So there we are with about a week of blissful relaxation in Zih stretching ahead of us... no worries... nothing but sun and a lounge chair at Rossys with my name written all over it. But all the while a pesky little voice in my head keeps reminding me at the end of these halcyon days looms the prospect of a reserved rental car and points north on Hwy 200. No. We hadn't learned our lesson about cars or driving in Mexico last year. We felt compelled to once again exercise our grossly inferiour multi-tasking skills . Yep, give us a challenge like dodging hideously large topes that haven't seen a coat of red warning paint in 30 years while simultaneously trying to outscream one other. I couldn't wait.
But first we need to take care of all the sentimental Zih traditions we have developed over the years. Of course there is the mandatory visit to Coconuts Bar for our photo documentation of the Trek Trio in Zihuatanejo. Every year we sit at approximately the same place along the bar and bribe one of the harried bartenders into taking our picture. Over the years, the biggest difference in these pics seem to be my fickle hairstyle preference, although maybe a bit more gray is evident on the boys. Below is this years photo.. and no, as delighted as he looks, Im not trying to feel up Daniel's armpit.
Then there is Bandidos.
Bandidos .. Bandidos.. Bandidos.. What is it about you ? You make me feel like a blushing high school girl with a wild crush and aching libido. Of course we had to go running back. (well ok.. I did) Calle Cinco De Mayo by the Church.. Salsa dancing.. live music...amazing staff - Marcos, The suave mysterious host ... Enrique, the saucy salsa master... Miquel ( someone MARRY this sweet man!!) and Carlos , the Bobby Darin clone who at any given moment you expect to belt out Mack the Knife. What more can I say people?!
Damn. Just go.