There are many wonderful things about being divorced, most of which are the subjects of prior posts, but having a social life has to be one of the top three, even ranking above not being treated like a mildly retarded houseboy.
This came to the fore when my best friend announced his impending nuptials. I was fortunate that his bachelor weekend took place on one of my kid free weekends, although my sweetie was not exactly enamoured of eagerness to attend. This of course, was only the prelude to a beach wedding in Mexico. My first reaction to the location was one of mildly stunned disbelief because as a graduate of the same sustainability focused business school as the Bride and Groom I couldn’t help but comment on the huge carbon footprint generated by each attendee. Despite the fact that the resort espoused environmentally friendly values, each of us would have to plant a veritable forest as a carbon offset. Much better for them to get married in a location convenient to the greatest number of guests and put some of the money saved into funding the free bar at the reception. Indeed, for the amount I spent on airfare and accommodation I could have been as drunk as a touring Australian rugby team for a month and still have had enough cash left over to pay for a liver transplant.
Of the ten hour trip, including the three hour layover at LAX I will say naught, leaving your imagination to fill in the blanks. We arrived at 11 p.m. local time and turned in as quickly as possible as the rain beat against the windows. It rained for the next 48 hours without a break longer than five minutes as we seemed to have timed our arrival to coincide with a tropical storm. Not to worry, as we were on the upper floor of the building. Little did we suspect that this was, in fact, the shallow end. We awoke on the second morning to find a substantial pool of water on the tiles and resorted to using beach towels to dry the floor. The mat at the end of the bed was a thick bathroom mat and when I hung it over the edge of the shower, water poured out of it like it was a bucket. Not a good sign, but seeing as the design of the room relied on natural ventilation, there was no way of stopping the deluge, so we just dealt with it and turned on the fan in the vain hope of inducing some evaporation.
This wasn’t the room’s only shortcoming. Apparently Mexican plumbing is unable to cope with paper, hence the lidded container in the bathroom about which I shall say no more, except to point out that my disquiet at this is that someone had to empty it every day, a job I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Not to go all Sex Pistols on you, but some of the living conditions I saw on the trip really brought home to me how easy most of us have it. Squalor isn’t the word, and it made me wonder just how people manage to keep their sanity whilst living under such conditions. Take Valladolid for example. The center of the city is full of wonderful colonial era buildings, one of which housed the hotel at which we ate lunch, but in order to get there, we had to pass through what I can only describe as being an area just above the level of a Favella, yet there we were in our air conditioned bus heading for one of the best meals we will ever have.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch the foul weather abated in time for the wedding, almost as if someone had made a human sacrifice to the sun. I did find it rather strange to see the Groom standing in front of the Gazebo on the beach wearing a very tasteful tie and what I can only assume was his acquittal suit, yet barefoot. the Bride looked as stunning as only a bride can, of course and the service was mercifully short. it seemed a heck of a long way to travel for such a short ceremony, but I guess there’s no need to drag it out any longer than necessary.
Of course the evening ended with much eating and drinking. Especially the drinking. We left early as it was clear that the party would consist of nothing but dancing, and to coin a phrase, “Charlie don’t surf”.
Side trips to the truly stunning and awe inspiring runs at Chichen Itza and Tulum as well as a stop at an incredible Cenote were highlights of the trip, as was my being able to upgrade to first class on the thankfully direct flight home. I had a horror show of a final day and was afraid I’d miss my flight, so the copious amounts of Vodka available made the trip home a darn sight more relaxing than it would have been had I been in Coach.
There were many lowlights, of which I won’t speak here, but will keep them for a later post, as they brought up a lot of emotions that I’d rather not expand upon right now.
It was funny to be present at a wedding for two people who obviously love each other deeply and are perfect for each other from the perspective of someone who found himself in a domestic arrangement devoid of almost all intimacy, respect or understanding. I found my self both jealous ( not in a bad way) and happy for my friends as they are both truly wonderful people who will no doubt enjoy a long, happy,fulfilling and supportive marriage. I couldn’t help but think “So that’s what it looks like”.