Nine days ago we were basically running out the door of our apartment in Stockholm. Not because we really wanted to get away from it but because those plans of having sooo much time before leaving seem to fail miserably every time. Sweaty and with a heart rate higher than Trump on a twitter temper tantrum I managed to:
- Lock a set of keys in the basement storage when doing the final of 398 rounds down there, five minutes before leaving for the airport. What to do? Neighbour Axel, 80, was apparently out and about or not opening the door for my frantic ringing on his doorbell but fortunately the nice stay-at-home-dad from upstairs showed up like a hero in Baby Björn and I could get to my keys.
- Put the wrong set of keys in an envelope and mail them to my sister at the airport. Which meant – wrong set of keys left on the table for my tenants. Which meant – no way for them to get to all their stuff that they had stored downstairs a couple of days earlier. I called my sister from the gate at the airport and made the first “I’m in desperate need of help”-request. (I just thought it might take a little longer then two hours into our seven months travel, but hey – never make assumptions.)
It all got solved but it gives you a mental picture of what state I left Sweden in. If you’re picturing a hysterical, sweaty me with a huge backpack you’re correct. Don’t let that top picture fool you. I’m weirdly skilled at looking like a happy sloth while my brain is on fire.
Panic is not the ideal state for the take off on an adventure with your ten-year-old but luckily there had been lot’s of preparations before those last, hysterical 48 hours. It seems like we managed to bring what we needed, and more.
That extra long day wasn’t done with us though. When in Florida (Isa: “God, it’s hot and humid here!”) and arriving at the hotel I had booked through booking.com months ago, there was no reservation. Even though I had the confirmation in my phone. This has happened before and it’s annoying every time, but when you’re ten, been traveling for 14 hours and your body thinks it’s 3 am it’s even less fun. Booking.com did the best they could to get us a new hotel room but in 1,5 hours they had no luck – everything was sold out. And we were beyond exhausted.
Then, I kid you not, two angels in the shape of men in khakis and baseboll caps emerged on the parking lot where we currently were hanging out and spending money on UK calls with booking.com. After hearing about our lack of beds for the evening they offered to bunk together so we could use one of their rooms. Halleluja and blessings for kind strangers.
After that interesting start everything seemed like a breeze. Flight next day to Cancun was on time and so were we. Rental car in Cancun was so full of bumps and scratches I could drive that thing through Barrancas del Cobre without anyone noticing but it was working and the AC was too. Finally arriving in the jungle house we had booked for our first days and take a stroll down the beach made the stress from the past couple of days slowly release.
After a three day trip down to Bacalar and la laguna de los siete colores (the lake of the seven colors) we are now settled in Tulum for the coming 2,5 weeks. A lot has been adjusting in seemingly small but yet significant ways. Brain and body need time to calm down from the fast pace. It’s easy for the mind to keep running even though there’s nothing to fix or prepare anymore. And we’re not here to fill our every hour with activities and excursions.
More on our time here in Tulum next time.
The jungle house along Tulum beach road
Our casita at Lulu la Bruja in Bacalar
Isa trying out wheel poses in the yoga shala on the roof