Las Estacas & Home

For our last weekend, Sylvia invited us to a beautiful park.  We brought all swim and park appropriate wears and drove off on Saturday.  We met up with Alan's aunt, uncle and cousin and they joined our lively group.  We arrived to a large green park with a winding river that pops out from a spring.  Though it looks like a meandering lagoon, it is in fact pulling quite strongly.  So, after some tortas Isa made us and g\checking into our little cabin, we threw on our bathing suits and played around for the rest of the day.  To swim up stream without assistance from flippers or hand flippers was nearly imposible for us.  It was much more relaxing to go to the head of the river and simply allow that current to carry you back to your towels on the grass, then lay and dry off in the sun. Mmmm!  So nice.  We finished the evening with a hefty meal at a small eatery just outside of the park.  I don't know the name of what I ate but it consisted of a long , handmade, tortilla with cheese, cactus, avocado, tomato, and cream.  We were all stuffed by the end and I hit the pillow pretty hard once we got back ot the cabin.

The next day was spent at the isolated pool near to our cabin playing Marco polo and laughing at each other stumble around blind!  More relaxing and chatting, walking and playing, and we checked out and headed out into the city of Cuernavaca for dinner at a wonderful restaurant, but unfortunately we were still rather full from breakfast, so soups and smaller portions.  Still yummy!!

Once we got back home the next few days consisted of saying goodbye to friends and packing up our stuff.  Alan had a fair bit more than me, obviously, and we made sure to carefully pack out Nespresso machine and Valentina bottles...it's the important things :)  By Weds we were ready, woke up early, grabbed some fruit for the road and off to the airport.

My flights went relatively well, apart from double booking my seat and having to move me next to a very heavy set man, the kind who blur the barrier between his seat and mine.  After one trip to the bathroom and my polite "excuse me" in order to reenter my middle seat, he stated in a heavy russian spanish accent "THIS IS THE LAST TIME!  THE LAST!" As if it was my fault that it took more effort than was comfortable for him to get up.  I was pretty stunned as I never really expected someone to be so selfish as to not understand that in flight, we are ALL in uncomfortable situations, and must each do what we can for each other to make the trip more pleasant for those around them.  I went again, later in the flight.  He didn't say anything, but he did get up.  2nd flight was as smooth as it could go.