Expectations


I have high expectations of myself. Everyone and everything else, not so much. In fact, I am often waiting to be disappointed.

You never know—looking at hotels and destinations on the web—how much they resemble reality, and what exactly you are going to get. "Garden Room" and "Veranda" are highly subjective terms especially when the country you are visiting is not native English-speaking. 

My recommendation to this establishment? Get a new photographer. 

We arrived in Mexico just yesterday and our hotel is more than was imagined or could have been conceived possible through a couple of pictures. It is absolutely freakin' amazing. With just 25 rooms, we basically have the place to ourselves and don't have to listen Aunt Marge from Indianapolis talk about her bunions (the #1 reason we "don't do" all inclusive resorts). 

We are in a top floor Master Suite. Not so much of a “suite”, but the dark deck flooring and white sheer canopies throughout the room more than make up for that fact. As does the view from the bed. Imagine sleeping to the sound of crashing waves, then waking up to pull back the curtains and see the beach, sky and tops of palm trees—from the bed—while winds dance with the white canopies around you. I am not. even. kidding. The view from the shower and the toilet is pretty much the same. Yes, the toilet. No need for a newspaper here (for Scott of course).

We aren't overly romantic people, but you cannot help but be all over each other and completely smitten in this place. And you don't even need alcohol (or foreplay for that matter). 

The understated yet ultimate selling point of this place is the terrace. Me and 10 of my closest friends (you can come next time) could lounge out there with golden margaritas and watch the pool, waves and sky to our hearts delight. Unless of course you would like to walk down to the canopy tent on the beach and get an hour massage for $45. Yep. 

A little slice of paradise, found once again. Boutique hotel. Reasonable prices. Fantastic food. Better drinks (one of which I am having right now, thank you Angel). What job? 

I realize I have just written a hotel review.  Just call me TripAdvisor. And here's my picture. 


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