Monday, May 30th

It is recommended you be at DFW two hours before your flight leaves for an international flight. That stinks, but the airport is courteous to make the wait not too boring. This is accomplished with lines longer than Six Flags and accentuated with the occasional adrenaline rush from realizing you might be in the wrong line. Our line is engorged with garishly dressed Okies. Wow. Their tribal leader has on the token maroon shirt, with blue and yellow Hawaiian floral shorts. Boomer sooner! We didn’t get in the wrong line but we did make a grave error in letting them herd us to the ticket counter as two family units. Result: Separate seats rows and rows apart! Stress! Stress! Where is that relaxed mental attitude? Actually, it came close enough to immediately.

The kids keep telling Tina she’s making a ferret face. I don’t quite see it, I think they’re being mean.


Does it look like I got in the rasta mood a bit early?


Carson & Laura sat with Allen and had a pretty view.


The flight was uneventful, and the believers in gum chewed it tasteless.


There was a shuttle to the hotel. On the way there we passed Mimosa-leaved trees with beautiful red flowers.


We also passed a Mexian Air Force Base.


I wasn’t fast enough to get a picture of it. Kickapoo airport shamed it. This picture reminds me that Cozumel is part of the state “Quitana Roo,” which I find funny. I guess it shouldn’t make me chuckle—does it make less sense or sound sillier than “Nebraska” or “Oklahoma?”

The hotel was pretty, and it was hot HUMID and sunny.


We got to the hotel around noon and discovered we could check in, but couldn’t get into our rooms until 3:00. Not to worry, they give you your key to the kingdom in the form of an unremovable wrist band. Free (already paid for) everything, here we come! They hold your luggage and let you frolic until check in. The lobby was full of Mexican tour agents, vying for your attention. There were three or four companies and thankfully their workers wore the same color shirts. They all offered the same things: snorkel cruises, sunset cruises, swim with the dolphins, bus or fly to Chichen Itza, etc. We kept going back to the same company that got us there, “Worry Free Travel.” The lobby was also full of confused Americans. We changed into our swimsuits in the lobby restroom and headed out to the beautiful blue ocean.


This is definitely the clearest unbelievably cobalt-blue ocean water I’ve ever seen. (For those wanting to correct me, the cobalt is further out toward the horizon). Pictures don’t do it justice. The pictures start to peter out here for today because I don’t want my camera on the beach.

Tina finds a drink.


There’s a place where you can check out snorkel gear, which we all do. Allen and Shannon check out an inflatable kayak. The girls can’t believe they’re less than 24 hours from their package—getting their hair braided and beaded. And I float.

The evening brings a Caribbean-themed buffet which has tons on it—chicken, beef, fish, fresh fruit, vegetables, and dessert. It’s all good for everyone. There’s some kind of entertainment pageant going on while we’re eating and Laura, Carson, and Shannon go join the dancing on the stage. I didn’t get good pictures because it was too far away. Ask one of the girls to do the chant. “Follow the leada, leada, leada, follow the leada whoop whoop!” “Give it op!” I can’t get my voice that high.

Yeah, and I check out the stars here. We’re on the Northwest side of the island so I can only see the usual stuff. The hotel, the city, and a bunch of lights are between where we are and what I want to see, so it can wait for another night.