Shopped, stocked, all ready
awaiting our white Christmas
oven fires stoked
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Happy Holidays!
To all my friends, family and loyal followers, thank you for taking the time to visit my blog.
Here's hoping that your 2010 is filled with health, and hearty laughter.
Happy Holidays!
Dave
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Mexican Vacation, Part Two
We left the room, the phone still ringing, and made our way to the pool. Like the rest of the condo/resort, it was sparsely populated. A few families sat around the giant pool, which palm-lined snaked throughout the huge complex, past the Pirate Ship bar, anchored in the pool, but most of the activity taking place around us were small sales clusters – invariably a prospective couple or two led by a quick-paced sales chick, gesticulating loudly, waving her clipboard, and moving the herd deftly through the steps of their ‘free tour.’
We traded in our towel cards, and made our way to our chaise lounges. It didn’t take long for Tammy to make her decision. “Would you think I was crazy if I said ‘let’s check out of this place ... now?’ There is a World’s Leading Hotel Resorts that I found when I was doing my research down here, and I’d like to try to see if we could get in there.”
“I figured that we wouldn’t be staying here all week,” I replied. After five years, I knew enough to know the telltale Tammy’s patterns. If she didn’t like a table, or a room, or a resort, she’d do something about it. No matter if, as in this case, we’d already pre-paid the week’s stay through Priceline, and would probably not be able to recoup our money. Where once I had fought such impromptu changes, now I knew enough to know that she’d get her way in the end anyway, so I might as well acquiesce now and save us all the time and hassle. “No problem dear,” I said.
And fast as we could, we packed up the room and checked out of the Villa del Arco --itself not an easy process. Forget about Holiday Inn Express – here they did not want to let the sales prospect fish slip off the hook. “Why, may we ask, are you checking out after only one night?” they queried. And could they entice us to stay by offering a room upgrade? But they did not know the Tammy patterns like I did. We persisted, so after a few more phone calls to the manager, and after inviting us to write down on a piece a paper the reason we were leaving early (which we both did with great gusto, using both sides of the paper), the woman at the front desk gave us our exit pass, and we were allowed to proceed to the bell man.
We climbed aboard a taxi van, and zoomed down Mexico Highway 1. Thirty minutes later we arrived at the Hotel Marquis. The Marquis is a 5-star resort, with Zen sculpture gardens, eternity reflecting pools, and big beautiful oceanfront rooms with spa tubs and bath towels shaped like swans. It was a world away and apart from our first day.
Yes, this is the Mexican vacation that we were looking for. OK. So we are spending more than we had planned (but only by a little, as we were able to get a good deal here, and even with the pre-paid Priceline package thrown on top, it turned out to be not so bad.) But hey, and here is the lesson of this two-part tale: it was worth it. You only go round once in life, and you might as well do it in style. It pays to go first class.
Tammy is enjoying the accommodations. The concierge called her a doctor, who immediately made a house call to the resort and after an examination prescribed the right mix of drugs, which the hotel pharmacy had sent up to the room. Talk about service – the staff here has been amazing. At the recommendation of the spa manager, Tammy took advantage of healing eucalyptus spa treatments and specially concocted essential oils, and the result of all this is that she is finally on the mend.
So today as I write this, it is my 50th birthday. We celebrated the day by first sunning by the reflecting pool, and then strolling along the magnificent Mexican beach, watching and listening to the sea. It is truly a beautiful scene here. The place is great. The service is amazing. The drinks are strong and true. We are in paradise, and it feels like we have the entire place to ourselves.
While normally I do not smoke, I decide to buy a Cuban cigar to mark the occasion. Tonight, after a splendid meal of fine grilled fish, Tammy and I settle into our oceanfront balcony, listen to the waves of the Sea of Cortez crash against the shoreline and enjoy the smell of the fine smoke.
We traded in our towel cards, and made our way to our chaise lounges. It didn’t take long for Tammy to make her decision. “Would you think I was crazy if I said ‘let’s check out of this place ... now?’ There is a World’s Leading Hotel Resorts that I found when I was doing my research down here, and I’d like to try to see if we could get in there.”
“I figured that we wouldn’t be staying here all week,” I replied. After five years, I knew enough to know the telltale Tammy’s patterns. If she didn’t like a table, or a room, or a resort, she’d do something about it. No matter if, as in this case, we’d already pre-paid the week’s stay through Priceline, and would probably not be able to recoup our money. Where once I had fought such impromptu changes, now I knew enough to know that she’d get her way in the end anyway, so I might as well acquiesce now and save us all the time and hassle. “No problem dear,” I said.
And fast as we could, we packed up the room and checked out of the Villa del Arco --itself not an easy process. Forget about Holiday Inn Express – here they did not want to let the sales prospect fish slip off the hook. “Why, may we ask, are you checking out after only one night?” they queried. And could they entice us to stay by offering a room upgrade? But they did not know the Tammy patterns like I did. We persisted, so after a few more phone calls to the manager, and after inviting us to write down on a piece a paper the reason we were leaving early (which we both did with great gusto, using both sides of the paper), the woman at the front desk gave us our exit pass, and we were allowed to proceed to the bell man.
We climbed aboard a taxi van, and zoomed down Mexico Highway 1. Thirty minutes later we arrived at the Hotel Marquis. The Marquis is a 5-star resort, with Zen sculpture gardens, eternity reflecting pools, and big beautiful oceanfront rooms with spa tubs and bath towels shaped like swans. It was a world away and apart from our first day.
Yes, this is the Mexican vacation that we were looking for. OK. So we are spending more than we had planned (but only by a little, as we were able to get a good deal here, and even with the pre-paid Priceline package thrown on top, it turned out to be not so bad.) But hey, and here is the lesson of this two-part tale: it was worth it. You only go round once in life, and you might as well do it in style. It pays to go first class.
Tammy is enjoying the accommodations. The concierge called her a doctor, who immediately made a house call to the resort and after an examination prescribed the right mix of drugs, which the hotel pharmacy had sent up to the room. Talk about service – the staff here has been amazing. At the recommendation of the spa manager, Tammy took advantage of healing eucalyptus spa treatments and specially concocted essential oils, and the result of all this is that she is finally on the mend.
So today as I write this, it is my 50th birthday. We celebrated the day by first sunning by the reflecting pool, and then strolling along the magnificent Mexican beach, watching and listening to the sea. It is truly a beautiful scene here. The place is great. The service is amazing. The drinks are strong and true. We are in paradise, and it feels like we have the entire place to ourselves.
While normally I do not smoke, I decide to buy a Cuban cigar to mark the occasion. Tonight, after a splendid meal of fine grilled fish, Tammy and I settle into our oceanfront balcony, listen to the waves of the Sea of Cortez crash against the shoreline and enjoy the smell of the fine smoke.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Mexican Vacation, Part I
Mexico has always been the destination of decadence
So it makes sense that there would be a drug dealer greeting you at the door.
And that is still the case.
Today, however, time-shares are the dealers drug of choice.
They pounce on you as soon as you arrive at the airport. Uniform-jacketed with official nametags “Where are you staying,” and the rap begins.
No matter your response they steer you to the “official agent” for your hotel “See it says it right here, senor” – all the while all we want to do is find the “pre-paid resort shuttle that will take us to our Priceline Mexican vacation.
At the desk we are told our shuttle has just left, but that they, as official agents of the resort will offer us free massage, free dinners, free activities, if only we’ll attend this free breakfast. “It’s a marketing thing, “ Eduardo tells us. “So that you’ll tell your friends about the resort and they’ll come too.”
And no matter what we say, “We’re just trying to get to the resort. We’ve been up since 4 am (true) and she is sick as a dog (also true), all we want to do is find the shuttle, get checked into our rooms, and find the bed” – no matter, Eduardo has a mission and that mission is to “give us all these great things, just sign here. “
In the end, we negotiated a deal: we’d give him $20 US and sign up for the free breakfast. With that we were allowed to pass the juggernaut, and then told to wait until the shuttle was ready. 20 minutes later (It’s now been nearly an hour after arriving ) the shuttle loads us up to our resort – Villa del Arco.
Upon arriving at Villa del Arco, and tipping the shuttle guy for the 50 minute trip, and our bags, we are seized upon by the next wave of Condo Salespeople. The next wave is a little more sophisticated. Hot Mexican Chicks in sleek skirts and tight blouses; they greet you with big smiles, all heels and clipboard. The “concierge” will be right with you. From then on in, our check-in journey is steered by Julia. She’s late-twenties, tanned, blonde and attractive in a kind of hard “I’ve been around the block a time or two”, Island Real Estate, sex sells sort-of-way.
She has fancier brochures than the guy at the airport, and a better manicure job, but essentially Julia’s deal is the same. But here it is referred to as “the gold card” Do you have your gold card membership? They are good for discounts all over the three resorts, and the shop. Everyone will ask you for your membership card.
Membership card is code word for timeshare. They want you to buy into the program. For this is not a resort at all. It is a giant sales pitch. We booked the trip at the last minute. See it is my fiftieth birthday, and Tammy turned 40 this past summer. This, we decided, would be a great combined celebration. All we want is a little Fun, Sun, just pure relaxation. But Tammy is sick as a dog, and salespeople surround us. Even at the local market, they ask us if we are ready for our breakfast. Two guys in suit pants and short sleeves, guys we’ve never seen, approach us with more clipboards and this time walkie talkies. They call to us by name. They know who we are. We are in the system, and they are going to keep track of us for the week. Oy. We tell the Mexican Mafia (as Tammy later names them) suited guys we’re not interested. They persist: “We’ll give you more free stuff.” No, No. “Really, what do you want…”
To be left alone. We make it to the shuttle and back to our rooms. Tammy and I have decided to make our way to the pool, and hope we’re not accosted along the way. In the meantime the phone rings; we decide not to answer it.
To be continued…
So it makes sense that there would be a drug dealer greeting you at the door.
And that is still the case.
Today, however, time-shares are the dealers drug of choice.
They pounce on you as soon as you arrive at the airport. Uniform-jacketed with official nametags “Where are you staying,” and the rap begins.
No matter your response they steer you to the “official agent” for your hotel “See it says it right here, senor” – all the while all we want to do is find the “pre-paid resort shuttle that will take us to our Priceline Mexican vacation.
At the desk we are told our shuttle has just left, but that they, as official agents of the resort will offer us free massage, free dinners, free activities, if only we’ll attend this free breakfast. “It’s a marketing thing, “ Eduardo tells us. “So that you’ll tell your friends about the resort and they’ll come too.”
And no matter what we say, “We’re just trying to get to the resort. We’ve been up since 4 am (true) and she is sick as a dog (also true), all we want to do is find the shuttle, get checked into our rooms, and find the bed” – no matter, Eduardo has a mission and that mission is to “give us all these great things, just sign here. “
In the end, we negotiated a deal: we’d give him $20 US and sign up for the free breakfast. With that we were allowed to pass the juggernaut, and then told to wait until the shuttle was ready. 20 minutes later (It’s now been nearly an hour after arriving ) the shuttle loads us up to our resort – Villa del Arco.
Upon arriving at Villa del Arco, and tipping the shuttle guy for the 50 minute trip, and our bags, we are seized upon by the next wave of Condo Salespeople. The next wave is a little more sophisticated. Hot Mexican Chicks in sleek skirts and tight blouses; they greet you with big smiles, all heels and clipboard. The “concierge” will be right with you. From then on in, our check-in journey is steered by Julia. She’s late-twenties, tanned, blonde and attractive in a kind of hard “I’ve been around the block a time or two”, Island Real Estate, sex sells sort-of-way.
She has fancier brochures than the guy at the airport, and a better manicure job, but essentially Julia’s deal is the same. But here it is referred to as “the gold card” Do you have your gold card membership? They are good for discounts all over the three resorts, and the shop. Everyone will ask you for your membership card.
Membership card is code word for timeshare. They want you to buy into the program. For this is not a resort at all. It is a giant sales pitch. We booked the trip at the last minute. See it is my fiftieth birthday, and Tammy turned 40 this past summer. This, we decided, would be a great combined celebration. All we want is a little Fun, Sun, just pure relaxation. But Tammy is sick as a dog, and salespeople surround us. Even at the local market, they ask us if we are ready for our breakfast. Two guys in suit pants and short sleeves, guys we’ve never seen, approach us with more clipboards and this time walkie talkies. They call to us by name. They know who we are. We are in the system, and they are going to keep track of us for the week. Oy. We tell the Mexican Mafia (as Tammy later names them) suited guys we’re not interested. They persist: “We’ll give you more free stuff.” No, No. “Really, what do you want…”
To be left alone. We make it to the shuttle and back to our rooms. Tammy and I have decided to make our way to the pool, and hope we’re not accosted along the way. In the meantime the phone rings; we decide not to answer it.
To be continued…
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Iz Man and the Penguin
The Bellevue Mall was over-run with festive holiday characters last night. Giant drummer boys and toy soldiers, ice princess, and of course, Santa Claus. Here, the Iz Man poses with a friendly penguin.
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