Puerta Vallarta, Mexico. It was one of our first travel trips with Roger and Elaine. I am totally afraid of heights and I knew that everyone would want to go para-sailing, which was perfectly fine with me....I just didn’t want THEM bugging ME about ME going as well! So I set the rules right up front....I didn’t want my vacation spoiled by them demanding that I needed to do what they wanted me to do in order for them to have fun. We were on the beach and waiting for our turn. A tour bus filled with older tourists had landed just before us. A few of them were sailing, the rest shopping or eating nearby. Elaine and I decided to head to the little cafe/shop on the beach and get something cold to drink. But on the way there, we saw a group of "olders" running back to the beach. When someone asked them what the rush was, someone blurted out "Ethel is going to para-sail! We can’t believe it. Ethel has never done a fun thing in her life!"
Well, that hit me hard. I realized that if Ethel, who had never done a fun thing in her life could para-sail, I certainly could as well. Thank you, Ethel, whoever you are.
"Ethel" became an honorary member of our Lake Powell experience- whenever we didn't want to do something like go off the slide or run the jet-ski barrel course or jump in the freezing water, we would remind ourselves of Ethel. She's a champ!
Tom or Penny shared the trip we took to years ago.
Here's from my journal entry:
My favorite trip with them was to Cancun. It was a riot. First of all, we all made a list of the things each of us "had" to do. On Penny’s and my list was traveling to Isla Mujere’s...the island of women....on a ferry because we heard they had best shopping. On the boy’s list was attending the bull fights in Cancun. Well, we took the ferry , and when we got there, we looked at the return trips for the ferry that would make the bull fights and found out that the only one went back in about 45 minutes! We were so bummed. But the guys reassured us that they would "hire" a boat to take us back. We had a great time exploring and shopping. While Penny and I shopped, David and Tom took off to find our boat rental. When we got to the boat dock, we saw all these luxury boats tied to the dock. We were excited. We looked for our boat called "The Kingfish."
Okay, imagine the most beat-up boat, mismatched, nailed-together wonder you’ve ever seen. It wasn’t very big. It didn’t look trustworthy or sea worthy. Remember, we are on a island so far from Cancun that you can’t see it off into the distance. But the guys reassured us that the owner didn’t want to lose his boat and there was an experienced "captain" to guide it. The experienced captain turned out to be a boy...a little boy looking all of maybe ten-years old! And he didn’t speak any English. We couldn’t believe it. But the men were full of faith...and besides, it was cheap!
So, off we went...with our lives in the hands of a ten-year old and a rickety motor boat that had seen better days. I remember I was wearing this cute white t-shirt and a cotton-knit blue and white striped skirt. We hadn’t been out but a minute when the first wave hit. Up and over all of us in the boat. My sunglasses promptly slid off my drenched head. My camera swooshed from one end of the boat to the other in water. Penny and I held on for dear life! We got into a rhythm...breath, crash, drench. Breath, crash, drench. It was terrifying. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, we saw the pier of Cancun. We again saw all the luxury boats and ferry at the end of the pier. But our "captain" wasn’t heading for the dock at the end of the pier. No, it seemed he didn’t have a license to park there....instead, he pulled up to the rock cliffs that brace the pier. My totally soaked knit skirt now weighed 50 pounds and since it had an elastic waist, kept slipping down. Here we are, looking like we had just been through a typhoon, and now we get to climb up a 40-foot embankment of giant, sharp boulders! And in a hurry because the bull fights were almost ready to start! It was the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen. It was the most ridiculous thing we’ve ever done. It was a memory worth keeping.
I can’t remember if we had time to change for the bullfight or headed straight there. I remember having my nose bent out of shape because a "bull-fight" seemed like the most barbaric thing I could imagine. And after we bought our tickets, they wouldn’t let us go in because all the seats were filled (and there were hundreds waiting to go in.) The guards at the door told us not to worry...that after the first bull, half of the people would leave. They were right. That should have been a warning to us. We "heard" the slaughter of the bull, hundreds of people left sick and grossed out and we trampled in like the stupid tourists that we were. I forgot to mention that we were there during spring break. College spring break. That’s when I realized I could write a hit song called "Mama’s..Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be College Students...." This was in the 80's and it was so bad then, I can’t even imagine what it is like today. I asked David how our kids (little at the time) could possibly survive someday in that environment. He answered, "They couldn't. They just shouldn't be here." The bull fight was ridiculous. The bull was drugged, and stabbed with spears and it was totally horrible. Even all the drunken college students could see how unjust it was. Pretty soon they all got involved. "Gimme a B....B! Gimme a U! U! Gimme me an L! L! Gimme me another L!"
One bull was enough for us as well. I didn’t even make it to the end.
Here's from my journal entry:
My favorite trip with them was to Cancun. It was a riot. First of all, we all made a list of the things each of us "had" to do. On Penny’s and my list was traveling to Isla Mujere’s...the island of women....on a ferry because we heard they had best shopping. On the boy’s list was attending the bull fights in Cancun. Well, we took the ferry , and when we got there, we looked at the return trips for the ferry that would make the bull fights and found out that the only one went back in about 45 minutes! We were so bummed. But the guys reassured us that they would "hire" a boat to take us back. We had a great time exploring and shopping. While Penny and I shopped, David and Tom took off to find our boat rental. When we got to the boat dock, we saw all these luxury boats tied to the dock. We were excited. We looked for our boat called "The Kingfish."
Okay, imagine the most beat-up boat, mismatched, nailed-together wonder you’ve ever seen. It wasn’t very big. It didn’t look trustworthy or sea worthy. Remember, we are on a island so far from Cancun that you can’t see it off into the distance. But the guys reassured us that the owner didn’t want to lose his boat and there was an experienced "captain" to guide it. The experienced captain turned out to be a boy...a little boy looking all of maybe ten-years old! And he didn’t speak any English. We couldn’t believe it. But the men were full of faith...and besides, it was cheap!
So, off we went...with our lives in the hands of a ten-year old and a rickety motor boat that had seen better days. I remember I was wearing this cute white t-shirt and a cotton-knit blue and white striped skirt. We hadn’t been out but a minute when the first wave hit. Up and over all of us in the boat. My sunglasses promptly slid off my drenched head. My camera swooshed from one end of the boat to the other in water. Penny and I held on for dear life! We got into a rhythm...breath, crash, drench. Breath, crash, drench. It was terrifying. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, we saw the pier of Cancun. We again saw all the luxury boats and ferry at the end of the pier. But our "captain" wasn’t heading for the dock at the end of the pier. No, it seemed he didn’t have a license to park there....instead, he pulled up to the rock cliffs that brace the pier. My totally soaked knit skirt now weighed 50 pounds and since it had an elastic waist, kept slipping down. Here we are, looking like we had just been through a typhoon, and now we get to climb up a 40-foot embankment of giant, sharp boulders! And in a hurry because the bull fights were almost ready to start! It was the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen. It was the most ridiculous thing we’ve ever done. It was a memory worth keeping.
I can’t remember if we had time to change for the bullfight or headed straight there. I remember having my nose bent out of shape because a "bull-fight" seemed like the most barbaric thing I could imagine. And after we bought our tickets, they wouldn’t let us go in because all the seats were filled (and there were hundreds waiting to go in.) The guards at the door told us not to worry...that after the first bull, half of the people would leave. They were right. That should have been a warning to us. We "heard" the slaughter of the bull, hundreds of people left sick and grossed out and we trampled in like the stupid tourists that we were. I forgot to mention that we were there during spring break. College spring break. That’s when I realized I could write a hit song called "Mama’s..Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be College Students...." This was in the 80's and it was so bad then, I can’t even imagine what it is like today. I asked David how our kids (little at the time) could possibly survive someday in that environment. He answered, "They couldn't. They just shouldn't be here." The bull fight was ridiculous. The bull was drugged, and stabbed with spears and it was totally horrible. Even all the drunken college students could see how unjust it was. Pretty soon they all got involved. "Gimme a B....B! Gimme a U! U! Gimme me an L! L! Gimme me another L!"
One bull was enough for us as well. I didn’t even make it to the end.
One of the crazy things about being friends for so long and doing so many things together, the same stories get shared over and over. Being friends means you laugh in all the right places and remind each other of bloopers and failings. How lucky we are to have wonderful friends- to share our lives...over and over again.
