October 2020. Barely a few weeks after my return from Africa, the Rogue decided to quit his job and take a leap of faith and accept my invitation to meet me in Mexico (from severe lockdown in Scotland). A huge part of my journey began here!
Previous post: https://secondchapternomad.blog/2023/03/21/quarantine-chronicles-part-9-casa-de-coco-from-africa-to-mexico/
https://www.expedia.com/shop/second-chapter-nomad/glam-fun-mexico (small commission received)
MEET ME IN MEXICO
I jumped on another airplane, bound for Mexico City, where I spent the night in a desolate airport hotel, and awoke to meeting the Rogue after over six months! Hopped on a flight together to Cancun, and on to the Hard Rock Hotel (fitting for a singer/musician).
HARD ROCK HOTEL FUN IN THE SUN
A few days of sun, blue skies, turquoise water, beach volleyball (where I was humbled to find I was no longer the “Volleyball Queen” of my 20s), pool, all inclusive food and drinks, new friends poolside or in the hot tub. Bliss. Funny, the Rogue arranged a beach massage and dessert as early birthday present, not knowing that was the only chance!
HELLO HURRICANE DELTA! EVACUATION
Cut to the Rogue and I drinking Bloody Marys with new friends South African footballer Brad, English chaps Gary and Andy. Suddenly the server says “No more alcohol.” Say what? It’s all inclusive! A paper notice arrives announcing that we are all to be evacuated as Hurricane Delta is barreling right for us.
We look at the blue skies in disbelief, and return to our rooms as instructed to pack and deposit our luggage in the lobby, bringing only a “mask and a pillow” on the buses which would take us to a “refugio” or hurricane shelter. The wind started to pick up as everyone packed on the buses.
The ride was over an hour down the coast, with cars lining up down the road at the gas stations. Still disbelief. Sky starting to look weird, and palm trees blowing more violently.
HURRICANE SHELTER
We get to the “refugio” (in actuality another Hard Rock hotel with a hurricane proof conference center with no windows). There are four gigantic rooms with 300 pool loungers in each, with hotel bedding (which we were to add our pillow). This means 1200 masked hotel guests plus all the staff working dutifully to attend to us.
For the next 48 hours, there were make-shift food buffets, and Hard Rock music (sometimes live) non-stop which created its own kind of hurricane hell.
Alcohol was banned per emergency government orders (imagine all the withdrawals and hangovers coming straight from an all-inclusive!). We were referred to as “Refugees” (a little extreme). They did their best to entertain and distract us to the increasing natural disaster outside. Those of us with working phones were receiving updates from back home. My parents for one were watching the dreaded eye of the storm heading directly for us.
EYE OF THE STORM, SLEEPLESS NIGHT
By night (not that we could tell from the concrete bunker) eerie sounds were emanating from outside. I’ve never been in a hurricane ever, much less one that was initially classified as a Category 5. Beyond “wind” it was a roaring, moaning, with banging of building materials and creaking of trees. There would be no sleep for me.
We were all ordered to our “beds” (in the 300 person room at the height of Covid). Some lucky ones snored through the night (as the Rogue said, a “symphony of snores”). Phones would go off. Rogue was disconcerted when I told him I was more concerned about the storm surge I’ve heard about, and it would be “every man for himself” if we had to run out with 300 people in a flood. He miraculously fell asleep and I lay there All Night as the hurricane hit. By morning, Rogue awoke and couldn’t believe he’d missed it – or that we were all still there.
Apparently it had hit landfall and decreased to a Category 2 and miraculously didn’t cause as much damage (and most importantly loss of life) as expected. A huge shout out to the workers who left their own families and homes to attend to us travelers.
TRAPPED IN PARADISE
National news stories had hit the U.S., “Trapped in Paradise!”
Now that we’d all survived, we were ready to get back to our hotel. Not so fast. There was still a lot of damage, and impassable roads. There was a very loud groan when we were told we would be staying yet another night (in those same clothes, unbathed, etc., though I must confess to having brought a small bag… c’mon… a mask only??).
So more cafeteria style buffets, more Hard Rock music. More friendships made. A long day of doing nothing much in the bunker. That night, our bedraggled crew found out it was my birthday the next day. Andy discovered a secret room where some lucky folks had champagne! He smuggled us all a glass and toasted to a birthday I’ll never forget.
MY BIRTHDAY – IN A HURRICANE SHELTER!
By the next morning – indeed my actual birthday – we learned it would take all day to get 1200 people sorted onto buses with luggage, etc. No way. Somehow the Rogue and I found a renegade taxi and forked over cash for our escape. Busted out on my birthday, only to discover that nowhere was open, including our hotel.
Bubba Gumps to the rescue! They were not yet open either, but we got dropped off, luggage and all, and I plead my case about my birthday. They let us in, served a delicious Bloody Mary, food, and eventually came up with a birthday cake, candles and a song! It was one of the best birthdays ever.
We stayed there until the Hard Rock was safely open. We were greeted by all the staff cheering the returning guests, with a welcome drink, and a Kiss impersonating band.
The rest of the two weeks with the Rogue was a blur of food, drink, friends, and sun.
POST HURRICANE BACK AT THE HARD ROCK
I went into town one night to a nightclub, and on a boat to Playa Del Carmen (where I was the only volunteer to “fly” behind the boat in a bizarre, very difficult to operate contraption; alas cannot find a single photo evidence).
BACK TO CALIFORNIA
At the end of this required 14 days in Mexico (the Covid loophole to get a U.K. citizen into America) the Rogue and I flew to L.A. Starting this journey together with a hurricane was definitely a metaphor for this Second Chapter Nomad adventure.
Next post: https://secondchapternomad.blog/2023/05/05/casa-de-coco-october-2020-threes-company/
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