Getting married is hard work. By the time my wedding was over, I had a new-found appreciation for the concept of the “honeymoon”. Sure, in my case, I could have done with a more literal interpretation (month-long vacation? yes please!), but even an abbreviated version would do nicely.
Unfortunately, this is what awaited us upon arrival at our Mayan Riviera resort last Monday.
If, as postulated by D. Zoolander, moisture is the essence of wetness, and wetness is the essence of beauty, then we were simply awash in gorgeousness. It was everywhere, just dripping all over the place. Pouring, really. And it kept on pouring for 36 hours straight. I have never seen so much rain, and I’ve been to Vancouver plenty of times.
Luckily, on our second full day, the weather cleared up and we finally got to enjoy our beautiful surroundings.
And enjoy them we did, notwithstanding a few, small details. It sounds ungrateful to nit-pick about this, but, boy, was it hot. Satan’s-crowded-armpit-kind-of-hot. The humidity was off-the-charts … so much so that after the third or fourth day, my camera gave out. This was a minor tragedy since, as my husband (boy, it still feels weird to write that) has had plenty of cause to bemoan, I’m an avid vacation snapper. [I’m the kind of person who has nightmares about traveling to some exotic destination and realizing that she forgot her camera at home. No kidding.] As a result, we have a meagre few photographs from our honeymoon, and only one of the two of us together — squinty-eyed, bedraggled and mildly sun-stroked. Lovely.
I did manage to get a snap of my Gap polka-dot bikini in action. Remember how I said before that it possessed some magical abilities making it the perfect bikini (I’m paraphrasing here)? Well, it does. Magical boob-wrangling abilities for one. Bikinis are not known to be particularly kind to a girl’s cleavage, so it’s quite a feat to find one so, um, supportive. In any case, polka dots are always a winning proposition.
In retrospect, this pic — while ably detailing the triumph of the polka-dot bikini over gravity — is a bit unfortunate in making me look a bit too much like the love child of a giant ostrich and a Vegas showgirl. Oh well…