Freakin’ Maya Whatta!


When I left you yesterday, I was heading for my supersized bubble bath to chill out. But what really happens is this.  I get in my casita and suddenly a second wind kicks in, like after a good run.  In fact, I feel a little spastic.  So I boot up my laptop in order to download the pictures/videos I’m about to take of the casita and the grounds.  I’m momentarily distracted because the Wi-Fi does not kick in. And by momentarily I mean fussing with it a good 40 minutes. But I’m still pretty stoked by how sweet everything is from inside …


to outside my casita…



Ironically my place happens to have  its own putting green–I’m probably the only person here who doesn’t golf:


Here at Mayacama there are one-bedroom casitas and three-bedroom villas:


For a tidy sum, membership buys you a good chunk of days in the villas for all the golf, spa, and top-tier dining services to your heart’s desire.  It’s probably a great way to vacation if you are a golf fanatic and want your family to also enjoy the clean, clear air away from the congested city, assuming no one in your party suffers from allergies (as in my case).  I love how beautifully they’ve designed the golf course around this magnificent lot of land, preserving its natural grace, but I’m wishing they also had an equestrian center on-site. It would be great to explore the hills and back trails on horseback.  Here are a couple of videos of the place:





So after I take these videos, I realize that I’d  left my key inside the house. I’m locked out!  Grrrr. Now the city girl in me comes out and does more than utter a few expletives.  Freakin’ maya whatta! And as the golf cart is back at the clubhouse, I have to walk back uphill with my tail between my legs and ask for a new key card. Concierge inquires about my connectivity then sends the IT person back with me to check on my network problem. I’m shameful that I’m becoming a difficult client after only a few hours of being at the retreat, but I am also shameless enough to accept his help.  Alas, after poking around for half an hour and chatting with me for another half, he declares my casita a dead zone.  His boss won’t be back till the morning so there will be no internet connection for me except up at the clubhouse or outside the compound. 

Unplugged, unwired, unbelievable.  My second wind is deflated.  But did I say my bathroom floor is heated? Well, it is.  So off goes the IT person and finally in the tub I go.  Unwind.


I can sooo learn to get used to this.  Don’t need no stinking internet.


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