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Thursday morning was gorgeous. The sun was shining and I wasn’t hung over at all. It’s all about living at altitude. It provides great training for drinking all day in Mexico. When you’re from Colorado and you are hung over in Mexico, you know you drank waaaaay too much.
I was super sore in my shoulders. Not sure why.
We headed off to Bella Vista for breakfast. They were handing out Mimosa’s at the same table that had been set up the night before for the Bellini’s right outside of Bella Vista. Why, yes, thank you, I will have one.
Let the count begin!
Zung’s omelette was made by the intense chef dude from the night before. His chef coat had “Executive Sous Chef” embroidered on it. Zung said he was just as meticulous about making his omelette as he had been about plating food the night before.He pronounced it the best omelette ever.
Olivia was there. When does this woman sleep? And she is unfailingly cheerful.
At home I usually have a smoothie for breakfast. It’s very healthy. It has protein powder, green food, frozen acai, fruit juice and frozen fruit. I feel like I knock of my five fruits and veggies with that one smoothie. On vacation, there is a certain decadence to eating bacon every morning with a croissant and maybe an egg. And my daily serving of Mimosa. I also can’t handle caffeine and drink decaf tea at home. On vacation, I throw caution to the wind and consume vast qualities of caffeine via black tea and coke (in my rum and cokes). I pay for it later, but I do enjoy it while I’m there.
We established our vacation routine by heading off to the lobby to get internet service via Wifi on my iPad. (Note to Grand: do what you need to do to reestablish Wifi to Bella Vista and vicinity. Having it in the rooms would be even better).
I needed to update my “Live from” posts, play Words With Friends, and communicate with my Playa amigo, Steve (aka snappysammy). We were meeting Friday for lunch.
I skipped a second Mimosa this morning. (I must have been on some kind of health kick for half and hour or so).
My internet duties taken care of, we head back to the room.
It is a gorgeous, sunny day. A war is going on in my mind. One voice is saying I should go do yoga. Another voice is saying, just knock off half an hour of cardio. Then there is the voice that says, “Hello! You are on vacation! Remember, you don’t exercise on vacation. Get your butt out to the beach and flag down a waiter and order a drink.”
And then, “Lounge chair is waiting.”
What could I say. Between that and this,
what could I say? What could I do? It is a power that is greater than I.
I put on my bathing suit and joined my beloved Lounge Chair.
I love Mexico. But I’m honest about the draw. It’s not to experience the rich culture and amazing history or delicious cuisine. I’m a beach slut. I want to lay on the beach with a comfortable lounge chair and a very good beach waiter and read a book that is not too deep and look at the ocean, feel the ocean breeze and listen to my favorite music, the waves crashing on the shore.
That is what I did.
Zung has greater vacation aspirations than I and goes for a short run.
Beach service is underwhelming. We see the beach waiter, hanging out. With everyone else who works at the Grand being on the top of their game, I really don’t know how this guy is still here. Maybe because people like me don’t complain.
It’s not enough of an issue for me to complain. Complaining would take an effort. The beach is too intoxicating and laying on my Lounge Chair takes no effort at all.
There’s nothing like it.