Greetings from Ambergris Caye! I seem to be getting into the island time groove – pity that it’s taken me 48 hours to remember how to relax. Hopefully by tomorrow I will have arrived at that blissful place where work is a distant memory, and all that matters is the sand between my toes and the drink in my hand.
We watched the first half of the SuperBowl across the street at the Lone Star Bar (I’m not sure why it’s called that; the new owners aren’t from Texas, as far as I know) on Sunday night, sipping rum punch and trying to hear the commercials. Then returned to our condo to watch the second half with friends, and cheer for the 49ers (well, I was cheering for them, anyway, but as is my norm, they lost). At least it was a good game – and I didn’t have to watch my Broncos lose…
Today started with a long walk on the beach with Sandy, followed by sunning with new friends Joe and Connie. Then a bunch of us hopped a boat to the Palapa Bar, my new favorite bar in the universe. It’s casual and fun, the owners are wonderful, the food is good, and the dogs – and staff – are friendly. I had a watermelon whatchamacallit, the main ingredient being fresh watermelon juice. (The second main ingredient was rum. I have no clue if there was a third main ingredient.) We lazed in the sun on the deck while Kelly played a couple of songs, then Sandy and I hopped yet another boat to the downtown area, where we shopped and planned the rest of our week.
Drinks at Pelican Reef – the sister property to Athens Gate – were on the agenda when we got home. I wanted to sit at the swim-up bar, but the sun was setting and a stiff breeze made that a little bit too chilly of a prospect. So I sipped pina coladas at the drier side of the bar, and watched the infinity pool as it poured into the ocean.
A quick dinner across the street, and then I decompressed in the condo, after a long day talking and sunning and drinking and visiting. This relaxing stuff is exhausting
Tomorrow, Sandy and I plan to get our share of suntanning accomplished early. Kelly plays tomorrow night. And somewhere in there will be beaches and food and adult beverages. It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell you more about my theories on why my traveling shoes don’t fit like they used to…but til then, I hear a beach calling my name…