Life on Isla Mujeres, a small island off the coast of Cancun, is much how I imagine my own personal heaven to be (if there is such a thing, and I am sceptical, but that is entirely besides the point...)
The islander life is fabulously simple, carefree, blissful and utterly and totally relaxing.
A day on Isla Mujeres goes something like this...
Sleep in and / or wake up at the time your body decides it has rested enough and have breakfast.
Swim (on a beach with the whitest of sands and the bluest of water).
Have lunch; steak, chicken or fish tacos, quesadillas, or something else depending on your mood.
Sit in a beach side or poolside lounger and read, watch the world go by or simply rest your eyes.
Swim.
Perhaps change locations - further down the beach or by the pool.
Swim.
Head inside for a siesta, read some more or eat some fruit.
Swim.
Back on the beach or by the pool, order Sol or Coronas, Margaritas, pina coladas, and drink the late afternoon and early evening away.
Shower, dress and head out for dinner.
Wander along the main street trying different bars, listening to music and browsing the stores.
One of only three bars open past midnight is the beach bar, at a hostel. There you can dance until your feet hurt, lie in hammocks listening the the music and the ocean, or sit at the bar and talk to fellow travellers.
The novelty of a beach front, outdoor bar with drinks for $2.50 was not lost on us, so we were patrons of this fine establishment 3 nights out of 5!
Dance. Drink. Dance some more. And then wander home sometime between 2 and 5 am, fall into bed and do it all again the next day.
Having not realised this urge until getting to the island, I was suddenly overcome but a pressing and essential need to drive around the entire circumference of the island in a golf cart (a common mode of transportation).
We paid a reasonable rental amount, and like the winner on a game show, I was handed the keys to my very own buggy.
What a sweet, sweet feeling - driving on the wrong side of the road, putting your pedal to the floor, wind in your hair and cruising along the coast, or past lagoons, forest and the neighbourhoods. Even at its fastest speed, the golf cart was at a slow jog at best, but such minimal speed allows the driver to take in the surroundings all the while not having a vehicular accident and injuring yourself or others.
We drove to the Southern (or Eastern?) most point in Meh-i-co, visited a very endearing turtle farm (did you know there are albino turtles?), took photos at a very colorful and decorative cemetery (not as morbid as it sounds), and drove around as much of the island as possible - which as it turns out, is only a two hour round trip.
Aside from the usual swimming, sunning, eating, drinking and dancing, one of the highlights of this leg of the trip was watching Mexico play Croatia in the World Cup at a restaurant / bar actually IN Mexico.
The atmosphere was electrifying - an endless blowing of horns, cheering, singing and shouting. After a goal free first half, the mood grew more intense but no less loud.
Not long into the second half, Mexico scored their first goal, followed very quickly by a second. Suddenly, there we were, with locals and tourists alike shouting "MEH-I-CO, MEH-I-CO', banging on tables, yelling, cheering and applauding, and accepting free shots of tequila from the restaurant owner who was the epitome of happiness.
A goal to Croatia, and then a third goal for Mexico in the 80-something minute, resulted in a 3-1 win and a very happy island. It was nice to be Mexican for an afternoon!
As they say, all good things must come to an end and on our 6th day, we sadly consumed our last tacos, packed our bags, took the ferry and left our island.
Highlights and lowlights include giving a stellar performance on stage on the beach at our hotel, late night swimming (okay fine, it may have been skinny dipping!), getting so very sunburnt on our second day that sitting became a painful task (followed by the dreaded sunburn itch) but ultimately leaving the island tanned, happy and with memories to last a lifetime! Oh, and our pet iguanas who can be found by your hotel pool, on rock faces, and in gardens all over the island.
Gracias Mexico, you and I will be amigos for life ;)
There was much discussion about what to name this blog.
Cassie and Kristie: The World Tour?
CK Debauchery?
Many (very good) suggestions were made but in the end, we decided on the three things we clearly do best:
Eat. Drink (lots). Love.
Eat, because meal times and trying new restaurants across different cities and towns is by far one of the luxuries of life (no cooking, no cleaning, no thought required).
Drink Lots, because let's face it, it is inevitable. So much so that we have imposed a new rule: 'Less than seven drinks doesn't count'. Also, for the majority of the time, it often results in no thought required, and
Love, because we are two peas in a pod. We both love travel, adventure, new sights, sounds, tastes and experiences (and flirting with boys!).
Now that I have provided some background information about eatdrinklotslove, let's get started shall we?
Miss Cassandra Mitchell arrived on June 1, marking the end of almost a year of planning and the beginning of our adventure. After some minimal sightseeing around Kitsilano and Vancouver, our first real stop was Whistler.
Having not been there before because I had heard the rumours about the city being invaded by 18 year old, fresh out of high school Australian's, I had managed to avoid said destination. But, it turned out to be a very pleasant surprise. The ski season was over and it wasn't as overpopulated and tourist-y as expected. In fact, the sun shone endlessly, our hotel went above and beyond, renting us a Beta-fish (called Beau) to play tunes to and accompany us while we drank wine on our balcony overlooking the mountains, and lending us bikes to cycle around the beautiful lakes and mountains.
We ate delicious Mexican food and drank margaritas, drank Canadian Club, just drank in general (hence the drinklots portion of our blog) replayed scenes of 'The Sound of Music' by cycling beneath the mountains, danced (in cages), and lay on the grass in the sun.
Back in Vancouver, for Cassie's first, and my last weekend, we went out in true style.
We attended a craft beer festival where we basked in the sun (drinking beer obviously), dancing (in broad daylight) and being merry.
The following day was the much anticipated Kegger party at my glorious heritage house. Managing to keep all guests outdoors, amusing them with tunes, beer pong, and general chit chat, it was a great success with nothing being spilled, broken or stained (whoever said Sabrina and I weren't responsible?) Even after moving the party inside because one neighbour threatened to call the police, we still managed to keep the vibe alive with spin the bottle, limbo, a strobe light and dancing.
Come Monday, it was time for us to board another Greyhound bus en route to Kelowna in the Okanagan, or better yet, wine Country.
Our first night started with the innocent (and clearly delusional) intention of a nice dinner, a night cap, and bed. Hours and many drinks, dancing and on my part, a visit to the local strip club later, I stumbled home.
The next day, feeling worse for wear, and with a 5 hour winery tour pending, I began to question whether I would survive. Whether this would be the day that I died...
Gladly not. We put on our big girl pants, braved the motion sickness of the van, the general lacklustre feeling that a hangover induces, and boarded that minivan for what turned out the be the most glorious afternoon.
We visited five wineries, ranging from the very grand with estate gardens, restaurants, artwork and galleries, to the smaller, more intimate and individual. There were tastings a plenty and the evening culminated in a sunset dinner on the patio of a gorgeous winery.
The next day, surprisingly still alive, was spent by the hotel pool enjoying what was a warm day in Canada (who knew such a thing was possible?)
Bright and early the following day (it was an 8am departure time), we boarded our new bestie, the Greyhound bus, and headed into the Canadian Rockies, to Banff.
I have learned long ago that it is practically impossible to accurately describe something to someone who has never seen it, which is why someone invented uploading photos. See below.
Banff was spent eating the most delicious mushroom ravioli in (quite possibly) all of North America, seeing the ever-beautiful Tahlia Jones, who took us to the Gondola to sit atop a mountain, take breathtaking photos and have lunch with a view, the hot pools, and then out for World Cup beers followed by a delicious Greek dinner.
Shortly following Banff was Louise. Lake Louise. The most beautiful lake I have ever seen. The clearest blue of waters, the greenest of pine forest, and the snow capped mountains in the distance.
We walked around the lake, sat in the (very fancy) Fairmont hotel drinking cocktails, and basking in the glory of the sights. Snowmen were made, some with penises, and wildlife was seen.
Our lodge (Deer Lodge) was the perfect log cabin. There was a fireplace, sitting rooms with vintage furniture, but above all else, a rooftop hot tub overlooking the mountains which was delightfully scenic and equally hot (a good way to detox after countless days drinking).
We left Lake Louise on a (supposedly) fancier bus than the Greyhound called the Brewster, and arrived in Jasper.
Initially, with only a train station to be seen and not much else, we thought that perhaps we had made a crucial travel mistake. Had we booked two nights in a ghost town? What an earth would we do for two nights?
After a delicious Cantonese dinner and drinks at the Jasper Brewery, we retired for the night with plans to cycle to the lakes in Jasper National Park.
Upon getting to the bike rental establishment and being told there were no (girly) bikes with baskets for our handbags we mounted mountain bikes, took our map and embarked on the most incredible ride of our lives.
Our first sighting was a cow elk (part reindeer, part horse), before not one, not two, not three, but five pristine lakes, set beneath the stunning Canadian Rockies.
Anyone who knows me would know that I prefer a more relaxing holiday - cocktails by a pool in Thailand, Bali, or Las Vegas, sunset dinners in Maui, but on this trip I surprised myself. I went mountain bike riding. Hard core. The ride was bumpy, the threat of bears or cow elks with young who would charge and trample imminent, and yet still we took the road less travelled and got our adventure on. And. It. Was. Freakin'. Cool.
I may get into this outdoorsy thing after all.
We have watched some World Cup games along the way, including cheering on Australia in a very noble and well played match against the Netherlands. We have also learnt that it is important to balance the more strenuous activities, like 7.0 km walks and 4.5 hour mountain bike rides with more lady-of-leisure type activities such as long lunches and dinners, and sleep ins.
Against all odds, Cassie has survived the first 18 days. It was touch and go for awhile there.
In Vancouver, a large and frightful seagull (on steroids) stole a pedestrian's weaner and then flew straight for her face... while she was cycling along the seawall at a reasonable speed. Had she not gracefully ducked to avoid the collision, all the while maintaining her course, it could have been a disaster.
In Whistler, there was a scenario in which she could have lost her balanvce and been thrown from a rock, landing in the rapids and been swept away.
There have been other bird attacks, along with bear sightings, but so far we have all our appendages and no one has been injured.
We end our first 20 days of the world tour, and the Canadian leg of our trip in Calgary. It may not be the Canadian Rockies, or have beer festivals, kegger parties and the seawall that Vancouver has to offer, but it is a place with one of my most favourite things - a good friend (Miss Tahlia Jones) and great company.
Next stop... Mexico.
