the day after our wedding, we didn’t go to bed until 1am. we woke up at 4 to catch our flight to Mexico. We spent two hours in line at Logan, three hours drinking Pacifico and smoking cigarettes in Mexico City, then took a prop plane for 60 stomach-twisting minutes to Zihuatanejo. And we were rewarded with this:
a balcony, a hammock, and a view that begged for Corona. From the balcony, looking to our left, there was the hotel pool:
and to our right, the city of Zihuatanejo, especially lovely at sunset:
Every morning, our maids made up our bed with different artistic creations, and every night we got small candies with the turndown service.
The creations were lovely, but the candies could be very difficult to eat.
We spent most of the trip eating at gorgeous open-air restaurants where you could smoke your lungs out, if you wished, and where local musicians would sell you a song for a dollar. Or five. Depending.
We also got some sun, as evidinced by my bad tan line:
We went to sleep every night with the sliding door open, so we could hear the waves crashing against the shore, we woke up every morning to the sound of birds that sounded just like fire alarms. There are more stories to come, but I feel like I blew my wad with the whole tampon thing, so I’ll save the rest for later. Let me leave you with this image, because work is hectic and, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, posting is sparse at best. Katsu and I went out strolling one night to try and find this boat that was rumored to have an open-bar dance party cruise from 10pm until 2am. Although we never did find the ship, we found this blind dude with an alligator.
I mean, shit, if that isn’t a good vacation, I don’t know what is.
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