Of ice storms, hurricanes, and my first trip abroad in more than half a year

What would one expect in a year like 2020? To suddenly meet normalcy? For things to be like, well, they were? I'm afraid we're far from that, and that's not even thinking about Tuesday's presidential election. (I finished writing this blogpost on the Saturday after the election, and I suppose my remark proved prescient.)

All in one day: ice storm and hurricane

So why was I then surprised when, seemingly out of nowhere, Lubbock was hit by an arctic blast that brought with it sleet and ice on the morning of my departure to Mexico's Riviera Maya? At least I wore long pants.... Conditions overnight had gradually worsened, and thanks to a delayed boarding process (the plane had been on the ground in Lubbock) and deicing procedures I came within a few minutes of missing my connecting flight to Cancun. Had I not sat in First Class and had the international flight not been delayed by 20 minutes I wouldn't have made it—and probably would have had to spend a day or two in Dallas since Cancun was about to be pummeled by Hurricane Zeta.

How a tropical depression suddenly developed into a Category 1 hurricane is still a mystery to me, but suddenly it was there. The flight was smooth, as was the landing, and things really didn't look all that bad. On the way to the H10 Ocean Coral y Turquesa I noticed some wind damage that had apparently been inflicted by Hurricane Delta, which had hit less than three weeks earlier (and had upset Alan and Martha's travel plans to the region). By the time I got to the resort the wind had started to pick up considerably, and we were informed that the one and only restaurant would close at 7:00 p.m. and that there'd be a curfew from 8:30 p.m. until further notice.

Actually, I had fun filling the jacuzzi on my sheltered porch and watching the storm blow by while sipping wine. Thanks to the location of my unit, I was totally out of the wind—on the other side of the building, rooms were inundated with driving rain. Lots of palm trees were damaged, and the next morning there were broken roof tiles on the ground. Much of the beach had eroded away, and the beach bar had vanished as had all of the palapas. I saw much worse damage on my beach walks in the following days.

But folks down here are resilient, if not stoic, when it comes to adversity. The clean-up process started early the next morning, with worker bees picking up shattered tiles, removing fallen palm fronds, and raking seaweed from the pools. By that afternoon, the sun had started to poke through the big, thick clouds, and guests started to occupy the lounge chairs and started to sip their drinks. It doesn't take long for life to normalize down here.

On Wednesday, my second full day at the H10, I decided to go for a ride since the morning sun was brilliant and the winds had finally calmed down to their usual intensity. On this first exploratory ride I stayed fairly close to the resort, around Puerto Morelos, taking the few secondary roads that exist in this area to get an idea of how the hurricane had affected the region. Away from the coast only some minor wind damage was visible, but no flooding like on the road that connects various resorts to the Carretera Nacional. Not much had changed since my last visit here, exactly two years ago almost to the day.

Altogether I took three rides while I was down on the Riviera Maya, varying in length between 27 and 35 miles. The longest one took me north toward Cancun, where I turned around right after crossing the bridge across the outlet of the large lagoon toward the Caribbean. On all three days I had ample sunshine during the mornings; later in the day clouds would prevail. Riding down here really isn't ideal since the only road is the four-lane national highway that runs all the way from Cancun down to Chetumal, close to Belize. It has a wide shoulder, but the incessant traffic does get one one's nerves. (I did notice that the traffic volume was definitely less than during pre-pandemic times.) Still, there's always something to see, and a tropical change of scenery from Lubbock is nothing to scoff at.

The rest of my time I spent eating and drinking too much, while also working on my lounging skills. That's the problem with those all-inclusives: It's way too easy to become a motionless Jabba the Hutt. This time around it took a little more effort since the drink service around the pools was anything but stellar. I'm not sure what it was, but the former cheerfulness and can-do-anything attitude of the wait staff were largely not noticeable. No, it wasn't terrible, but it was not the same as in all those years that I have been visiting Mexican resorts. It was much more like being in the Dominican Republic where this extra sparkle has always been missing. 

A similar disappointment was the food (even if the photos don't seem to support this claim). H10 prides itself in the number and variety of specialty restaurants, which require reservations and that offer à la carte service. Thanks to the pandemic and/or the hurricane (or simply cost-cutting measures, which I favor as an explanation) half of these restaurants were closed, diminishing the possibilities of varied dining that one pays for. The menus have become a bit stale, choices have been reduced, and too often "no hay" indicated that something wasn't available. Add more lackluster service and you ask yourself why you spent essentially the same money on something of half the quality. I know, First World Problems....

I don't want to come across as a sour puss, but I didn't derive the enjoyment out of this trip that I had not only hoped for but expected. I'm grateful that I was able to once again travel outside of the country and get to go on "vacation" (from what?), but the experience was underwhelming enough that I have meanwhile cancelled a trip to a sister-resort, the H10 Ocean Riviera Paradise in Playa del Carmen, which I had booked for December. 

This disappointment really doesn't have anything to do with the so-so weather as I'm really not into roasting myself in the sun all day. I quite enjoyed my walks along the beach, and sitting on my balcony in the afternoon when a sudden downpour rolled in provided me with some quality reading time. And even when it seemed that the rain would never end, there'd suddenly be the sun again. It's like west Texas: If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes. 

When I took my shuttle back to the airport on Monday it became clear that not having tried to ride over the weekend had been the right decision: The roads were inundated, with giant potholes lurking under the surface. 

The flight home was on time, smooth, and rather pleasant if one discounts the damn face masks, but that's just part of life nowadays. If my luggage had made it with me to Lubbock instead of taking an extra 48 hours thanks to American Airlines' inefficient bag transfer in DFW and subsequent delivery snafus, I would have thought life was back to normal. Actually, coming to think of it, isn't that what air travel is all about? 😅 No worries, my subsequent e-mail to AA's customer service yielded a positive and satisfying response that will come in handy on a future trip.

Final verdict: I am thankful that I was able to take this trip, with all its shortcomings that were definitely outweighed by the positives. Let's hope that my next trip will build on this one.

Jürgen