Like a typical geeky overachiever, I had a very grandiose plans for blogging/vlogging on my Mayan Riviera trip. I was psyched. I packed all my gear and cables and set off into the sun.
But like the cruel fate of reality, the Mayan gods were against me from the get go. They toyed with my emotions, liquored me up, and booted me off the ledge into a giant sink hole of doom. I know. Intense.
Within 30 seconds of arriving at the ultra modern, lo-tech resort hotel, I encountered my first major hurdle.
Me: do you have wifi?
Reception dude: Que?
Me: Internet?
Reception: No.
Me: No??? *eyeballs pop out of my head*
Reception: Si.
Me: Si? *eyeballs return to head* You have internet? Computers?
Recption: Only in one place.
Me: Donde??
Reception: Down in the bottom of stairs derecha uhh… there you will find computers… you need to pay 7 USD for 30 minutes
Me: zoink.
Reception: Que?
This situation was less than ideal as the lobby was a 15 min walk from my room and carrying that amount of gear in the ridiculous, sticky, muggy heat was beyond lame. Plus, I really didn’t want to spend my holiday in the hotel’s business centre.
So after that fail, I just let go of my vacation blogging plans and headed to the beach with Wired and my iPod. Then I watched Sir Digby Chicken Caeser with my new friend.
