Priii--vate

We've got to find an access to the beach.  After all, that was one of the draws for going to a warm space, right?  Truth be known, I'd seen enough sand during our tour of the hotel's grounds on the previous day but what the hey.  So after breakfast, we're off. Don't have a clue as to how to get there but we finally wound our way past cabanas, with the sun worshipers in various states of dress, down onto a very narrow stretch of beach.  I guess this is what is known as a cove.

Okay, we've seen it and I don't like sand between my toes.  But, looky here, there are all kinds of stores (little shacks) with tourist wares.  I'm in heaven.  What's that sign at the far end of the beach?  It looks like--it can't say--WALMART?  Get the hell out of here.  Trudge along to the far end.  Got to see this.  What a hoot!

Time to find the way back up to the hotel.  Start climbing back toward the cabanas. We hear this raspy voice steadily intoning: "Priv-ate. Its priii--vate." That's fine. We're just trying to get back to the hotel.  "It's priii--vate." Give us a break, lady.  We are not trying to invade your privacy, rob you, or become your friend. I just want to get back to the top of the damned hill. But we turn around, go all the way back to the beach, and start all over again. Using the public access, this time.

All inclusive means just that--food and drinks are included.  I fully intended to make every meal.  Won't bore you with that.  You've already picked up on my opinion that the food was filling but nothing to write home about.  I still can't figure out where they hid the spices.  And, the chil'ren quickly got on my last nerve. Note to self:  Check to see if rug rats are allowed. To be fair, the resort had a day-care center set up for them so they only became visible and noisy during meals.

The entertainment crew put on a show that evening, sparsely attended, but great fun. Lots of dancing, skits, and music. One of the acts was to a Michael Jackson song and if you didn't know that Michael was dead and gone, you'd have sworn that he was on stage.  This young man had every dance step down pat.

Picked up some young friends (you know that I'm in the habit of adopting "baby boys") from Baltimore. Talking about a lost cause.  These chil'ren missed damned near everything.  Don't know what they were doing after dark but the next morning always found them in a befuddled state of mind.  "Did you see me last night?"

But the real laugh came when I looked up from my drink and there they stood, inflatable rafts in hand.  The water was too cold and they really wanted to get in the pool.  "Did you rent them?"  "No, ma'am."  Lawd, Lawd! My chil'ren; my chil'ren.

Night life coming up.  Be Safe. Be Blessed.