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Mexico

For my birthday this year, Sarah and I headed down to Mexico. This was a bit of an unusual vacation that didn’t really feel like a vacation, but in the opposite of the usual “we went to somewhere because we had to, and now need a week of vacation.” It was also noticeably different than my usual solo trips to oddball places that are more of an experience than actual rest.

So the deal: we flew in to Cancun, but actually stayed at a medical wellness spa about ten miles north, at Costa Mujeres. Flight in was delayed by three hours due to a broken plane, but it was a straight shot from SFO, maybe five hours. Got there and had a driver waiting, so we didn’t have to run the gauntlet of transportation people on the way out. We got loaded into an SUV and drove through Cancun at night, looking at the surrounding stuff on 307, but going straight to the facility.

I think the first question I kept getting was if I was worried about immigration or about the general safety, which is a bit silly. Immigration in and out was absolutely minimal. Coming back to the US, I’m pre-vetted with Global Entry and don’t even talk to a person. The immigration into Mexico was only a “how many days/where are you staying” and a stamp in the passport. As far as safety, we stayed at the facility the entire time, and it was roughly five times safer than an upscale Disney vacation. We were talking about this and I was trying to think of the most unsafe place I’ve ever been, and it would definitely be the United States. I mean, I caught RSV in Dubai, and I went to a statistically unsafe beach in Iceland because of the cold and brutal sneaker waves. But every time I’ve ever felt imminent danger, it’s been in the US. Anyway, Mexico was entirely safe.

The resort was insanely beautiful. It was a single curved row of suites, made to look like a strand of DNA from the top. Every unit had a view of the water and a private balcony, and the door opened up to a long balcony walkway that looked out over a mangrove forest. They built the place maybe two years ago, and it all looked ultra-modern and high-tech. There were infinity pools and fountains facing the water, with a white sand beach below. The entire facility was impeccable. Our room was giant, a suite with a living area, a balcony, and a bathroom roughly as big as our living room back home. It was all truly five-star.

On the first day, we started the program. We weren’t on a particular plan, but they offer different plans like for weight loss, smoking cessation, women’s health, longevity, performance training, and so on. I began with a battery of tests and evaluations, scans and measurements and blood draws, meetings with doctors, a dentist, various specialists, and a nutritionist. I got set up with a specific nutritional plan for the trip, and met with a coordinator to register for the various activities and treatments I wanted for the week. Everything’s done in an app, which keeps your schedule, shows activities available, and keeps your test results and meal menus for the week.

So there’s one dining facility you go to three times a day, and your meal times are scheduled. It’s a pretty swanky restaurant, with inside and outside seating. The food was all insanely good. I wasn’t programmed in for weight loss or for sugar detox, and was given extra protein for each meal, usually either additional tofu or tempeh, or sometimes a protein shake. The food was vaguely a Mediterranean diet, with no red meat or chicken, occasional fish, and mostly vegetable protein, but not strictly vegetarian or vegan. Portions were controlled, but no more so than any fancy restaurant that isn’t shoveling out buffet food. Everything looked and tasted incredible, and the staff were also great to work with at each meal. (Also, not on the menu, but Sarah somehow bribed someone in the kitchen, and on the night of my birthday, I got a slice of flourless chocolate cake. I don’t know if it was my general sugar depravation or not, but it was insanely good. Definitely not nutritionist-approved.)

I won’t get too into the medical stuff in a public post, but I did some physiotherapy and osteopathy on my back, and worked with a trainer to stretch more. There was a world-class gym on the top floor, and I went there every day. The bottom floor had a hydrotherapy circuit, which was fun: a walk-through pool of freezing cold water, then a Jacuzzi of boiling hot water. The main pool was warm, and had these water jet things that ranged from a pleasing massage to enough pressure to remove paint from a car. We also took a healthy cooking class, where we learned how to make various vegetable protein snacks and foods.

It’s hard to write much more about the week because it wasn’t about what did happen, but what didn’t happen. It was probably the lowest amount of stress I’ve had in my life since I was a teenager. There was no itinerary of museums and shops and landmarks I had to see. I didn’t do the usual ritual of filling dead space in the day by shoveling calories into my head. The TV never got turned on. I didn’t think of work at all. I just walked, exercised, ate long meals and talked with Sarah, and did nothing. It was incredible.

Another odd thing was that there weren’t many people there, and you seldom saw anyone. I think they scheduled meals in such a way that there were never crowds, and there were maybe a dozen or a dozen and a half guests there at any time. The people I saw – this was a real White Lotus situation, absurdly beautiful women and rich guys who if you asked them what they do, they would scoff and say, “Well, a little investing, and I’m on a few boards” and it turns out they’re like the COO of GE Healthcare or something. No kids, either. Overall, it was an extremely quiet situation, and everyone treated everyone else like how you act as a New Yorker when you run into someone famous. The brief head nod, ignore them otherwise.

Unfortunately, it all ended on Saturday. I had one more treatment that morning, and we had breakfast and lunch, then we said our goodbyes, paid up the tab, and a driver brought us back to the airport. It was an abrupt culture shock, as the Cancun airport is always cramped and crowded. I immediately fell off the wagon and got a Coke Zero. Flight back was pretty uneventful. I had Global Entry and got back in the country without even talking to anyone.

I immediately was back into the fray with work and house stuff. (We got the place painted while we were gone, and had to move everything back into place, which took a few days.) I am still trying to figure out exactly how this could work, how I could capture a few practices from the trip and make the other 51 weeks of the year match the pattern a bit more. Looking at my numbers, and my sleep and HRV were way better there. I didn’t gain or lose weight on the trip, but there was some non-tangible improvement in my general digestive health. Not looking for answers here, and I know some of them. It’s just a matter of building routines to support things better.

Anyway. Good stuff. I’d love to go back, or do a similar thing in another country. Maybe in the fall. First, I think there will be another dumb trip in late spring. I’ll start thinking about that in a month or two.

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Back in the U S and A

I’m back in Oakland.  I got back late late last night, after a very long travel day.  We weren’t able to check in online at the hotel (nevermind that the hotel computer had one of those whacked-out non-US keyboards where the backslash character is Control-Alt-Shift-Start-Caps Lock or something) and we left early to get to the airport, expecting some giant snafu involving visas or whatever.  Turns out there were absolutely zero people at the Zihua airport, and we got in quick and then had three hours to kill.  We then had a puddle-jumper to Mexico City, where we then had another four hours to kill.  Then the flight, then customs, then waiting for luggage, then the skytrain to the car, then a drive from SFO to home.  The door to door time was fifteen hours.

I took the day off for sanity purposes, which was good.  It also meant I got to drive back to my old neighborhood of South San Francisco to see the dentist, get some x-rays and see how the Mexican dental procedure held up.  He said it’s fine for now, but I’ll need a new crown in the long run.

I posted photos here although I have not sorted/tagged/captioned anything.  If you see something and want to know the story, holler.

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Hello from Mexico

IMG_1643I’m writing from a hotel room in Ixtapa, Mexico, where I’ve been hanging out for almost a week.  We flew down last Saturday, and fly back on Sunday.  This has been our first real vacation since our honeymoon in the Bahamas in 2007, except for long weekends, trips back to the Midwest for holidays, and the week I took off to move into our new place, and it’s been long overdue.

Mexico’s a strange place.  First, it’s strange that my didn’t-pay-attention-twenty-years-ago Spanish is somewhat functional here, and fragments of it have been coming back to me as we stumble through menus and tours.  Yes, most of the people here, especially those in the tourism-related industries (which is pretty much all of Ixtapa and Zihuantanejo) speak English.  But they also like it when you try to use Spanish, and they all seem to love trying to teach you a few words here and there en Espanol.

We’re in one of the poorest states in the country, and once you leave our hotel, you can see it.  Ixtapa’s not much more than a marina, a row of resorts, and a couple of golf courses, but Zihua is a pretty beat city.  Walking the rows of open markets and ramshackle properties, pretty much the only high tech things you will see are Coke or Corona signs.  Any feeling you may have about being the Ugly American here is quickly dissipated by the thought that at least the pesos you’re throwing out there are going to someone who needs them.

A dollar is worth 12 or almost 13 pesos.  Prices in pesos still use the dollar sign though, which first freaked me out when I picked up a room service menu and saw a can of Coke for $35.  I can’t really tell how much we’re spending or how good or bad of a deal it is, because we’re charging a lot of stuff back to the room, and there’s the whole ‘monopoly money’ factor.  Anything less than 20 pesos you get back in change will be in coins, and the paper money is very colorful with pictures of Indians and pyramids.  Also, the Banco De Mexico on the 100 peso bill is in a font that looks like the Iron Maiden logo, which is very metal.

Most days, we have been doing nothing but sitting on the beach, reading or writing.  I have crossed the 50,000 mark on this book, which means it is officially done as far as NaNoWriMo is concerned, but it’s really like 30% done, and that’s just a first draft, so don’t look for a pre-order any time soon.  We also took a long tour where we got to see a tilemaking operation in the countryside and wander through a town that had a big open market.  It was all centered around this one Catholic church that had a Jesus that looked tragic in a Faces of Death sort of way, bewildered and on his knees dragging a cross, bloodied and beaten.  Not exactly the airbrushed and toned Jesus I was used to seeing as a kid in Indiana.

We also went on a long tour yesterday on ATVs, which was a lot of fun.  It was mostly through woods and farmland, and most of the farms here grow coconuts, or raise cattle.  We also got to cruise at top speed across a wavy oceanfront.  ATVs are fun as hell, and it makes me want to buy a couple and tear up my land in Colorado to put in some kind of dirt obstacle course.

And the bad news.  First, there was an earthquake here last Sunday.  There were actually three, a 3.7, a 4.6, and a 4.2; I think we only felt the middle one.  It wasn’t much, a very quick shake that we thought was just someone next door or maybe below us, and we didn’t hear confirmation of it until the next day.

Second, we got sick.  We were both careful about what we ate and drank, and they purify everything here at the hotel, but something got us.  It was a horrible, flu-like thing where I was feverish and totally weak for about 24 hours, and then it went away.  So, Montezuma had his revenge, but a day later, I was for the most part better.

And also, on last Sunday, I was eating a piece of cake, and one of my crowns fell out.  It was my lower rear one, and it and the tooth appeared to have no damage, but there was some sensitivity, and immediately went ballistic.  “Mexican” and “Dentist” go together like “Turkish” and “Prison”.  I got an appointment the next morning with a dentist in Zihua who had an office about as clean and friendly as my last dentist in Astoria (which isn’t saying much, but it wasn’t like the dental scene in that Tom Hanks castaway movie.)  He shot me up with novacaine, cleaned everything, glued the crown back on, told me in broken English that I needed to get it redone as soon as possible (going back next week, in the US…) and then charged me roughly  $40.  No paperwork, no insurance hassles, no waivers to sign, nothing.  It was truly a “you are not in the US anymore” moment.

So here I am, the temperature outside double what it is back home, no rain or gloom.  No turkey yesterday, and the only football on the tube was the no-hands variety with the round ball.  Lots of pictures to upload when I get back on a real internet connection, so stay tuned.