THE Cruise Day 3 and 4: We Go Somewhere

The Cruise Day 3 No Stops

You wake up on the boat. You eat. You float. Not a lot more then that happens. You notice a couple of things, or at least a copuple of things get confirmed.
1. The food is not that good
2. The food is plentiful
3. There are a shitload of people on this boat
4. Since we are not going into port anywhere they all think that they will swim and sun today.
5. Drinks are expensive
6. It kicks ass to have a room with a balcony to hide/drink on.
7. There are several pools. None of them really for swimming.
8. There are several hot tubs but none of them are that hot.

The people who are on the cruise tend to be from all over. I know it costs a lot of money to cruise but you would never know it from the people. They tend as a group to be unattractive, appear unhappy and appear pushy. They are in a word...me. I sleep a lot. I have a few Red Stripes. We go to dinner in the upscale (upcharge-CHA CHING) restaurant called Chops. The food is pretty good there. Better then the wedding fair in the main dining room. Not Smith & Wollensky's but not too far off. We go sit in the hot tub at night. Tomorrow Mayan Ruins. We go to bed.

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Day 4: Costa Maya

Costa Maya is a made up town. Evidently the cruise lines all conspired to have a deep water port and town here because they needed one. It fir. Hurricane Dean blew through here in 2007 and leveled everything so they built a new little Branson outlet Mall complete with Senor Frogs and a Hard Rock Cafe and two other chain places and a load of jewelry stores, souvenir stands and t-shirts. Awesome. They also allow you to take a 2 dollar cab ride to town Muhahual or something. The town is like every port town we later find out with crappy shops and with people hustling you for your attentions and your dollars every step (literally every step) of the way.

We split up and Pat and I go and wait for a charter we have scheduled to go see Mayan ruins. While waiting, Pat pukes. We never determine why. We get on a bus and ride to town and hook up with a nuclear family of three from somewhere in Georgia. We all get in a mini van. The Georgia people are fat and appear (sound) stupid. The man forgot his "click camers" (I do not know what that is) on the bus so we drive back to the port.. We get the camera. The mini van we are in breaks down (equipment breakdowns seem to be THE common thread in the Caribbean). We drive 45 miles north through mango swamps and through a military check point complete with small child in fatigues carrying a machine gun. On the way our guide suggests we buy soem fresh pinapple from aroadside stand and put come chile peper on it. The fat family declines as does Pat but I do. It is VERY good.We go to ruins. The fat family keeps asking questions and "the Mayan calendar and things they heard on the discovery channel about the world ending in 2012. Based on their questions (including the fat kids questions about human sacrifice) I find myself praying it would end sooner. He shows us a town where the Mayans lived 1200 years ago and points out a face carved in the rock. The fat kid insistes that he see an entire tableaux that evidently has been missed by the thousands of people and archeoligists who have viewed it before. We go to climb one of the two large pyramids. The fat kid comes along with us while his parents sit and sweat. It is muddy. The Mayans disappeared about 1200 years ago. The fat man thinks it was aliens. I think that I would like for aliens to make me disappear. All during this time pat takes about 200 pictures of nothing. We drive back to port.

Where we find our four compatriots drinking fruity drinks out of long, plastic tuble like cups with name tags on from Senor Frogs which say things like "easy "and "Horny". I asses the situation and take a cab inbto town. Manalana is a fishing village and I saw several huge tubs on wheels filled with fresh snapper. I have cab driver take me to a bar with a dirt floor and I go in saying "cook me very fresh snapper". They nod. I insist on seeing it. They bring me out a fish that is perfect, [ink, a little sea weed in the gills and stillfresh with rigor mortis from being caught. They gut it on the bar. I am the only person in the bar. I say how much and they say 19 dollars. I have 26 dollars and it is a 3 dollar cab ride back to the boat. i ask them to throw in a beer. They agree. I sit there and watch this extended family go out to the beach and hustle people on the street but I sit in the shade sipping my Dos Equis. I explained that I just wanted the fish cooked who and as they kept offering me options and I kept declining they got happier and happier with me. They brought me another beer "no harga". Eventua;ly they brought me a beautiful (seriously beautiful fish with skin head and tail all in tact, staring up at me and screaming "EAT ME!" I did. It was awesome. I asked for a little chile and they brought me a green sauce I watched them mix up and I wanted it for side two of the fish. being smarter then I used to be I dabbed a little on a small piece of the fish and ate it... and almost passed out. Way too hot. Still...i used just a litte, folded it up in some soft corn tortillas with rice and it was awesome. It made my day. Fresh fish in a fishing village cooked on a very hot fire...to die for. I will never go to a fishing village again and not try to replicate this experience.

I went back to the boat, ate, had shots, fell asleep.