TIA

Ghana. West Africa. "We welcome everyone. If you are a pedophile or a sexual deviant, you are not welcome." Women with babies on their backs and baskets on their heads. Red orange dirt roads, pot holes, tro tros so full people exit through windows. Groundnut stew. Two Ghana cedi. Goats napping in the middle of the road. Castles, ruins, slavery. Vibrant wooden canoes that take a village to launch. Villages on stilts. Boat rides through the ominous stillness of a jungle. Lagoons known as maternity wards. Life is strong in Africa. Monkeys at the Dutch-run sanctuary. "The only animal I ever took care of before this was a goldfish." Sweeping garbage into the gutter. Cooking over an open fire, even in the middle of a city. Ideas, Confidence, God Knows Best Bicycle Workshop. Machetes and naked men walking from where to where. Obruni, obruni, obruni! Black Stars and impromptu football games against kids in underwear and flannel shirts. Radio outbursts, rasta versions of Celine Dion, a strange fascination with country music. "If it's not on, it's not in." Coconuts for lunch. Kola nuts. Coffins for sale where you buy your bed. Don't shit about, but if you do happen to shit your pants just take them off and leave them on the side of the road. Inner city cattle drives. Half-finished buildings made of concrete blocks that now have corn growing out of the floors. Cooking lessons with Nana. Star beer. Dan the Pancake Man and his friend Frank the Juice Man. Two hundred year old rainforest trees. A canopy walk through Kakum National Forest, with monkeys jumping around the treetops below. Vic Baboo's Cafe with food so good you don't mind the giant rat passing through the dining room. A laundry debacle that lasted three days. The Unofficial Squirrel Rescue Organization. Universe serendipity and meeting the Las Vegas angels. Nigerian movies featuring demonic possession or domestic violence. Morning wake up calls courtesy of roosters. A feverish night spent in a rank prison cell at Al Hassan hotel. Green oranges, hard boiled eggs, onion crackers, Guiness Malta, Milo. "The future is our middle name." The 3am call to prayer during the 3am walk to the bus station. Navigating the female urinal for the first time. Mud huts, bucket showers, yams and red sauce. Lisa, Ann-Katrine, Oliver, Joke, Capito. Afternoons spent playing cards, drinking Obama water, cleaning wounds. Ozzie in his sweatshirt, no underwear, playing football. A walking safari that was one of the most incredible days of my life. Swimming elephants, baboons, warthogs, tse tse flies, antelope, water bucks, bush bucks, black cobras, walking elephants. Hiking through mint. Iamfinethaaaaankyou. Being serenaded with If You're Happy and You Know It in exchange for bouncy balls and silly bands. Bed bugs. Mack the Magic Man. Drinking beer on the roof, waiting for the Milky Way. Cape Coast, Beyin, Busua, Accra, Kumasi, Tamale, Larabanga, Mole.

Love Tours (part 3 of 3)

The finalish stop on the epic Love Tour of 2010 was northern Indiana for a family reunion. I'd literally been home about a week after Lake Charles when it was time to go again, but this time I had Shannon, Leiah, Renee, Ben and Sacagawea with me. Sacagawea is what we named my mom and dad's minivan last summer when my parents did a Lake-ation tour around Kentucky, and boy did she come through when it came to babies on the road.

We loaded up on road snacks (Doritos for the pregnant lady, beers for Aunt Shan the navigator, goldfish and fruit snacks for the babies) and left after Shan got off work on a Friday. The drive was pretty uneventful thanks to the in-van DVD player, but there were moments of toddler potty training emergencies. When they gotta go, they gotta go, and one time Renee, who'd been seduced by the promise of peeing in the grass at Aunt Tina's house, insisted she get to pee in the grass at the gas station. Luckily it backed up to a corn field, like most things in Indiana, so Auntie Am, Master of Peeing Outside in a Forward Squatting Fashion, helped Renee fulfill her dream of peeing in the grass.

There was also that Wizard of Ozian tornado that threatened us the last 11 miles of the trip, but Shan broke out a beer to cope with the fact that we may have to lay on top of babies in a ditch and everything was fine.

Once we got to Tina & Tony's house, things settled into awesome. I swear there were so many boys there it felt more like a fancy fraternity house than the residence of a middle-aged couple whose kids are grown. But then, really, that's just how Tina & Tony's house has always been -- the place to hang out, lose track of entire seasons, eat good food, and drink beer out of oversized cans.

Our cousins Nate and Tee showed the babies the kitty in the barn and gave the city kids a lesson in feeding sheep. I'm a proud member of the city kids. Then our cousin Andrea, with her due-soon belly, her husband Mitch, and her uber cuties Kennedy and Jaden, came over to hang out too. We crowded into the kitchen over one of Tina's famous veggie pizzas and talked way too much while Renee pushed one of Tina's chihuahuas around in a baby doll stroller.Saturday, after the babies had a nap, we hit the road to Hoover for a Scott family reunion at Uncle Carl & Aunt Bea's pig farm. We used to go swimming in the pond at the back of the farm when we were kids, and you'd have to drive through some of the grossest smells ever and a small creek to get there. They've moved the pigs somewhere downwind (thank god) and moved what used to be the bridge to my Grandma's house over the stream at Carl and Bea's. That's progress, 12 Mile-style.
Ben and Renee seemed to be having a nice time walking through the tall grass and over a bridge to a little island in the middle of the pond, which was drained for some reason. Leiah, Shan and I sat and watched them throw sticks and rocks into the empty hole, and Ben got his chance to pee outside, this time on a tree.

I am such a good influence.
The family reunion was good, although I greeted most of the people with, "Hi, I sort of remember playing with you. I'm Amber, of Greg." Weird for a family reunion, I know, but thanks to Facebook, next time I'll know who these people are. Although thanks to Facebook, they are probably dumbfounded at how they can be related to my Buddhistish Socialistish Unemployedistish ass.

At least the babies were adorable. Babies make everything better. Other people's babies that I am the auntie of, that is.

And I found my long lost foot twin. I always wondered who needed smacked for giving me these Flinstones... turns out it's all Scott.
Spending a couple hours at the pond helped Ben and Renee recalibrate their standards, so by the time we visited Aunt Becky, Uncle Vince and Cousin Isaac that evening, Ben had settled into running around shirtless and falling in the grass and Renee was just fine eating dirty strawberries out of the garden.
Our cousin Ryan came over to drink Miller High Life (it's better than low life, haha!) and introduce us to his fianceish Jessie.
We sat on the patio, cracking up at our hilarious Aunt Becky and trying to fight off the mosquitoes with citronella lamps. In the middle of one particularly painful laugh session, Uncle Vince came to the door from inside and said, "I just want you to know that the children are naked and I had nothing to do with it."

Then Ben in his Toy Story tennis shoes and Renee in nothing but her birthday suit came running out of the house having the time of their lives being crazy deliriously happy naked babies. Too bad they didn't pull that stunt at family reunion...

Becky's house had really felt the brunt of the storm from the day before (corn was blown sideways and trees were down everywhere), so we decided to go back to Tina's house since we weren't sure if they were going to get the power back on at Becky's. By the time we left, it was past 11 pm, we'd visited no less than 100 people and, holy smokes, there is only so much love to go around.

As we were pulling in to Tina's we got a text that Mitch, Andrea's husband, had collapsed at a wedding and was on the way to the hospital. What a panicked, awful night that was. Mitch spent a long time in a coma (he had something aneurysmish) but came out of it and is in therapy now. And Andrea just had her baby, Brogen Wayne, a couple days ago.
Finally, I am up to date! Ish.

Love Tours 2010 (part 2.33 of 3)

After Gio's wedding, I had about 48 hours at home before it was time to set out on the second major phase of Love Tours 2010... the part that involves Liz and Chris.

But, since I am a weenie who doesn't like to do anything by myself, I got my wife, Leigh, to take a half road trip with me to Memphis. I figured, hmmmm, I ride with Leigh to Memphis, and then I'll only have 8 hours by myself from Memphis to Lake Charles.

Leigh found a one-way ticket back to Kentucky for $76 and it was a Memorial Day weekend plan. We were going to Memphis to visit Leigh's cousin.
I met Tara and her ridiculously cool kids at one of Leigh's family get togethers and it sort of felt like we were kindred spirits even though we were only around each other for about an hour. But when I walked into Tara's house in Memphis and saw all the art and heard her big laugh, it felt like being at home.

So much so that within an hour of being there, I took a shower and followed it with a nap on her couch.

Two of Tara's ridiculously cool kids were off on ridiculously cool adventures, but the youngest, Sam, was at home, and he, like Leigh, has magical eyes that put people in a trance and get them to hang on his every word.

And now, my love letter about Sam. Because I love him.

Sam is so cool. He draws robots with extensions that are specialized for flipping hamburgers and cleaning ceiling fans. He wears tie-dyed t-shirts and worries that pink corduroy shorts might make him gay. He walks from room to room carrying a hot wheel with three oozie-like things coming out the top and sometimes transforms it into a finger blaster with the addition of a rubber band. He likes cinnamon rolls and is quick to demonstrate his milk chugging prowess. His philosophy about brushing his teeth is why bother, they just fall out anyway -- a thought pattern affirmed by the loss of a cavity-filled molar an hour after brushing his teeth. His afro won't quit and neither with the pale sage green that makes up his eyeballs. He thinks Megan Fox is hot and wants to be an architect for about three years when he grows up, and then he's going to do a career change and become an artist like his mom. He's quick to take the fall in The Case of the Pipe Found on the Fridge, and when his interrogator asks, "If it's yours, then what do you put in it?" he curls his lips into a shape much older than he is and says, with a rasp in his voice, "Vodka."

He likes high fives, and he is about the most awesome 9-year-old I've ever met.

When I wasn't wishing I had as much swagger as Sam, I was running around Memphis eating at delicious places and drinking entirely too much. Tara, being an artist, is a natural at finding places with character, and whether it was coffee in the morning, salads at noon or fish tacos at night, she not only didn't lead us astray, she led us to delicious.

Blah, blah, blah and then I gained 6 pounds.

We went to the Trolley Tour art walk thing, which also happened to be the Zombie Walk. One Zombie had actual worms embedded in his wound and I tried to get him to eat Leigh but he was already full I guess.
Then we went to Silky Sullivan's on Beale Street and watched frat boys act like douchbags. After we'd downed about two gallons of some weak Kool-aid cocktail, we left Silky's and realized we should have been partying in the street. Frat boys trying to bang half naked chicks make for angry people watching; provocative dancing black people partying in the street make for great people watching.
Tara got us a hotel downtown so we wouldn't have to drive. We headed there and Leigh introduced me to her 19-step face washing routine. There were so many bottles I couldn't keep it straight the entire weekend, but Leigh is such a good wife she'd just line them up in order for me. I don't think it worked, but since the regime costs hundreds of dollars, I stuck with it and tried to force a glow.

The next night, I managed to convince them to go to a sports bar with me to watch Rampage fight Rashad in the UFC fight. I mean, Memphis is Rampage's hometown, so I knew it was going to be a blast of a crowd. I made his photo my wallpaper on my iPhone and started howling when appropriate. Which was not too often.
Leigh and Tara said they had a good time. And for that, I'd like to thank Patron Tequila. I had a great time, and for that, I'd not like to thank Rampage who got knocked out and made me really bummed.

I think our last 24 hours in Memphis were my favorite, so much so that I didn't want to leave. We went to a tequila bar and sampled about 10 types of tequila. Then we ate really good queso and fish tacos and there I go talking about food again. I am an addict.

While we were sitting on the patio, a lively discussion broke up between these guys and girls next to us, and it got so crazy we just couldn't ignore it anymore. So we butted in and Leigh secretly told the girls to never admit to anything and I asked one of the boys if he was religious because he was wearing a rosary and he informed me that that's just the fashion. Also the fashion is to make sure your hat matches your shoes. Just FYI.
We were having so much fun we relocated to another place that was staying open, and Tara's friend Evan helped us fine tune our gaydar.

The next morning we got up, went to eat yet another delicious lunch, browsed through some adorable shops, and then settled in, made dinner, drank wine and watched a movie.

About a million of my favorite things happened in the 4 days I was in Memphis, and I think I may have found another good wife.

No, I am not a lesbian... and even Evan agrees. I just think wives are awesome and good ones are hard to come by.

Meningitolioatitis Tetanellow Fever

Mack and I decided to go to Ghana this summer. It was a decision that went sort of like this:

Me: "Maybe we should go to Ghana."
Him: "Sure. They have judo there."
Me: "Let's go get a book about it at the library."

So we got the book, arranged for a volunteer assignment, bought plane tickets for as much as a small country in Africa costs, and then found out we needed yellow fever vaccines. We have insurance through school for the next few weeks, and we plan to capitalize on that BIG TIME since they recently refused to cover my birth control. I'll show you Aetna.

Our doctor coincidentally had grown up in Africa (her parents, who were also doctors, were missionaries), and all the vaccines that we had written off she scared us into getting.

It's a wonder how "I've had two friends die of ___" will change your mind about vaccines.

Mack ended up getting out of there with three shots, but I had to get five. FIVE.

Buuuutttt, before I got my shots, I heard Mack in the next room screaming out in pain and I flashed back to when I was a toddler and had to get an allergy test that involved repeated shots and my blood pressure went up to 135/84 (normally mine is 100/60) and I had to start pacing so I would not explode from anxiety.

By the time the nurse came in with my tray, I'd learned that Mack was screaming out in pain about something else because he is a weinie, but my nerves were shot and dread was pulsing through my veins. And there I sat, staring at a tray of syringes with sharp needles, really wondering if meningitis was all that bad.

I finally let go of my very first world problem by thinking of all the Africans I'd be meeting who'd probably really enjoy a free vaccine that would keep them from getting Hepatitis A. And we got on with what the English very appropriately call jabs.

In addition to meningitis and Hepatitis A, I got shots for polio, T-dap (which is tetanus and some other things you get when you're a baby) and yellow fever.

And now I have a little bit of every disease. Forgive me if I don't move for the next day or so. I'll be sleeping.

El Capital

Mack got to have Spring Break last week, and since the winter has made us Hermits (yes, with a capital H), we decided to get out of town for a few days. He made a No South Rule, so Asheville, Atlanta, Knoxville and most other drivable places that direction were out, and I refused to go anywhere colder, so anything North was out.

Finally we settled on Washington, DC... lots of free stuff to do, pretty walkable city, plus the Obamas and my favorite Lincoln Memorial.
I've really liked visiting DC in the past. I went there once when I was 10... for a day-long field trip with my class... and again when I was 14... with the band for Clinton's inaugural parade. But I think something has happened in the last 20 years -- maybe cynicism has crept in or perhaps I've officially watched too much news or it could be a post-9/11 capital or some California conditioning.

During this visit, I kept feeling disgusted at all the middle aged white guys in suits with their ties sporting Windsor knots. It felt like everyone there had an agenda, a trust fund and a long Burberry coat. It was like everyone was a descendant of politics.

There's also an overwhelming sense that you're being watched. Which automatically makes you feel like a suspect. I get that we need security and monitoring, especially considering a dude pulled out a gun at the Pentagon while we were there and shot two cops before they killed him, but when that sense of big brother is so strong you feel like you'll get in trouble if you step off the sidewalk and Walk Through the Grass!! something is out of balance.

Even the security guy at Baja Fresh was undercover!

[Sort of Related Tangent: Since we got into town kind of late, the only place really open near the White House was Baja Fresh, so we went in to grab a taco. Some homeless guy, the only one we saw while in DC, was sleeping at one of the tables -- and by sleeping I mean passed out. We had just sat down to enjoy our roasted tomato salsa when suddenly Sleeping Beauty woke up, did that throat grumbly thing that precedes a loogey, turned his head our way, and let mucus fly. I almost died. I thought he'd spit on Mack and had a flash forward of hoochie mamas/hutcimata/something judo being thrown like crazy, but luckily, undercover security a few tables away intervened and told the man to leave. I like a good nut job, but I Do Not do snot.]

Mack, who has watched a whole lot more news than me, was convinced that the Washington Monument was a free mason lookout tower that secretly covered an escape rocket housing aliens who are directing activities on earth. Normally I'd think that was just imagination at work, but since everyone in DC is a robot, I'm not so sure.
To be fair, some of my evaluation of the DC may have been influenced by our visit to the International Spy Museum, which taught you to trust no one. It also taught me about microdots and picking locks and that the key to being a good spy is having lots of hollowed out things... like sticks, shoe heels, lipsticks, cigarettes and cigarette boxes.

We also learned a lot at the Smithsonian Natural History Museum -- namely that, and this is not directed to people whose babies I like but all the other people in the world, PEOPLE NEED TO STOP HAVING BABIES. It would have been nice to look at the Insect Zoo if not for the 1 to 6 ratio of adults to kids. And you know kids are like ants but without the discipline. And since when do strollers have to be the size of Cadillacs? It's really a matter of space, and all these babies with all their crap are taking up way too much space. Babies that I know can stay, but no more new babies and babies I don't know need to be anti-consumers. That means a $15 umbrella stroller, one sippy cup and one toy. Maybe some diapers too, but that is it.

Normally when I go places I enjoy myself even if all I do is walk around and take photos, but for whatever reason, DC was just not inspiring me. In fact, the only inspiration I could muster came from Sarah and her collection of photos of herself next to things. May I present Amber in Photos Next to Things:
Overall, my favorite place was probably Chinatown. We found an awesome Thai restaurant that had some amazing curry. Our lunch at the Smithsonian was $40 (admission was free though), but our dinner at this Thai place, with beers and an appetizer, was only $35. I also loved the archway that welcomed you to Chinatown and being able to watch the guys cook duck in the window.
Getting out of town was fun, and it would have been a lot more fun if we'd been able to get over to Baltimore to see Sarah, but I think I'm good on DC for another 20 years.

What I Did Today, A Day in the Middle of December

Drank a cantaloupe juice at my favorite beach restaurant, Elvira's Cha Cha Chicken... apparently its infinite deliciousness causes strokes.

Ate jerk veggie enchiladas, black beans and rice and fried plantains on the patio.

Watched Mack climb the rope on Santa Monica Beach.*
Dangled from the rings and remembered how wimpy my hands are.

* Mack climbed the entire rope twice so that I could get a picture of him at the top... proof he actually can climb it all the way.

It just doesn't seem fair not to show it. Especially since he almost shredded the top of his foot coming down the second time.

Three Weeks Ago Today...

Transformation

I realized while we were on the plane to New York City for our No Nonsense Between Friends trip that Heather and I started our friendship on a plane. She had a bag of O'Boises potato chips on a flight back to Louisville after our 5th grade day trip to Washington, D.C., and she offered them to me not knowing that I had/have a chip addiction. As I looked at her this time, 20+ years later, I felt a whole new gratitude for her... and it had little to do with the mommy snacks I knew she had in her bag.
Our trip to NYC was incredible. From the moment we walked into our hotel room and discovered a gift basket that put the Easter Bunny to serious shame, the trip just got better and better.

We met with a stylist, were allowed to pick something from his suggestions rack, and then went to eat some of the best pasta I've ever eaten. Then we slept above Times Square in a swanky hotel room and woke up to a view of the Hudson River and a day filled with shopping, with trying on beautiful things without the slightest regard for the attached price tags. We dropped hundreds of dollars without a thought and came to adore the women who fit you for bras at Macy's. Then it was off to another extraordinary dinner, this time sushi that literally melted in your mouth, followed by Mamma Mia on Broadway. Sunday was just more of the same upward trajectory. We donned our new threads, headed to a salon and were treated to a facial and a hair experience unlike any either of us has ever had.
Did you know that lurking under this mass of confused waves and supernatural frizz there is supermodel hair? It was too beautiful to be mine, but there it was attached to my head.
We had our makeup done to complete our new looks, and I can't really describe how this whole makeover experience affected me. I haven't felt this good about myself ever. And I haven't seen Heather treating herself so well our entire lives.

I think that's what's most precious about this whole experience. Seeing someone I love dearly reconnect with who she is, beyond who she is to other people, was the best gift of all. I'm so grateful I was able to play some small part in getting her to that place and that I got to see it happen.

Our trip just kept getting better and better and better, and when it finally hit me how wonderfully lucky I am to have won this, how incomprehensibly blessed I am to have such an astounding friendship with someone who is so extraordinary, how delicious my life is, well, when all those realizations finally settled on me during the stillness of a carriage ride through Central Park, I cried. And I have never in my life been more grateful to have Heather at my side than I was in that moment.

Summer Times

Since summer is winding down and my life hiatus of the last 6 months is coming to an end, well, it's making me need a vacation.

Or at least a look back at one of the best yet.

Create your own video slideshow at animoto.com.

Beach Baby

My nephew Ben is very particular when it comes to the beach. Like for instance, he only wants to be there when he is unaware that he is there.

In Jamaica, Laila had to keep him distracted with building sandcastles and we only got him onto the sand with shoes on. He was not interested in the water one bit.

It looks like he may just be growing out of that beach-hating phase of his life because the other day, while we were splashing around in the surf, the words "This is so much fun" flew from his lips with the same excitement he uses to say "I wanna watch Cars." And then we all collapsed in disbelief.

Gigi and Dude Build up Ben's Courage


Mommy Helps Ben out of His Comfort Zone


Auntie Am Just Keeps Him from Drowning

Criss Cross Country

Three years ago, we loaded up the truck and we moved to Beverly... Well, the West Side of Los Angeles anyway.
Last week, we loaded up the truck and headed back to be with ya'll hillbillies again.In case you ever wanted to know what driving 2,169 miles non-stop across the country with a freak husband who refuses to stop even though you're both hallucinating shadow people running across the road looks like, I give you this little film, made possible by iPhone and boredom and sleeplessness. Sorry in advance for the bugs (and to the bugs) on the windshield.

* Song is "I feel it all" by Feist.

Cancun: It's like America and Mexico had a baby.

After spending 6 days in Cuba, being to Cancun was like being half asleep. I didn't realize how exhausted we were from being a part of the buzz that is Havana until we were in a place that's basically peace and quiet. Which is to say, a much needed vacation at the end of our vacation.

The first thing we did, after eating chilaquiles and drinking beer, was take a 4-hour nap. Then we went to Wal-mart and bought sunscreen and bottled water and snacks. You can't quite understand the joy of seeing Lays potato chips after a week of pondering chicken flavored Cornitos.

Our hotel was in the city part of Cancun as opposed to the beachy, resort part, and I am so glad we stayed in the city. We got to see actual Mexican people and see actual Mexican schools. And we got to give our pesos to actual Mexican businesses. That being said, we couldn't resist being tempted into the Carribean blue water, so we took a ferry to Isla Mujeres to go snorkeling one day.

We were planning to go to a place touted as a "national park" called Garrafon, but that turned out to be a $59 per person amusement park with water at its center. So we walked up the street a bit, stopped in at a cafe for lunch, and discovered a hotel called Garrafon de Castilla where you could pay $5 for the day to snorkel, lounge on the beach and enjoy enormous pina coladas. The actual hotel reminded me of a Corona bottle, and the reef was everything we were looking for.
Having done the beach thing, we decided we should explore some of Mexico's Mayan ruins. There are several close to Cancun, but we settled on Tulum for two reasons: it was the closest one and it was right on the bluff looking over the ocean. We took a bus for about 60 pesos each ($5), and three hours later we were dropped off at a street that reeked of tourist trap. We followed the other white people to a little marketplace and quickly noticed some brightly cloaked men swinging around a pole over our heads. Yes, men swinging around a pole over our heads.
Apparently these are Totonac Indian flyers, aka the original pole dancers, and they preserve an ancient form of worship by putting on a show for tourists and then passing around a hat. They are so in touch with their divinity that they actually say to you, "Is that all? It is for all of us and we are not on salary." (In our defense, we only saw the landing, so we didn't feel we owed a full show's worth of money.)

The ruins were incredible, as ruins tend to be. I love me some ruins. It's so interesting to look at them and see how people used to live, what they were afraid of, how they tried to impress one another. I'm always left thinking we really haven't come that far, especially with regard to our feats of human greatness. I mean, when was the last time anyone put in the time and effort required to build a city out of stone.
While at Tulum I had one of those "Is this really my life?" moments. We walked down the steps along the bluff and were able to swim out into the ocean and look up at the ruins. The water cooled us off just the right amount, and everything was so incredibly beautiful I could hardly believe I was in the center of it. Also, I was able to change into and out of my bathing suit without a towel without flashing any of my private parts, which is fairly mindblowing.
We couldn't take a bus back to Cancun because they'd stopped running, but luckily that gave us the opportunity to be introduced to Colectivos. Colectivos are like church van taxis that cost 35 pesos per person ($3), and they pick people up and drop them off along the side of the road. You pay your money, take one of the 12-14 seats, sit back in the cool air conditioning, and watch a movie starring Bruce Willis. I wish we had Colectivos in the U.S. because I would so take those to Riverbend for concerts or Louisville to see my mom and dad. The Colectivo that picked us up in Tulum ended its route in Playa del Carmen, so before we hopped on another Colectivo to Cancun, we walked around the streets of PdC and ate dinner on the sidewalk of a cute little restaurant right by the beach.

After two days in Cancun, our wanderlust was pretty well satiated (and the swine flu masks were making more frequent appearances), so we hung out around the hotel and checked email. We found out Mack would be going to school at UK for sure, which meant there was a whole new adventure waiting for us when we got home. I bought a return ticket to LA instead of Louisville, and then we decided to catch a real live bull fight.

I regretted not seeing a bull fight in Spain when we traveled there, and even though we're vegetarians, I decided we should see one in Mexico. We took a taxi to the Plaza del Toros, but apparently we were a couple weeks too late. The season had already ended. A guy who we assumed helped train the matadors gave us a little behind the scenes tour, which was probably more fun than the bull fight would have been anyway. When he brought out the training bull, I think I screamed and I know I started to run away.
Cancun was a blast, and I'm glad we got this little bonus vacation. Even if it did mean I'd spend a day of traveling in a face mask and still come down with a fever and respiratory sickness while Mack stayed healthy as a horse.