I didn't think I'd have any interest in the swimming, having swum quite a bit on vacation, but the day was very long and very hot, and the pool was just too inviting to pass up. I expected the water to be a little chilly, but the Boston area evidently had a heat wave while I was away, and the water was almost the same temperature as the ocean at Playa del Carmen.

I did laps, and splashed water on Skottie's head as he dropped baseballs into the pool for me to throw for him. I dove for the kids' diving rings and tried out the new float that Mom bought for Heather (it leaves all of you in the water, with just your head and feet sticking out...fabulous!). When I almost ended up unconscious on the float, I realized that staying up all night to catch a plane might sound good in theory, but in actuality, it's damned tiring.

I worried this morning that the guy from Reception wouldn't meet me, and I'd be stuck without a ride to the airport. At 4:20am exactly, I lugged my bags to the driveway, and stood there looking for someone who appeared to be employed by the hotel. Nobody was waiting for me, but after 5 minutes, someone I had never met came out of a building behind Reception and pulled a receipt out of his pocket. He didn't speak much English, and I don't speak much Spanish, so he just asked my name, I told him, and we set out on the highway in a beat-up old truck.

I got to the airport, where I felt daunted by the line that had already formed, until I saw that the long line was for Dallas/Fort Worth, and the one for Miami was free and clear. I scrambled into that line and was called up to the desk without having to have my bag searched right there (the safety checks are random in Mexico...when you arrive at the Cancun airport, you have to press a button, which lights up either a red or green signal. Red, you have your bags checked. Green, you pass through. I called it the Terrorist-o-Meter). I gave my passport and itinerary to the man behind the counter, and he asked for my tourist card (which you fill out on the airplane coming into the country). I flipped through my passport, where I had stored it...and of course, it wasn't there. I was told I had to go to Immigration to get this settled, and then I could cut in line to retrieve my boarding passes.

I dutifully walked over to Immigration, where I found a dark, locked, unoccupied office. I went to one of the security guards and asked when Immigration would open. He looked at his watch and said, "I think ten minutes?" Since it was 5:30, I thought it an odd time to open, but sure enough, at 5:40am, someone from Immigration showed up, unlocked the office, and waved me in.

He gave me a single piece of paper (with no carbon copy or anything) upon which I had to write my name, address, and passport number. I tried to hand it to him, but he told me that I had to give it to the cashier. I did so, and he stapled it to my boarding pass.

I guess that was enough to make me secure to fly, because I was let through all the stops with no problem. I met up with Renee and Maya at my gate (Renee had the same initial flight, with a different connecting flight to North Carolina, and Maya's plane left an hour later than ours). We chatted for a bit, and I gave Maya a hug goodbye.

I boarded the plane and read the latest Laurell K. Hamilton book (porn, porn, porn, sort-of-plot, porn, porn, the end). The flight was short, and I caught up with Renee at customs, where she let me cut in line with her.

After we got through the security check, I hugged Renee goodbye (which I think made three hugs goodbye I gave Renee), and grabbed my suitcase.

The second flight was uneventful. I finally made some playlists for my iPod (one for running, one for work, one for writing) and listened to them as I read through some of my unfinished plays. Everyone else on the plane seemed to be watching Hitch. From all the laughs it got, I'm surprised it didn't do better at the box office, but the passengers might have all been as punchy as I was at that point.

The rest of the day (after the pool) was catching up with everybody at home. I showed Mom pictures of the trip, told Chris and Susan about the resort, and called Laurie to chat about everyone I met.

I would love to go back to Mexico someday, but I need to research the area where I'm going to stay a little bit more (Ian put us all to shame with his extensive research on the food available in Playa del Carmen). I'm also going to have to learn just a few more phrases in Spanish than "where is ____?", "please", and "thank you". I had no trouble navigating in English, but it's only polite to be able to at least hold a rudimentary conversation in the language of the country you're visiting. I may change that opinion if I ever get the chance to visit Asia, since Japanese was such a mystery to me when I tried to learn a little of it on my own. Then again, that's what language classes are for.

I have two more trips planned for this year; one short one to North Carolina in July for my play, and JournalCon in October. That leaves about two weeks still free for me to do something. I'm sure all my money will go towards the house/condo, but I'm going to keep my fare watcher on Travelocity and Expedia set for Europe and England, just in case something really inviting and inexpensive pops up.

Before any of that can happen, I have to get some sleep. I think I might take a quick dip before I go to bed.