Gurney's Inn
April 04, 2007

Kiss & Tell


Often numbers as a title imply impending doom like a fated airline flight. But in my case, and that of my friend Nicole, 802 is now our new code word for bliss.

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Our second attempt to fly to Cancun last week was successful, despite a slightly upsetting Sophie's Choice she had to make with her lip gloss at security, and we arrived at our destination, the new Fairmont Mayakoba in Riviera Maya. The world immediately felt like a better place as we strolled through the marble lobby with gurgling fountains, greeted by a handsome man wearing only a loin cloth and face paint. Due to the good graces of my friend with some boyfriend issues, I became the chosen travel mate for this free trip which she had procured by working on a promotional event which included the hotel. She must have done a really good job because they upgraded us to a suite.

The resort is immense, with meandering paths and waterways through miles of mangrove forests, numerous pool areas, an 18 hole golf course, a spa — yeee haaa a spa, and then at the edge of the property the ocean with an infinity pool and seaside restaurant. When our golf cart driver pulled up to our ocean view bungalow, suite 802, we felt we had arrived.

With two huge rooms and better yet two huge bathrooms (we had lots of products) we were thrilled. But then when he escorted us to our roof deck with its own private little pool we felt like royalty. I handed the man my gold American Express card and said, "We'll just stay here until this reaches its limit. Let us know." He seemed a little confused then said, "Ah, ha ha, funny," and left smiling.

There is nothing like the first moment of vacation (well work and vacation, I mean they did have an Internet connection in the room), when you dive into an ocean which is not your own and emerge with the warm sun on your face that you feel a profound gratitude for being alive, and a profound gratitude to Fairmont for a free ocean front suite, and a profound gratitude that your girlfriend has had boy trouble because you know for sure he would be here in your place.

We emerged from the ocean and heard yelling. Seems the bungalow on the beach was occupied by a bunch of men from Teleflora who clearly thought Nicole was a pretty nymph, especially wet, which she is and offered us a drink. We politely declined and went to sit down the beach. Shortly thereafter a waiter appeared with two drinks, Woo Woos they were called. A few sips revealed their wooing power.

We waved thanks then turned to each other, unsure of unasked-for drink etiquette. Is it polite to walk down to say thank you or can you just give a polite wave and suck down the free alcohol? We did try to walk by after the Woo Woos to the flower toting men, but they were inside so figured we were free.

Over the course of the four days we took bacchanalian pleasure swimming in the pool, walking the beach, being served by super nice staff, taking a great Pilates class where I worked my stomach "mooskles" (loved her accent) and sitting at sunset with a band playing "Guantalamaya" as the breeze moved through.

And in those relaxing times, we discussed men and all the vagaries of love and happiness, taking a close look at issues: ours, theirs, and society's, to come a little closer to our own sacred truths as well as the power of singing "Total Eclipse Of The Heart" at the top of your lungs at Karaoke after a break up. But since women do not live by love alone, and we had to find a way to afford to come back, we also discussed careers and a new business project.

On our final night we met a couple who were the epitome of love and partnership and their friend, an event planner, who had figured out a career where he got to stay at these sorts of resorts all the time. Ah inspiration.

As we were getting ready to check out Nicole looked sad saying, "This is going to be the nicest place I've ever stayed in my life."

"Well maybe," I answered. "But we'll always have 802."

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