Wednesday, October 28, 2009

"Have car, will travel, BEWARE!" Chapter 2- 'Pas Gentile'


We set off, south down the main stretch of highway leaving over developed Cancun behind us. Passing by sign after sign of new condo developments- all in English by the way. All of this as we learned through our research on the area was pretty new. We could tell that we were in a part of the world that was very unique. The landscape is as flat as an Illinois corn field, but all around is the jungle creeping in from everywhere.

I had not driven stick in many years and while I had a shaky time, didn't have too many problems right away. It was of course highway driving and therefore smooth sailing, after all, once you get going on the highway there is no need to switch gears. The problems came as we entered into towns and had to stop and go. Let's just say that stalling in the middle of a Mexican intersection becomes a very dangerous game of trying to get out of the way, but also keeping out of the way of others. At first one can assume they are taking part in some sort of mass chaos on the streets with cars and scooters constantly zipping by. They don't have the time to wait for Mr. Guerro Tourist to get his car running and moving again, which went against the assumption that things slow down in Mexico. That people aren't in such a big rush to get to places.

What it truly means is that while no one is in a particular rush to get somewhere, they definitely don't want to see some white boy on vacation clogging up the main intersection.

Not my idea of having fun either, especially when you couple my frustration over not being able to handle the world's smallest car with my lovely travel companion's cackle at all the misfortune I have put us in. Picture this: a grown man whining "Baby... It is not funny! Help!!! I can't get the stupid clutch to catch... What is wrong with this fucking car?!?"

The first couple of times this happened, my girlfriend (now my wife) lovingly and gently let me know what I was doing wrong with some words or looks of encouragement. "You are doing fine- it isn't easy," was what she would say. After stalling for the seventh time in the last half hour, the comedy was apparent for her.

She began to respond back to me with a little smirk. Still with the same kind words, but the tone shifted a bit. More of a I-shouldn't-have-to-repeat-myself type of speak. She should have been used to this though, because she was a French teacher, and all teachers are supposed to remain patient even with their slowest student. The problem was that she was teaching at a highly respected University where even the slowest learner probably had my ACT score beat by double digits.

Smirking turned into chuckling. Chuckling turned into soft, reserved laughter. Reserved laughter turned into full blown hysterical, red in the face, tears streaming down the cheek, bellowing laughter. All this happening while being sworn at by those riding scooters around my stalled car and me pounding the steering wheel because I have no control over things.

Pas gentile!
Not nice!

All this became a part of the fun, and eventually I was able to laugh at myself a bit more. Not right away of course, but a few moments afterwards. Usually after getting to our destination and away from this car. So far, the problems were minimal. The problems had more to do with a lack of composure. My nerves would be tested over the next few days however.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

"Have car, will travel, BEWARE!" Chapter 1: 'Heed the gods' warnings young man'



The first trip I ever took that involved renting a car happened to be in Mexico. Specifically- the Yucatan peninsula, all throughout the state of Quintana Roo and small parts of the state of Yucatan. Beautiful land. Gorgeous sea. Amazing culture. Spectacular weather. And the vacation was long overdue, especially for my very patient wife (back then- my girlfriend of a few years) who for seemingly ever had been putting up with my very long hours at the office (something that was unheard of due to her, how can I say- Frenchness?) with very little time off. Literally the only other vacations we took were quick trips to places like Saugatuck, Michigan on a bitterly cold weekend in mid-October. That was supposed to be our Summer holiday- things just kept getting pushed back. Or there was the time where I thought I was being all suave by taking this poor woman to Midwest tourist hell, otherwise known as Wisconsin Dells. Needless to say, we both needed this time and this vacation to go smoothly and be fulfilling.

We arrived at the Cancun airport knowing that we had to find the little Dollar rental car hut just outside. Time was ticking and our seven day trip had been pre-planned almost down to minute intervals. We wanted to get the most out of this trip! The plan was to get in that car and drive the hell out of the over-developed Cancun area and head immediately south into the lesser-developed Riviera Maya, specifically to our palapa on the beach in Tulum.

We approach the counter with the understanding that everything has been taken care of, considering we booked the car ahead of time. Then time came to pay for the initial usage of this tiny, manual transmission car, and that was when I should have seen all of the problems that we would face over the next five days or so. Like the idiot that I am, I forgot to notify my bank that I would be in Mexico... Card denied.

Now this is a common thing for many travelers. How do I know? Well, you see, I WORK FOR A BANK and have to handle this issue for people all the time. You would think that lesson would have been learned by me through others' habitual mistakes, but no. Not me. I remain ignorant to the ways of the world. Which is why I was probably ignorant to the high probability that this would not be the last time we had problems with this little car.

Looking back on it, I am sure that I would have normally not have forgotten such a basic thing, but I chalk up my forgetfulness to divine intervention. Who knows- maybe it was one of the ancient Mayan gods looking out for my well being. After all, while this little car did take us all throughout the beautiful land of the Yucatan, it did also lead to quite a lot of head aches and frustration (not to mention neck pains, broken glass, cracked bumpers, bruised egos, and most importantly- terrific stories).

A quick call to my office, a favor to someone that probably still owes me more than she would care to admit, and a little negotiation with the Dollar people got us on our way only about an hour behind original schedule. What is great about it all is that the changes to the plan, all due to the fact that my card was screwed up for me not calling in advance to let them know I would be out of the country lead us to having to pay a little more per day on insurance in order to get the car right then and there. Choc Muhl or one of the other Mayan gods must have been looking out for us, because without these little changes to our plan, we would have been in a world of hurt (not to mention debt).

Onward bound we were, on our way to the most beautiful white sand beach and the coziest set of sticks bound together to form a little hut one could ask for. Excited doesn't describe how we felt. I just wish we would have heeded the Mayan gods' warnings to not get in that car. To stay in touristy and quite literally "American" Cancun and hang out with frat boys getting wasted poolside as they try to boss around a local to bring them another drink.

For that would have been the safe trip...

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

"Have car, will travel, BEWARE!" Prologue


This is a fair warning to any and all that ever join me, or run into me while I am traveling. I am letting you know right now that I am in some way shape or form cursed in a very specific capacity.

I cannot drive while traveling for pleasure in hot climates without something very wrong happening.

Now I realize this seems way to specific for it to really matter, but hear me out on this. After all, I pride myself on knowing that I will at least try to do what is right for my fellow man, and therefore knowing that I have some sort of curse over my head in regards to self-operated transportation in a place that is approximately in excess of 75 degrees on average throughout most of the year, I feel that it is my duty to tell you now to keep clear.


Besides, I want to be the guy in the picture- relaxing and enjoying. What this picture doesn't tell you is that I had just been a part of the third major accident/issue involving motorized vehicles within a 48 hour period. Just call me the modern day John Candy, because whether by plane, train or automobile, I am sure to get involved in some sort of trouble.

I guess I should learn from past lessons that it is not a good thing for me to even try to operate cars, scooters, motor bikes, trucks, etc. while in these climates because too much damn stupidness happens. Call it stubbornness, call it ignorance, call it naivety- whatever. Just know that while on vacation, in hot climates, I don't plan on sitting around the Sandal's resort sipping piña coladas (the drink above was a piña colada, but not at Sandals) and watching Betty and Lou from Des Moines try their hand at hula dancing. I want to get out there and see things for myself. No matter the dangers involved. No matter the curse that has and probably always will plague me.

This is not a revelation by the way that has just hit me all of a sudden. No, the signs were there from the very beginning. So please enjoy the following chapters in a book (albeit a short and choppy one) I would like to call “Have Care, Will Travel, Beware!”