Author: Rudy

He stretches out the north over the void and hangs the earth on nothing. Job 26:7

I woke up early. About 5 o’clock. I’m in a very comfortable king-size bed in an airport hotel in Cancun. I just lay there, thinking about the last couple of months. It’s been a very good winter. The only thing wrong is that it’s STILL WINTER!

At eight o’clock I went down to the restaurant. Dave and MaryLou were already seated at a table, drinking orange juice and coffee. I ordered breakfast. And just like that, the Driedgers were off — catching the 9 o’clock shuttle to the airport. We said goodbye and I went up to my room.

I had 3 or 4 hours to kill. I went for a little walk. I read the news on my computer. A second 737 Boeing has crashed. Nope, I’m scheduled to fly home on an Airbus. I got a text from Dave: all was good. They’d cruised through check-in and customs and were about to board their flight — on time. Bon Voyage!

I still wasn’t so sure that my flight would be on time, and I really didn’t relish the idea of standing in a long line at the check-in dragging my overloaded heavy golf bag around. I caught the one o’clock shuttle — and road to the airport with the same Avianca airline crew. When I got there I was surprised that there really was no line-up at the check-in. I WAS surprised when the agent told me that without that little customs paper I had filled out on the flight in. I didn’t recall getting it back when I arrived here on January 1. What now? The agent directed me to the ‘immigration’ booth where they would make me a new paper. For a fee. In Mexican pesos only. Oh oh. Here I thought I was so smart, getting rid of all my pesos, and only $30 US dollars in my wallet. I argued my case for a while, but that only stood to make me late for my flight. I left by big bag leaning against the wall and hurried off to find an ATM. I ended up getting $30 US worth of pesos from a porter who was only too happy to make the deal. Back to immigration. The girl at the desk is in no hurry to help me now. She takes her time leafing through a pile of papers, counting to herself. Finally I get my important paper, fill in all the proper blanks, get the girl to stamp it, and I head back to the check-in counter.

I was a bit worried that my golf bag would be over the weight limit, but the agent just tagged it and sent me to the oversized bag drop. Then through customs and into the boarding lounge.

I didn’t have to wait very long. I watched the Transat jet pull up to the terminal. The bags came off, then our bags went on. Then I joined a bunch of Winnipegers, and even a few Steinbachers, in the queue to get on the plane. I don’t really ‘get’ why people board a non-stop flight from paradise to the frozen north wearing shorts and flip-flops — I sure hope whoever is there to greet them at the other end is duly impressed and has proper clothing and footwear for them for the ride home.

Our flight left early. And it landed early. Cool! I waited patiently for my golf bag to appear at the over-sized baggage door. When it finally showed up it had clearly been opened. It was all twisted and lopsided and didn’t roll properly. Oh well, what could I do about it now. (I’m quite sure it was a customs inspection — my neatly folded golf shirts were now bunched up and the golf bag zippers were all open, but I don’t think anything was missing.)

I was pulling my bag through the door and looking down at my phone, texting Alex that I was through customs and she should drive the car up to the… and when I looked up, there were Tim and Alex and Max, waiting to meet me! Max was holding a huge pink sign: Welcome Home, Opa! — little balloons taped all over it and a drawing of Opa and a golf club and ball. Max was almost as excited to see me as I was him! Marvellous!

We made a pit-stop at the drive-thru at McDonald’s on the way home — I hadn’t eaten since breakfast (my lunch money went instead for that little Mexican customs paper!). And then I was home! On the counter was some coffee, bread, cheese, sandwich meat, and cookies, courtesy of Alex. And several neatly stacked piles of mail and flyers.

So that’s it for another online trip journal! It’s usually fun to do this, but I’m also happy to be able to NOT do this for a while. So, unless the snow and cold last longer than I can, I’ll leave you to read something more interesting for a while. And maybe I’ll see you on the golf course real soon. Here’s hoping!

But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. Romans 8:25

It’s “moving” day. Today we take a four-and-a-half hour bus ride from Merida to Cancun. When I got downstairs this morning MaryLou was sitting on the couch with her computer, surrounded by luggage. Two huge golf travel bags took up prime space in the middle of the floor. I made one last pot of drip coffee and ate a bit of yogurt. I took out the garbage. The three of us sat around for a while, waiting. Was it too early to book our Ubers? According to Dave’s googling, there was a breakfast place near the bus station at Altavista. We could get our rides to the bus station, and then one of us could watch the bags while the others went for breakfast. With all our big heavy bags we would need two taxis, maybe even three. At around 8 o’clock Dave and I each ordered an Uber.

We’ve almost always booked our taxi to pick us up at the front gate, so we need to walk for about a kilometre to meet our driver. We do that because often the price is a bit cheaper, but mostly because it is a hassle for Uber drivers to get through the high security at our front gate, and then it can be a bit tricky to find our apartment. The route that google maps suggests inside our country club is a long way around even though there is a shorter more direct route. And our house is at a corner with a hard-to-find house number. So it’s faster for us to just walk to the gate. But this morning, with all our luggage, that was not an option.

“My” Uber car arrived first. I loaded my clubs into the back seat and put the Driedgers big suitcase in the trunk. And off we were. I was at the bus station by 8:30, an hour before our departure time. I waited for the Driedgers to join me. And waited. They were supposed to be right behind me. Nine o’clock. Still waiting. Finally, at 9:10, they pulled up on the parking lot. After circling around in the country club for 10 minutes, not able to find our apartment, their first Uber had abruptly cancelled and left. When the second Uber showed up and started doing the same thing, Dave started running around, trying to chase the car down, which he finally managed to do. Of course the golf bag didn’t fit in the small car’s trunk, so Dave had to sit in the back seat with that big bag over his lap for the ride to the bus station. By the time they arrived they were visibly frazzled. What an exercise in frustration! And now there was no time for a nice morning coffee. Dave ran across the street to the Oxxo convenience store and came back with a couple of Kitkats and a small package with four mini-donuts. So much for our breakfast.

The bus ride was uneventful. Long. Air-conditioned. Loud Spanish movies playing on the TV. The nice elderly Spanish lady sitting beside me kept ‘helping’ me fill in the sudoku puzzles I was working on.

At 2:30 we arrived at the bus station in downtown Cancun. We picked up our bags and dragged them into the main hall. I soon found the booth where I could buy bus tickets to the Cancun airport. It was leaving in 10 minutes. Great. Not a long wait — certainly not long enough for me to get in line at the little Subway booth and order a “Milanesa de Pollo” sub sandwich! No breakfast, no lunch!

The bus down to the airport was a half-hour ride. On the way there I called the Courtyard hotel where Dave had booked a couple of rooms for us for tonight and asked where at the airport we might find the free hotel shuttle. Terminal 3, gate 26, I was told. I asked how often the bus comes around and was told the wait would be between 5 and 30 minutes. Great! I was hoping for five!

Our bus stopped at Terminal 4 first. Then Terminal 2. Finally, with only the Driedgers and me still on the bus, we got to Terminal 3. We got our bags and hurried to gate 26. Was the big white shuttle bus parked in stall 26 ours? There were rows and rows of shuttle buses and taxis and lots of tourists mulling around on the big parking lot. I checked with one of the porters. Nope, not this bus. But soon — 10 or 15 minutes.

When our shuttle still hadn’t arrived after 20 minutes, we asked again. Yes, it is coming — 10 minutes. That continued for more than an hour. At one point Dave called the hotel, just to confirm that the bus was coming. Yes, it will be there in 10 minutes.

Eventually our shuttle DID come. We piled our massive bags on top of the small black leather luggage neatly stacked in the back of the van and joined a nattily dressed flight crew for the short ride to the Courtyard hotel. Check-in was quick and painless. We hauled our gear up to our rooms and half-an-hour later we were sitting at a table on the restaurant patio, next to the outdoor pool, ordering our breakfast/lunch/supper. The air was lovely — not as hot as Merida, with an ocean breeze under a cloudy sky. Our dinners were lovely too, albeit quite a bit more expensive than what we’ve become accustomed to in Merida. Well, this IS an airport hotel in a resort town. And we’ve had a long day. Worth it.

After dinner the Driedgers enjoyed some time in the outdoor hot tub. I went up to my room and flicked through the channels on the TV. Dave came by for a beer at around 8:30 but didn’t stay long — he was tired and it was time for bed. We’ll meet for breakfast tomorrow morning. The Driedgers’ flight is scheduled to leave before noon; mine four hours later. Well, that’s what we are HOPING will happen. When travelling, it’s better to be flexible and exercise patience!

But understand this, that in the last days there will come times of difficulty. 2 Timothy 3:1

Sunday. Our last day here in Merida. Our last day in the La Ceiba Country Club. Our last day to golf before Spring arrives in Manitoba. Our last.

Sometimes good movies don’t have a happy ending. So it is with our golf story here. Just because there were more bad shots on the last day than on the first (or maybe on ANY other day!) doesn’t mean it was as a bad move here.

We woke up, had coffee, and got our golf shoes on. Dave really wanted to get out on the links early this morning. We had a quick bite to eat, got our frozen water bottles out of the freezer, and hurried out to the golf course. Oh no! A big group of guys and their caddies were lined up at the first tee. Our friendly starter saw the look on our faces and suggested we go to the tenth tee and play the back nine first. Good deal.

I had quite a few balls in my golf bag — not all of them very good balls, but more than I would lose today. So today I didn’t spend a lot of time looking for balls that rolled off the fairway. Still, to have my first THREE shots go into the bush was a bit excessive. Not a very good start to our final game of the winter.

I’d like to say that things got better after that, but that’s not entirely true. I followed that up with some good shots, but even more bad shots.

When we got back to the first tee it looked to be all clear ahead. But we caught up to a FIVESOME on the second hole, and the marshall sitting at between hole 2 and 3 encouraged us to play number three, then stop for breakfast and come back and finish later. We saw all the carts lined up on the next couple of holes and followed his advice.

Back at the house we cooled off a bit. The very high humidity out there this morning was actually more uncomfortable than the hot sun at midday. We watched a bit of Face the Nation on TV. We waited until we were nicely cooled (and dried) off. Then Dave went out to look at what holes four and five looked like. All clear. Let’s get out there.

Most of my drives were quite a bit better after the break, so that was somewhat encouraging. When we got to the ninth hole Dave sent MaryLou a text to come and join us at the clubhouse for lunch.

Lots of golfers sitting around the tables inside the restaurant. We too opted for an inside table today — it was pretty hot out there. I ordered my last order of ceviche from the clubhouse restaurant. I’ll miss our clubhouse lunches.

We took our golf bags home and dropped off our pull-carts at the caddy shack. I showered and through in one last load of laundry. I had just put that load into the dryer when Dave announced that they were out the door, getting an Uber to go see a movie. I hurried down to join them.

We went to the City Centre Mall, not too far from our place. Movie tickets are about four dollars, and the medium coke to go with the ticket was another four. Good deals, but hardly worth it today. The movie Dave had selected, “Cold Pursuit”, a Liam Neesom film that proved all the Liam Neesom stereotypes true, was terrible. But the seats were great, the theatre was air conditioned, and the coke was refreshing.

After the movie we went back to the Querreke restaurant, right there in the mall, for our last Merida supper. Curried chicken pasta for me, and a pizza for the Driedgers. Delicious.

When we got home from the movie I took my laundry out of the dryer and started folding and packing it into my golf bag. I will come home with my backpack and the golf bag. That means my golf bag is dangerously close to being over the weight limit. We’ll see how that goes over at the airport on Tuesday. I also had to write a review for Airbnb in regards to our apartment and our experience here — and I sent a goodbye text message to Mario, our host, and another to Pepe, our friendly neighbour.

MaryLou was also packing, but we all interrupted our preparations to sit down and watch another episode of the second season of Mrs Maisel. Great.

I stayed downstairs for an hour and a half after the Driedgers went up to bed. I wanted to finish up the partial bottle of red wine and maybe watch a rerun of Fareed on CNN. I finally shut everything down and went upstairs to write my journal and then call it a night. Got to get up early tomorrow to get a cab to the bus station for our 9:30 bus ride to Cancun. I’ll see you tomorrow.