Cruise Week on the Mikey Channel

I'm sorry. I just can't help myself. It's where my mind is. I've always believed that a person has to have something to look forward to, or else life will get depressing. I swear it's true! And now I've got something to look forward to--a week of buffoonery on the high seas is my goal.

Since cruising the Caribbean is on my mind, well, that's what you're gonna get this week. In fact, I've been sending emails to the family loaded up with pictures that will help them get their anticipatory juices flowing. I'm sure that everyone who goes on cruises has a great time, but I can't think of any group that has more fun than my gang. It's kinda like when the buffoons come to Vegas. Everybody has fun in Vegas, but nobody has more fun than we do. Same with going on a cruise with my sisters--we set the fun bar pretty damn high each time we go.

Anyhow, the theme from today's email was Cozumel--my favorite spot in all of the Caribbean. For those of you who've never been, it's a small island off the east coast of the Yucatan peninsula, thirty miles long and ten miles wide. There's one town, San Miguel, where the civilization is, but the rest of the island is nothing but dense jungle and sandy beaches.

I've been there twice now, and my usual routine once I get off of the ship is to hire a taxi to take us down to the south end of the island to Playa de San Francisco. It's less crowded than some of the other beaches on the island, because it's quite a ways from the main cruise ship docks and beach clubs in town. But in my experience, there isn't a bad beach to be found anywhere on the leeward side of the island.



The first time I was there, I made the mistake of taking my niece Stephanie with me to rent scooters and go exploring. We weren't five minutes out of the rental office before she Evel-Knieveled herself across two lanes of traffic, glancing off of the center island planter on the malecon, and right into the grill of an oncoming taxi.

I freaked for a second, thinking that she probably killed herself, but no, she was a gymnast, so she knows how to fall without hurting herself. So aside from few bumps, bruises, and scrapes, she was no worse for the wear, and the scooter only sustained about $200 worth of damage. But after a couple of minutes in the 'pharmacia', she got back on the horse, so to speak, and once we got away from traffic, she did much better and didn't inflict any more damage upon herself.

If you head south out of San Miguel, the road runs along the coast for several miles. On one side of the road, it's nothing but full-on Indiana Jones-style jungle, and on the other side, there are small beach bars and beach clubs carved out every few hundred yards. Each of them feature chaise lounges and palapa-style thatch huts, picnic tables, and a small pier that you can snorkel off of (there's an amazing reef just off the beach for most of the length of the island).



Not only can you get some great deals on ice-cold Coronas and Pacificos, but they also sell that wonderful Mexican Coca Cola--the kind that comes in the old-school glass bottles and it's made with real sugar cane instead of high-fructose corn syrup. And believe me, when it's hot and humid, nothing tastes better than one of those Cokes. Word around the campfire is that they'll even add rum to it, if you ask 'em nice.

But that's when I discovered San Francisco beach. It's a good 15 minute drive away from town, but it's got a beautiful white sand beach and a handful of beach bars and restaurants providing food, drink, and diversion for us. One of my favorite spots has a nice cool fresh-water pool that overlooks the ocean, and it has a swim-up bar attached to it, too.


I'll swim in the ocean all day long, but once you get out, the salt makes you feel all sticky and kinda nasty. So they have showers available, and then jumping in the pool is even more refreshing. And not only that, but they serve pina coladas in hollowed-out pineapples. Just like god intended.

I also got a nice 30-minute massage under a palm tree right there on the beach from a hot bikini-clad Mexican chick for only twenty bucks. Money well spent!

Anyhow, after lounging around at the beach club for about three or four hours, it's time to head back towards civilization. Usually, I'll head back to the ship to change clothes, then join the throngs of tourists hitting up all of the shops along the main drag. Most of the shops feature a bunch of junk I'd never buy, but there are some truly cool trinkets to be found. Amy and I discovered an interesting shop that sold Aztec calendars, some of them as big as six feet in diameter! But it's neat to wander the shops and back alleys just to see what kind of stuff is for sale.

But after our window shopping is done, we always head to the Havana Club for the balance of the day. The Havana Club is a combination restaurant/bar/dance club/cigar store that overlooks the water, and it's one of my favorite places in the entire world to kill an afternoon. Not only do they have killer Cuban food, but they've got an authentic Habano's shop on premises with the biggest damn humidor I've ever seen. And it's full of real Cuban cigars.

So we usually relax by having a few drinks there, then indulging in some lunch, and then I'll usually drop about $500 buying goodies from the humidor to smuggle back home with me.


But much too soon, the day is over, and it's time to head back to the ship. But Cozumel is such a great place--beautiful scenery, friendly locals, lots of fun stuff to do--that every time I leave, I always swear that I'm going back. I think if money were no object, I'd buy a chunk of land there, where the jungle meets the beach, build a cabin, and spend the rest of my days slowly emptying my rum cellar and turning all of those wonderful Cuban cigars into nothing but little piles of ash. A fellow could do a lot worse.

Damn. I can't wait to get back.


Mikey