We woke up to another beautiful morning. Breakfast was fast, for we had plans to go parasailing. A few quick bites and we ran down to the dock. Being early, Kim, Kim's sister Trish, and I had the boat to ourselves. Two very quiet and equally nice gentleman escorted us a few hundred yards out into the sea. I swear that not more than 20 words were spoken by these men, and Kim and I were strapped to a huge parachute. I have to say, that for the risk involved, the casual manner in which our guides handled it calmed my nerves instantly. They made it seem like we were going for a walk in the park, and just like that Kim and I were ten feet, thirty, sixty, a hundred feet in the air.
The only sound that high up was the sound of wind rustling around our ears. I kept looking up at the parachute nervously, but it held. Cozumel is a beautiful island, and I was very glad I was able to see it from the air as I did not get much of a glimpse from the plane. The coast line is dotted with resorts and hotels, but not a half a mile in the entire island is nothing but green. It looked like row and rows of broccoli. Beautiful. Smartly, we left Kim's camera on the boat -duh- however Trish brought her thinking cap and brought hers, so this picture is courtesy of Trish Shepherd.
The water is staggeringly clear, from two hundred feet up we were spotting fish. Kim and I really didn't say much, as not much needed to be said. For just a few moments I thought I might know what it was like to be a bird. But I remembered that birds probably don't know what its like to be a bird, and the moment passed. Back on shore, with the rental car idea out the window, we had no plans and killed hours nursing cocktails. Feeling restless, the three of us had seen a monstrously big inflatable rock climbing thingy, a good 15 feet high. I am childishly drawn to anything I can climb on. I was able to scale it only a couple times before the fun police on a kayak informed me that I was naive to assume anything was free, and we retreated.
All now was in place for New Year's Eve. The resort really put on a show for us. Bamboo shoots 20 feet long held paper lamps and long strips of tapestry. A dance floor was placed in the middle, and everyone was given handmade ceramic shot glasses for the bountiful tequila.
The evening began slowly, with everyone waiting for somebody to do something, anything. Finally the ice on the dance floor was broken by a few brave souls and the night from there is a blur of tequila shots, dancing, and unbuttoned inhibitions. Sweaty, full of tequila, and hiccuping loud enough to wake the entire island, I dragged Kim into the ocean for a late night dip before retiring to sleep off the celebration. I could not have picked a better way to spend the christening of this new year.
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