There and Back Again

I have to go on vacation to remember to write a blog entry - probably because that’s when I’m inspired to write something. Writing after a long day at work just doesn’t do it nowadays. Where’s the fun in journaling about layoffs and salary surveys anyway? It’s a depressing topic to even think about.

As I write this, the Riviera Maya is beckoning me, wanting me to return to its warm waters while the sun bathe me in its harsh but soothing embrace. I can see a couple of kids playing football in the sand, perhaps prepping for the 2010 World Cup opener in a few days. All along the seaside, families and “singles” have spread their beach blankets and soaking up the salty wind, coarse white sand and crystal blue water. Resort guests are lounging on their palapas or – like me – swaying in their hammocks, watching the locals reclaim their beach, even for a short while, and non-locals trying to turn brown without a tanning salon. The view is distracted once in awhile by a passing go-cart like motorbike – the shore’s patrol – and by a really noisy biplane advertising free margarita nights at the Blue Parrott. Other than that, it’s a scene from a dream or from those lovely Corona Beer commercials.

I’m on an elevated cabana and from my point of view, the sea meets the sky and the world is beautiful once again. No troubles worry me here. It seems as if I’m always swaying or floating – more like floating. The wind can take me any direction it wants and I will willingly go. My heart is light as a feather, ready to take flight and never return.

The wind is blowing. Gabriel, the resort bell-hop/jack-of-all-trades, waves at me on his way to making a delivery of what looks like a bottle of wine and basket of goodies to one of the cabanas next door. In a few hours, my sister and I will go to dinner, sit at our usual spot, and be greeted by our usual server – a shy but very nice gentleman with a three-letter name, none of which are vowels. He will ask us our room number though he already knows and brings us bottella de agua, muy frio, no ice. After dinner, we will retire in the comforts of our tiny but comfortable room with a ceiling fan that spins like a maniac. The soft music from Mi’s laptop and the sound of the ocean ebbing into the darkness will lull us to sleep, as it always does. Tomorrow will be yet another gloriously lazy day, where anything – or nothing – can happen.

I’m on day three of my seven-day sojourn in paradise. The one good thing about slaving your life away with work is that you can, every now and then, buy yourself a little of piece of heaven on earth, offered at discounted price from Travelocity, if you just know how to look. (Wink, wink!) We all need a little rest and relaxation, if anything to find our inner peace and purpose in life once again. After all, all work and no play makes you dull. So you work when you work, so you can play when you play.

Until next time! From Paradise, I’m signing off.