Mexican Adventure, Part II
The Park Royal in Cozumel fulfilled its promise to us of affordable pampering amid a mildly ethnic backdrop. The lobby, the showpiece of any resort worth its complementary pillow mint, was impressive, dominated by an enormous, Mayan-style straw canopy. That roof, probably at least 50 feet tall, was impressive. It was, clearly, a nod to the cultural past of the region. It also had me wondering how much “Mayan” was left in the local sensibility. Were human sacrifices really a thing of the past? How was justice meted out? If, for instance, the management caught me stealing the cashews from the mini-bar how would i be dealt with? would I be ritualistically filleted and offered to the Mayan sun god? I decided it best to stick to the complementary buffet.
Ah yes, the buffet: the anchor that holds together the glue for the gears of an all-inclusive resort. I realize I just mixed and mangled a bunch of metaphors there, but such a mixture of descriptors is the best way to describe the bottomless smorgasbord available to us. There was just so much food.
The beauty of the all-inclusive resort is you can eat whatever and whenever you want. It took me a few meals – or “sessions” as I liked to call them – to realize that I could bring bizarrely assembled plates of food back to my table, and the waiters would not judge me. That is a key difference between a buffet layout and a proper, sit-down establishment. Just try piling on your own, brought-from-home chipotle sauce on your "steak frites" at your local French bistro, and your snooty French waiter will shoot eye-daggers at you until you cease and desist such nonsense.
At this resort buffet, conversely, there were no such restrictions. I ended up trying to see how many different foods I could smother in guacamole, and I found the sky was the limit. Guacamole soon became a sort of all-purpose lubricant, not unlike WD-40, that could help me transition from one food type to the next. Indeed, nothing quite diffuses the acidity of a citrus salad and readies the palette for seafood pallella like a generous helping of guacamole.
But the dining bonanza did not end at the restaurant. Instead, it reached it's climax when we learned, on day 3 of our stay, that it was actually possible to order a cheeseburger, nachos, and a lime daquiri (full disclosure: 6 lime daquiris) without ever having to exit the hotel pool. In fact, I soon discovered there was no reason to leave the pool at all, as after daquiri #5, I decided that the closest urinal, located in the restroom 50 meters away from where I was floating, was simply too far, and that the chlorinated pool would do just fine, thank you. I'm not proud of this, but let's be honest: pride goes straight out the window when you order that first poolside cheeseburger. Indeed, the Park Royal had us in it's lime-flavoured, death-grip of sloth, and we were only too happy to comply.
If you'll forgive the random analogy, our all-inclusive resort experience reminded me of Kobe beef. This is the Japanese beef that is coveted for it's unrivaled tenderness and rich flavor. The secret to Kobe beef's deliciousness is in how the cows are treated: in short, they are treated exactly like guests at an all-inclusive resort: The cows are raised on a steady regimen of plentiful, delicious food, beer (yes, beer) and are encouraged to do as little exercise as possible, so as to keep their muscles soft and tender. Complementary massages are also part of the deal. Sound familiar? Let's not forget the mandatory wearing of colored bracelets within the resort, akin to being tagged like animals under observation. Still, did I mention how good that guacamole was?
Coming in Part III: Scuba Diving
Ah yes, the buffet: the anchor that holds together the glue for the gears of an all-inclusive resort. I realize I just mixed and mangled a bunch of metaphors there, but such a mixture of descriptors is the best way to describe the bottomless smorgasbord available to us. There was just so much food.
The beauty of the all-inclusive resort is you can eat whatever and whenever you want. It took me a few meals – or “sessions” as I liked to call them – to realize that I could bring bizarrely assembled plates of food back to my table, and the waiters would not judge me. That is a key difference between a buffet layout and a proper, sit-down establishment. Just try piling on your own, brought-from-home chipotle sauce on your "steak frites" at your local French bistro, and your snooty French waiter will shoot eye-daggers at you until you cease and desist such nonsense.
At this resort buffet, conversely, there were no such restrictions. I ended up trying to see how many different foods I could smother in guacamole, and I found the sky was the limit. Guacamole soon became a sort of all-purpose lubricant, not unlike WD-40, that could help me transition from one food type to the next. Indeed, nothing quite diffuses the acidity of a citrus salad and readies the palette for seafood pallella like a generous helping of guacamole.
But the dining bonanza did not end at the restaurant. Instead, it reached it's climax when we learned, on day 3 of our stay, that it was actually possible to order a cheeseburger, nachos, and a lime daquiri (full disclosure: 6 lime daquiris) without ever having to exit the hotel pool. In fact, I soon discovered there was no reason to leave the pool at all, as after daquiri #5, I decided that the closest urinal, located in the restroom 50 meters away from where I was floating, was simply too far, and that the chlorinated pool would do just fine, thank you. I'm not proud of this, but let's be honest: pride goes straight out the window when you order that first poolside cheeseburger. Indeed, the Park Royal had us in it's lime-flavoured, death-grip of sloth, and we were only too happy to comply.
If you'll forgive the random analogy, our all-inclusive resort experience reminded me of Kobe beef. This is the Japanese beef that is coveted for it's unrivaled tenderness and rich flavor. The secret to Kobe beef's deliciousness is in how the cows are treated: in short, they are treated exactly like guests at an all-inclusive resort: The cows are raised on a steady regimen of plentiful, delicious food, beer (yes, beer) and are encouraged to do as little exercise as possible, so as to keep their muscles soft and tender. Complementary massages are also part of the deal. Sound familiar? Let's not forget the mandatory wearing of colored bracelets within the resort, akin to being tagged like animals under observation. Still, did I mention how good that guacamole was?
Coming in Part III: Scuba Diving
posted by filthy soapbox at 9:40 AM
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