Captain Graybeard, Esquire and I have returned from a much needed, far overdue week-long vacation. I’m sure there were a million things we could have done in a weeks time in Mexico, but that was not what this vacation was about. Some vacations are meant for visiting as many cool museums, buildings and unique sites as possible. This vacation was about replenishing vitamin D stores, putting sleep in the sleep bank, and unplugging from life.

So, instead I devoured 4.5 books and 6 magazines, slept a million hours, drank Sol on the beach at 2 in the afternoon, and ate my weight in ceviche. Graybeard’s week looked similar, only his days included numerous jaunts into the ocean.

We did make an exception to see Chichen Itza, one of the New 7 Wonders of the World. We signed up for an all-day chartered bus tour, which in addition to a guided tour at Chichen Itza, included lunch at a hacienda, a steady stream of snacks, water and beer on the bus, a trip to the Ik-Kil Cenote, and a quick stop in a small Mexican town.

Tulum was amazing. It’s a tiny town about 80 miles from Cancun, with ruins on the beach and a much slower pace than the rest of the Mayan Riviera. We spent five nights in “eco chic” hotels, which is a fancy way of saying there is no electricity during the day and minimal electricity after dark. This fact is made up for by the location of these hotels, which is directly on the beach. This fact is hard to overcome when you are in the last chapters of the Hunger Games and the lights go out. Both hotels were wonderful, and I recommend either if you are contemplating a trip to Tulum (Posada Lamar and Amansala). I also recommend that you do not bother to do your own research and trust me that El Capitan has the best ceviche in the entire world.

The last night we stayed in Cancun, which is a total shithole. It is not worth my time to explain why, but to say that you should never go there.

I think the sign of a good vacation is one where by the end you’re ready to come home. Around the 5th day I remembered that I really hate being hot and sticky all of the time. My skin not so subtly reminded me that it is not suited for sun, sand and surf. And my hair, well, disaster is a good word. The end of our vacation can be easily summed up with this question Graybeard asked me at the airport on our way home:

“Don’t you kind of just want to go sit in some bar, watch it rain, drink a pint of beer and eat some oysters?”

Yes, yes I do.