Tonight's my last night--back in the old favorite Playa del Carmen. Not the greatest beach town, but certainly not the worst, and the array of the Italian tourists' bathing suit styles and depths of tans is quite impressive.
Tag: playa del carmen
Not dead. Just dead tired.
My pants smell like old plush bus seat--I know you know what I'm talking about.
In culo della balena….
For obvious reasons, this Italian phrase ('In the ass of the whale...we're hoping he doesn't shit') was running through my head two days ago when I jumped in the water with an eight-meter-long whale shark.
Not exactly live poultry, but good enough.
This, along with many other miniature store renderings, was in the "museum" at the glitzy Xcaret eco-park south of Playa del Carmen.
Of dogs and pigs
So that dude who asked me if I partied... As the conversation got going, I thought, Nooo, he can't possibly be so sleazy as to hit on me, I mean, that's just too sad and predictable.
Agua con Gas
One real benefit to traveling alone: I can double-dip my chips in the guacamole as much as I please. And I can order fizzy water without having to consult the table on bubbles vs. no bubbles. This trip is only making more set in my ways.
Viva Zapata!
The only trouble with traveling alone in a sunny climate is there's no one to put sunscreen on your back. I seem to have accidentally rendered the Pacific Ocean between my shoulder blades, with Japan and the California coastline marked in red.
Down Mexico Way
Anyway, this doesn't have anything to do with food, but I witnessed two weddings this week, and they couldn't have been more opposite.