Getting There

 The Yucatan was calling for me to return.

 I had spent a scant five days in Cancun in June '95 with two friends. Those days were packed with trips to haunting Mayan ruins, snorkeling in crystalline Tidy-Bowl-like waters, celebrating being out of town until whenever in the morning, and little sleep. So when the days began to grow cold (by California standards), and anointed with a free flight certificate, and I knew there was only one possible vacation destination.

 1:00 AM, November 26, I'm at LAX, packed into an American Super-80 with a load of sleepy travelers, destination Dallas, then on to Cancun.
 

The Song of the Solo Traveler

 Photo: View south along the Isla Cancun hotel zone

 This situation began before I left. As the departure date neared, it became clear that I'd be taking this vacation alone. I had made plane, hotel and car reservations in October and invited a few friends to go -- the only caveat that they'd have to buy their own plane tickets, of course. As it turned out, nobody else could go, either because of Thanksgiving family demands, because of oversold flights around the holiday, or that they expected me to procure another ticket for them (hmmm...)

 I certainly don't have any problems going places on my own, but I've gathered that most other people do. While some of my most memorable trips have been solo, my own friends & family recoil at the idea. The common remarks were things like "Alone in a foreign country -- how's anyone going to know if you drown / crash / get kidnapped / get chowed by Chupacabras," etc...

 A lot of people I met on this trip seemed to think that solo travel was pretty bold, too. So at first I developed the convoluted Song of the Solo Traveler, a schpiel in which I described how I made reservations and nobody else could go, how I enjoy going places by myself, no I'm not ditching a wife or the law, etc. Eventually I grew tired of the act; when asked "why are you traveling alone," I just replied "Why not??"
 

Condominios Cancun Plaza - A "steal" of a deal

 I used a lot of Internet resources to put this trip together, including hotel reservations. Seems that our stateside travel agencies aren't willing to make lodging-only travel arrangements except at the exorbitant rack rates and aren't willing to do any research into alternative accommodations. (I guess 10% commission on anything less, particularly if it doesn't pop up instantly in their SABRE computer, isn't worth their time).

 I came across Los Condominios Cancun Plaza on a Mexican travel agency's web site. No, I'm not giving the http:// . . . and you'll see why in a minute. At only $60 per night and on a prime stretch of Isla Cancun, a seemingly incredible deal. When I arrived there at about noon on the 26th, my initial impression was relief . . . good, looks like a real hotel. However, when I returned to my room later that day after about an hour at the pool and beach, I learned of the hidden Plaza "tax": my watch and all the cash in my wallet (about $80 US) were missing. The room had been locked and those articles were pretty well stashed in my belongings. There was some evidence of tampering around the door latch, although it was difficult to tell if it was recent. I suspected that someone had a room key -- likely a hotel employee -- saw me head downstairs and decided it was time to do some holiday shopping.

 I immediately confronted the front desk staff, who suddenly lost their facility with English (it was fairly good during check-in just hours before). I continued in Spanish, prodding to find who on the staff had been in room, and who had a key. I demanded the return of my belongings, *ahora mismo*. Finally, three bumbling security guards were dispatched to my room, where they began a search for "evidence." I eventually had to throw out Larry, Curly and Jose when their hunt for clues started to look like a hunt for more things to steal.

 I demanded a refund for my pre-paid stay. The staff contacted the Mexican travel agency, Best Day, who arranged the accommodations there. They offered to switch hotels for me . . . but only in the next morning.

 That night, after taking on my person everything of value, I went to the Dady'O nightclub with a couple of nice young women from Quebec that I'd met at the pool (probably at the same time somebody was picking out a nice watch and some cash in my room). They were surprised at what had happened, and commented on how the window on the door of their room did seem a little loose. The evening at Dady'O was a lot of fun and a welcome departure from the Condominios Cancun Plaza events of that afternoon. Dady'O also probably has the loudest sound system anywhere; it's directed such that it literally thumps the dance floor but makes seductive conversation possible elsewhere in the place.

 That night, I slept surprisingly soundly, considering the possibility of further "visits" to my room. I was awakened, eventually, to a crack of sunlight coming around the shut curtain, and a rattling noise at the door...

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