There’s nothing quite like getting up at 6:50 AM when you’re on vacation, but sacrifices must be made when diving is to be had. I fiddled with my camera for way too long, trying to get a red filter in the underwater casing, only to have to forfeit it for today’s dives. That’s what I get for forgetting to do it until the morning of. It was disappointing not to have it for the dives, but it’s working now, so I’m set for tomorrow.
Because we dove today, we got free breakfast and lunch at the Blue Angel restaurant. I enjoyed banana pancakes and a chimichanga, respectively. And also two banana daiquiris. For lunch of course. I’m a responsible diver, after all. And who can drink rum at seven in the morning? Okay, maybe that’s a stupid question. Disregard. The chimichanga was good, but they used a red sauce instead of whatever green, tangy sauce they used yesterday. I was kind of disappointed. Maybe next time.
After lunch I was feeling a little fatigued. Kristen and I contemplated the best napping location (room vs. ocean side) and ultimately decided the room would be the best choice because there was no shady spot outside. Unfortunately (or fortunately, because I was in the room napping), some weather rolled in and it wasn’t sunny for much longer.
When I woke up from my nap, I had a terrible case of heartburn, which has seemed to be plaguing me ever since we were on our way to the airport Saturday morning. BRK was kind enough to give me some Tums, but I mooch off her enough already, so we stopped at the pharmacy on the way to dinner so I could get my own and Curtis could get some drugs for his various ailments as well.
Town was crazy because there was an Ironman Triathlon taking place. We ate dinner at Rolandi’s Restaurant Bar and Pizzaria. I was just happy to eat something that wasn’t going to later ignite my chest into a hot, raw, all-consuming pain. I enjoyed a margarita pizza and for dessert, coconut ice cream with Kahlua.
On the (kind of long, actually) walk back to the hotel, I watched as Kristen narrowly missed stepping on a… wtf is that? ZOMG IS THAT A FUCKING WILD TARANCHULA??!?
We stopped for photos. Curtis didn’t believe it’s authenticity so he threw a stick at it. It scampered away a few feet, proving it wasn’t a fake. What did we do? Took more pictures, of course! Kristen got her foot real close to it to show the scale. Brave soul. May she rest in peace. Lollll, I kid, I kid.