Posts tagged ‘Westin Cancun’
On a visit to Cancun Blonde and Brunette were luxuriating for a free week at the Westin, courtesy of our Starwood Amex points. We had both been to Cancun previously and wanted to see some places we hadn’t seen before and revisit some favorites. Buses are cheap and easy for getting around in Cancun but to do any exploring away from the resort area, it’s necessary to rent a car. We arranged with the hotel to have one delivered to us.
The Westin has a gate that must be raised by an attendant in order for cars to enter or exit. This will deter even the most sophisticated drug cartels or terrorists so there’s no arguing with the soundness of the approach.
Upon delivery of the car Blonde agreed to be the first to drive. As is generally the case with rentals outside of the U.S., the car had a stick shift. Both B&B learned to drive on stick shifts so, theoretically, are able to do so even these many years later. Theoretically Congress works for their constituents, Mitt Romney didn’t actually want to be president at all and Donald Trump’s hair is a natural growth. And theoretically Brunette remembered how to drive a stick.
The driving duo exited semi-smoothly as Blonde is the man when it comes to driving and could get underway with minimal hopping or stalling. After a trip to Akumal Blonde announced that it was Brunette’s turn to drive back to the Westin. After massive giggling, car hopping, jumping and leaping we got to the highway and Brunette found her mojo. No stops, no hills, no traffic, no problem.
As the Westin is at the far southern end of the hotels it is the first one you encounter when returning from Akumal. Brunette has many useful skills but navigation is not among them. As the hotel suddenly appeared Blonde called out “turn right, this is our entrance”! Brunette twisted the wheel but couldn’t make the turn and and also downshift so we jumped into the driveway like cartoon characters. The gate attendant’s pupils dilated to the size of hubcaps and he pushed the button to make the gate fly up – no questions asked.
We had the exhilaration that comes from cheating death and were, of course, giggling as we tried to feign being cool by promptly driving into a lot reserved for the property’s vehicles. Brunette then had to find reverse and hop, skip and jump our way out of the lot as amused workers looked on. Somehow we managed to land in front of the fascinated, brave valet at the door. He was all too happy to take the keys away from us.
Not a pair to learn much from our mistakes, each day Blonde drove out and Brunette drove back. And each day the driveway to the Westin jumped out at Brunette without warning. She always panicked, jerked the wheel and flung the car in the general direction of the hotel. The gate was thrown into the air without the attendant caring if we were bringing in a shipment of Uzis, homicidal gorillas or Charlie Sheen.
Try this, it may save you some time waiting for those pesky gates to open. It certainly did for us.
(It was a shame that the gate attendant developed PTSD but that surely was a coincidence and his lawsuit will be dismissed – we hope.)
One year when Blonde was inexplicably employed, but in a state of suspended work animation waiting for an acquisition to be completed, she and Brunette took advantage of the lull to go to Cancun. In yet another uncompensated (damn!) plug for SPG Awards we used free points for a week at the Westin Cancun.
Brunette has a very odd perspective on swimming pools. She thinks you’re supposed to swim laps in them. The more sensible Blonde swims enough laps to show that she could be a contender but would prefer to sit adorably in the shade and read.
The Westin has a beautiful pool for the beautiful people and a lap pool for the rest of us. Prior to getting into the lap pool B&B claimed two lounge chairs to be used after Blonde’s refreshing dip and Brunette’s simulation of swimming The English Channel.
Blonde emerged first and settled into her pre-ordained chair under a large sun umbrella and began to read her book. Two men were on nearby lounge chairs. One man was videotaping the other. The videographer was a loud-talking dwarf and his subject (more accurately his victim) was a standard issue massively fat-bellied White guy.
Admittedly Blonde is an unabashed eavesdropper but it was impossible not to hear the obstreperous dwarf. Both men were attending some sort of annual conference. The dwarf was noisily informing the victim that he (dwarf) makes a video each year of each attendee saying something lame he’s badgered them into saying. Then he makes a compilation of annoyed, badgered people and sends disks of said video to each of them at Christmas. (Blonde would love to be on this mailing list – it would definitely lead to wine being snorted out of her nose.)
The victim was wary and unwilling but, as it just seems wrong to be rude to a dwarf colleague, he consented. He didn’t know what to say. The dwarf made very creative suggestions along the lines of “say hi to everyone and that you’re having fun here in Cancun”. The victim robotically repeated the lines to the dwarf’s delight.
Then, as if they’d completed a satisfying sexual encounter, both men lit up huge cigars. (Sometimes a cigar really is just a cigar. However, in this situation, one of the cigars provoked Blonde’s imagination as to issues of proportionality that were not in the dwarf’s favor.)
Blonde and Brunette are both aggressively opposed to smoking, and cigars add a level of disgust. It seems to take about 3 hours to smoke a cigar and the smell lingers in the air for weeks. However, the pool area was not designated as being non-smoking so Blonde decided her only recourse was to take her stuff, make faces dramatically displaying her olfactory disgust and move away from the dynamic duo.
Moving the chairs, towels and other debris associated with a trip to the pool was easy enough. However, the sun umbrella was very heavy and unwieldy. Blonde attempted to move it but met with no success and a painfully scraped toe. (Why do Mexican EMTs get so pissed off when they’re called for a damaged pedicure?)
Dwarf to the rescue! He came bounding over to Blonde and apologized if she was moving due to their cigars. She was and said so but conceded their right to do disgusting things. He then offered to move the umbrella. By this time Brunette had slithered out of the pool and was gaping in astonishment.
That dwarf must be, or certainly could be, a professional sun umbrella mover. He put his hands around the pole, twirled it quickly, smoothly and without incident into the correct position at our new location. Blonde was trying to keep a straight face while expressing her appreciation and suppressing her amazement.
Brunette dripped over to the chairs and she and Blonde did not make eye contact or attempt to speak until the dwarf and his rotund victim exited the scene. That was a barely survived character-testing incident. At the first possible second after the mismatched men exited we started laughing so hard it’s best not to consider everywhere pool water, or whatever, was being snorted and otherwise expelled by our bodies.