Posted by: J. Kristén Halley | May 25, 2012


I am writing a travel book titled, “She Just Likest  to Travel” It is the perfect title sense I married someone addicted to travel. 

My honeymoon marked the day I first flew in an airplane.  

I carry such vivid memories of the experience. It was one that has never been repeated by any airline we have traveled on since.  It was based in Cancun, Mx. and called TAESA AIR I recall.

We backed away from the gate and the attendants went into their skit, telling you about the complexeties of buckling.  I actually paid close attention the first time.  I knew where the exits were located and how my seat floats.  I learned all about oxygen masks dropping over your head and still works if it doesn’t inflate.

My attention was focused more and more on those little porthole windows. 

We calmly drove around the tarmak at Philadelphia International Airport for so long, my anticipation wained.  I was taking in the cabin, with the Mexican attendants, and chatter in both English and Spanish. 

In my boredom, I had not noticed we had stopped at take-off place.  And just then, the engines roared but we remained still.  My anticipation returned and again wained whith the number of times they fired up and then turned off.

Finally the engines roar and you begin motion from an idle position at an increasing speed.

I watched as the utility areas of the air port began to fly by as the front wheels left the ground followed closely by the rear wheels and a smooth transit let me know that I had finally left the ground.  I looked out the window quite often at first until we reached our attitude and the Captain’s voice addressed the passengers in a Spanish accent that we had reached our altitude and could move around the cabin.  He announces that the temperature in Cancun had a temperature reading of 77 degrees and expected to reach the upper eighties near ninety. 

He told us we would be nearly thirty-two thousand feet above the Earth’s surface and could expect the ride would be just over five hours.

Then. something different happened.  The stewards began pushing a brand of Mexican beer with no charge. As they would pass you in the aisle they were asking if we needed another beer.

The plane was full of people just like me and Sue.  The average age was in the twenties, and the plane was full of other honeymooners,  As the passengers became less shy, bottles of wine were being passed around.

And this was 1993.  Smoking was just confined to the rear of the plane.  As a smoker, this kept me from having to feel withdraw, I could smoke freely.  And since most of the plane were smokers, we got to be acquainted.

They not only fed me seven beers and passed around bottles of champagne for newlyweds to share, they were festive and skilled at eliciting excitement during the flight and promoting our destination.

in fact, by the time we touched down in Mexico, and I walked down that big ladder they lined up with the front exit and the Sun immediately indicated it was about to get hot. The breeze was steady and you could smell the sea in the air.  Your eyes are drawn to the various species of palm trees blowing all in the same direction.

Immediately, I wasn’t happy that I didn’t understand Spanish. Even though the key people speak it well enough. My considering how nice it would be to bilinguel was augmented by this package we received that contained a page of some common translations.

Like I said, or implied, I was already near drunk when I staggered down the stairs and got into a bus that would shuttle me to the all-inclusive resort we reserved.  The Las Velas was not directly on the beach, but did have a beach on the lagoon.

A map of Cancun shows you that it is essentially a strip of resorts on a strip facing the sea with the lagoon at their backs.  Solid ground encirlced  the water on the way from the airport to the downtown.

I was so excited. There was a concrete fountain shooting water in the air.  It was surrounded by a cobblestone surface that ran to a row of vegetation and palm trees, seperating it from the neighbor hotel/resort.

They were busy setting up for Mexican night.  Logical enough I suppose.  They had tables of merchandise to barter over, a well stocked bar and hung stringers between the Room Units that had dimly lit lighting.

I was waiting on Sue to get us checked in, and on our way to our room to ditch the luggage, but she had to wait in a line. I went inside, and behind the counter of busyemployees was the word “Bienvedidos”

I had to sound it out at first and asked what it meant.  Two of the employees answered together, “Welcome!”

For the rest of the evening, I keep repeating Beinvendidos. Sue was telling to learn new words. but that word just stuck.



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