Alex and I are back, intact, from Mexico. I am delighted to report that not only did we manage to avoid kidnapping, robbery, extortion, drug-related violence and random shootings in nightclubs, but we had a wonderful time and the little one was immaculately behaved (with the exception of the flight home, of which more anon).
We travelled out with our friend Anne-Claire and her baby Liam, and the journey to Isla Mujeres was far easier than I'd anticipated. The only hitch was an ill-timed nappy explosion shortly before boarding the plane in D.C. (which necessitated a full body wash in the sink in the disabled loo), plus a further 5 minute delay whilst I struggled to force the buggy into the stroller bag. Now I understand why they call families with young children first. Not so that we actually board first, but so we have some remote chance of making it aboard before the plane departs.
Alex had his own seat and amused himself en route by eating his passport, listening to the latest chart music and passing out after consuming one too many gin and tonics.
Upon arrival at Cancun airport, we caught a shuttle bus to the port. We took a catamaran across from Puerto Juarez to Isla Mujeres, a 25 minute journey which gave us just time to feed the babies their (liquid) tea. And once we arrived on Isla, it was a very short taxi ride to our condos, where we met our friend Marisa and her baby Shabd Prem.
The complex was lovely - 50m from our room to the pool, 75m to the restaurant and 100m to the beach.
It didn't take Alex long to adapt to his new environment. Once he had donned his shades and his sunhat he was ready to party and we headed straight for the beach. After a spot of paddling, Alex thought he'd like to try his hand at something more adventurous and jumped on a jet-ski, taking it for a quick spin around the bay before returning home for a well-deserved soak in his private spa bath.
Life continued at this hectic pace for the next four days. What with scuba-diving, relaxing at the beach, sampling the local cuisine, charming the senoritas, shopping for souvenirs (for which Alex had the same degree of enthusiasm as his father, as can be seen from his expression) and hanging out with his buddies, the time just flew by and it was soon time to return home.
I am tempted to finish the post here as everything had gone absolutely swimmingly until this point. Unfortunately, the journey home was slightly more stressful than the flight out. Things started to unravel when at 12 noon, our target departure time, one of us was still in the shower, one of us was searching for her lost wallet and the third couldn't find any clothes in which to dress her baby. None of us had finished packing and all three babies were crying. It was like a scene from 'The Hangover'. We eventually made it out of the condo, caught the ferry back to the mainland and, much to our surprise, managed to check in at the airport without losing any babies or baggage in good time for our 6.25pm departure.
Once aboard, Marisa and I were delighted to discover we had a spare seat between us, so we settled down for the flight, the youngsters snuggled into our arms as we waited for them to be gradually lulled to sleep by the gentle motion of the plane. And then, just before take-off, the last people boarded and one poor girl found herself sitting in between us. We assured her that our babies were very good travellers and she would hardly notice them. She smiled nervously. And with good reason. Ten minutes later, the unfortunate young lady found herself sandwiched between two screaming infants with no means of escape. She took the only action available to her in the circumstances: stuck her headphones in, turned up her i-Pod to maximum volume, put her head on the tray table and hid under a pillow. (I wish I had had the same option). Three hours later, Alex finally quietened down just as we were coming in to land in Washington, and was the model of peace and tranquility once I'd strapped him in to his stroller and sedated him with half a bottle of tequila. Ahhhh.