The gate, flight, and immigration line audibly buzzed with excitement. Flying from Denver to Puerto Vallarta at the end of January meant a sunny break from life in the dead of winter. Everyone was in a great mood and excited to start their vacations (I mean, really. Does anyone really go and work there?) My partner and I were certainly no different – neither he or I had ever taken a “we are doing nothing” trip and we were desperate for the sweet relief of no responsibilities with the convenient excuse of my birthday thrown into the mix.
I can’t adequately explain how badly each of us needed a vacation – and how much we needed the escape from real life, together. This trip was done on the cheap, using up the rest of my flight cancelations from covid to cover our flight costs to Mexico. I booked us a decent hotel with a fantastic view for way less than what we would pay in the US. And then it was just food, Ubers, and trinkets to take home. No itinerary beyond flights, no expectations beyond finding good tequila.
Anyone who has flown into a resort town like Puerto Vallarta is definitely going to be shaking their head at us, but upon arrival, we immediately we got suckered into getting help finding a “taxi/directions to the Uber.” They didn’t lie, but, by the time we got in our taxi, we had purchased tickets to Rhythms of the Night (a Cirque du Soleil-esque show on a private beach a boat ride away). So much for no agenda – but come on, we got welcome shots of tequila and supersized communion cups full of margarita. Several rounds. Now, I’ve been to a lot of countries around the world and I was pretty sure we were going to regret our choice to stop and listen to the airport guys at some point in the week, but that was a problem for future us. In the meantime, let’s go – there’s a full-size margarita with my name on it out there!
Our room at Mondavi had an incredible view of the bay, perched on the side of a mountain to the south. The hotel was clearly a gem in her day and is being nursed back to her former glory, but as is, it was sufficient. Friendly staff, comfortable rooms, and again – the view! However, we didn’t have access to lounge chairs and cabana boys on the beach like we had fantasized about (and getting there required a very steep and winding cobblestone walk down the mountain or a long wait for an Uber), but it didn’t keep us from visiting the shore every chance we got.
Our go-go-go lives back home cried out for this foreign-to-us ‘one wave at a time’ lifestyle. Sitting on the “everything bagel sand,” as my guy called it, the hypnotic effects of its song took hold, melting away anxieties and stress. Naps were had, crabs and sea urchins were spotted, and peace descended upon us once again. This is the vacation we sought.
Hunger led us to venture up the coast to Old Vallarta and Muertos Beach where I was beyond ecstatic to see humpback whales breaching in the bay. I definitely want to go on a whale watching tour to see them up-close at some point, but this was an incredible moment of my life, seeing the enormous creatures for the very first time, spewing mists of water and leaping into the air. I stood and stared for a long time, forgetting my growling stomach. I was absolutely delighted.
And then I got a text.
My divorce was officially finalized.
The bullet train of real life came barreling through vacation-mode with a full mix of emotions aboard. On the very last day of my 40th year (a year I promised change and growth to myself), the 22-month, exhausting ordeal was finally, legally over. And while I cried a little bit on my partner’s shoulder in both relief and grief for the loss of 19 and a half years of marriage, he asked me, “Who would you rather be with when you got that news?” He was spot on, but the magic of the whales had dissipated in the sudden jerk back to reality. It was time to move on, both emotionally and literally.
We found a lot of tequila that afternoon.
The next day was my birthday, but also the day we had agreed to go “see a hotel and get massages” in exchange for discounted show tickets, a bottle of tequila, and a couple’s massage. Yes, that’s right. We spent a huge chunk of my birthday on a real-couple rite of passage: The Timeshare Prison.
Let me be clear. From the beginning, we were very upfront about our situation – my guy’s top priority is buying the business he manages in a few months; oh, and the fact that we have six kids between us. You know, the real life that would keep us from making a $27,000 down payment purchase that day. Or the $9,000 version they re-pitched. Or, after waiting in purgatory for the sales team to get all the other customers cleared out to bring out the gruff, old-as-the-hills jefe to offer us a rock-bottom deal as their hail Mary full of grace. We stood our ground. This was not happening. You could see the defeat on their faces as they finally took us downstairs to collect our hard-earned two bottles of alcohol, massage certificate, and voucher for the show tickets, thank you very much. We will be getting on with our vacation now – and we did in all the fun and crazy ways. (The show experience was fun, by the way, even if the margaritas on the boat were more water than any other ingredient. We managed to make up for it later that evening.)
The gate and flight back to Denver was decidedly more subdued than our flight there, with travelers waiting to make the inevitable return to real life.
While one of the four bottles of liquor in my suitcase leaked a bit on the trip home (eternally smelling like tequila now), all my good memories managed to stay intact.
I escape to the beach in my mind. I float in the infinity pool, watching whales surface under a pink and orange sunset. I feel sand under my feet at upscale dinners and laugh about the dance on the deck of our party boat that continued long into the night in a crowded bar. I keep these memories close at hand and unpack them as needed, now that I’m back into the real world, officially on my own. I’m keeping a bit of Mexico in my heart…
I’m holding on to my waves, whales, and winning the timeshare game. This is exactly why we travel.
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