. When we met another couple later that night, they referred to them by the same name! Hah!

Monday night was Yo Quiero Taco Loco Fiesta in the Palapa at the Coral Mar. It was all you can eat Fajitas, all you can drink drinks, and party and dancing like any true Mexican Fiesta demands. We went, expecting some yummy food, but we were pleasantly surprised by how much fun we all had!

After the dinner was mostly finished, they began all these silly Mexican party games, which turned out to be a blast. I’ll let the photos speak for themselves (once I upload them) but lets just say, Steve lost a hat game and took shots. I won a chicken/hen/nest game, won a gold medal, and took shots. Steve and I both won this couples/balloon game, and took shots… you can see the trend, no? We enjoyed that fiesta very much. And I learned I am very good at walking with a lime squeezed between my knees!

Stay tuned for day 4… a spontaneous trip to Playa Del Carmen!