Day 5-Friday, December 11, 2009

We were out the door by 11:30, made a quick stop by the buffet for a snack, then Shelli made her reservation at the spa for a sea salt scrub, while I inquired about the Dolphin Swim at Guest Services.  Not only were we not able to get an appointment until tomorrow, but the Dolphin Swim is $180 per person, so we will have to settle for the Dolphin Encounter, which means we can touch, hug, and kiss the dolphins, but not swim with them. Again, next time. While tomorrow is technically my day, but I don't mind doing this for Shelli–despite the fact that I'm more than a little terrified at the thought of getting in the water with dolphins. Don't they have teeth??

Soon we were ready to venture off to Mambo Beach. We weren't really sure what Mambo Beach was–sounded like a cross between a beach, a club, a restaurant, and another town. What I do know is that it was identified as a gay-friendly place to go on www.gaycuracao.com, and Shelli, it being her day, preferred to try something new rather than go back to Punda.

We sat like idiots at the bushalte in front of the resort, waiting for a bus to take us over to Mambo Beach. After being passed up and honked at by several buses, I walked back over to the front desk to ask if/when buses to Mambo Beach arrived. The guest services lady, Viela, smiled at me as you would a child that asked why the sky is blue, and informed me that no buses travel to Mambo Beach, because it is right next door, just a 5 min walk down the road. Curious! So I asked her, what is Mambo Beach? Is it a beach, a town, a club? She nodded her head and said it's a very nice beach, it has restaurants and bars, and shops.

So I returned to the bushalte where Shelli was waiting, and we started the trek down the road. We walked all the way to the end of the road before the bend, expecting a fabulous beach-like place to unfold before us, but all we saw was what appeared to be a gravel-y lot with a few cars parked in it. After we had been walking MORE than 5 minutes, I was quick to protest that I thought we were lost. The road curved around leading into another resort and the Sea Aquarium. At the curve, I asked two white women sitting on the ledge smoking cigarettes if they knew where Mambo Beach was, and they replied something in Dutch, which of course I don't speak. I told Shelli I didn't think we should walk any further down the road–I was pretty sure this beach was supposed to be BEFORE the Aquarium. I wondered aloud if that gravel lot was it, and since we were turning around anyway, might as well check it out. We crossed the rocky lot and sure enough, a sign read Mambo Beach with an arrow pointing to a ramp. We went down the ramp and came upon a ticket window announcing a $3.00 admission fee. Shelli bought us two tickets and we took the ramp the rest of the way down. Suddenly, Mambo Beach was unfolded before us! It was SPECTACULAR! Huge outdoor bars, a restaurant, and a narrow strip of shops behind a sandy shore dotted with several "beach beds" of various sizes leading right into the same perfectly Azule waters as our resort next door. (We could actually see the infamous disco, and the Breezes Resort Dive Shop with its hanging wetsuits.)

We quickly claimed the last remaining covered beach bed, and were soon greeted by a white surfer looking server named Mikal. That's Mikal, pronounced "mek-il", but with that phlegmy sound from Hebrew and Arabic, and I guess Dutch languages. I said it wrong several times and he shook his head and said you guys just don't have that *phlegm* sound in your English vocabulary. I declared that for correct pronunciations sake, I'd call him "Make Ill" with the *phlegm*. He seemed happy with that. Shelli ordered drinks while I made a beeline for the water, which was simply splendid. This place was very European compared to the town of Punda. There were mostly white people on the beach, with levels of tan varying from pale to bright red, to just plain out burnt. I also noted there was much more nude sunbathing taking place on the shore that at Breezes. Several people were reading books with titles in different languages so this told me they were not Americans. No one really spoke to us besides Make*phlegm*Ill, nor did we speak to anyone.

After my dip, I returned to the bed and ordered some food. Both Shelli and I had this grilled shrimp dish that was simply scrumptious, especially when you dipped it in what they called "cocktail sauce" but I recognized as aioli, or seasoned mayonnaise. I ordered Mai-Tai and extra ice to drink, while Shelli sipped on the local beer, Amstel Bright. *(By the way, Amstel is the only beer on tap at Breezes, so if you're a cerveza snob, don't expect a brewery–or even a liquor store–level of variety. Beer means one thing at Breezes–Amstel, a Dutch beer from the Netherlands.) Having finally eaten something delicious, and whet my whistle with more libations (it wasn't nearly as fun paying for them!) I ventured off to spend some money in the local shops. Shelli gave me $100. I had forgotten to bring a towel, so I went into the first shop and asked the black woman behind the counter if they sold beach towels. She looked offended and said no. I was repelled by her chilly tone, and I promptly left the store without even exploring her other offerings. It looked like mostly baby clothes anyway.

I went into the next store and asked if they sold beach towels. The tall, model-esque white woman told me yes, and guided me to a shelf of beach towels. How much? I asked. I must have been visibly taken aback when she said $35 USD, because she looked at me and said "What? You looking for something cheap? This is a boutique, we don't have cheap things. The cheapest I have is $20, or try next door." Again, I was a bit miffed at the rudeness, but her store was really beautiful and I wanted to look around some more. So, I shook it off, thanked her, and began to peruse the rest of her shelves. She had some really beautiful handmade jewelry, which was surprisingly "cheap". I purchased a rainbow necklace and matching earrings. Then yes, I went ahead and grabbed a $20 towel. She was much nicer to me then. I paid for my things ($40) and left. In the next store I purchased some comfortable navy blue flip flops, that are no competition to my Adidas Fit Foam sliders (which I left at home), but they don't have that irritating flip flop thingy that goes between your big toe, making them more ideal for walking. Just $15! Having now spent half my budget, I returned to the beach bed to verify that the $100 she gave me was not all the money we had. She said to me my favorite words: "Nope baby, that's just for you to spend". SWEET! I vowed to blow the rest of it before we left, but my then I was feeling hot and ready to get back into the water. While I went for a second dip, Shelli ordered a burger that she said was quite delicious. It had an egg on top. When I returned from the water, we snapped some photos, and then I went back to the shops to spend the rest of my money on two more pairs of earrings.

It's a good thing these stores didn't have a "you break, you buy" policy, because I broke 2 pieces of jewelry in two different stores, BACK TO BACK! The first was a pair of pair earrings that separated from its wire while I was pulling it from the screen it was hanging from. I took it woefully to the counter, and the shop owner assured me someone could fix it. The second was back in the same shop with the "not cheap" beach towels. As I was waiting for some silver earrings I had purchased on my second visit to be wrapped, I attempted to try on a pretty rainbow bracelet. While I was pulling it on to my wrist, the elastic snapped and its rainbow pieces scattered everywhere across the counter, right in front of the shop owner! OH! I was mortified! The shop owner interrupted my profuse apologies with a *tsk*, but waved it off, saying "It's okay, but you have to remember that when it's an elastic bracelet you need to put it on very slowly and carefully." She did not charge me for the bracelet. After that, my zeal for shopping was gone, as were my funds, so I returned to the beach bed. It was after 3 pm by then, and Shelli had a 5 pm appointment for a sea scrub at the Breezes Resort Blue Mahoe spa, so we decided to call it a day at Mambo Beach. We packed up and began the short walk back.

Night 5

I sat on the deck watching ocean sunset number 5 of 7 while Shelli showered for her appointment. When she left though, it occurred to me that I actually had some ME time for the first time since we'd been there. And I knew EXACTLY how I was going to spend 60-90 minutes of blissful alone time. (I love my wife, and being married, but I also love some alone time, especially since it's so rare these days!) I grabbed my phone and headset, and went back out to those fabulous swinging hammocks in front of the Wedding Gazebo, to observe the rest of the splendid sunset to the tunes of Norah Jones, Vanessa Carlton, and Mariah Carey. I'm not into yoga or chanting, but it was an "OHM" moment if there ever was one, and I literally indulged every minute, and second, of the experience until I had no choice but to head back to the room and shower for dinner. When I got there, Shelli was napping.

Dinner reservations that night were for Musayan, the resort's Japanese restaurant. I made the same mistake of choosing the teppanyaki table for dinner instead of the garden seating. The seats around the teppanyaki table were very cramped, and the bar stool was uncomfortably high and small for all the junk in my trunk.

I'm so sorry to keep bumming out about the food–I really am a positive and relatively easy to please person. However, the Japanese food from the teppanyaki table was SO disappointing to me, as was the presentation, which is supposed to be most of the fun of eating at a teppanyaki Table. We had the option of miso soup or Japanese salad. I had ordered the soup, Shelli had the salad. My soup was NO far from miso soup that I had to question whether or not I had misunderstood the guy explaining our starter options. It had no visible tofu or seaweed in it, and instead of being clear, it was murky with a number of unidentifiable vegetables (?) floating in it. GROSS! Shelli's seaweed salad looked and tasted much better.

This was no Benihana's, I noted, as a local chef slapped ingredients down on the hot plate with minimal explanations and almost no flair. She started with soba noodles (which she did shape into a cute little heart for a touch of niceness), then chicken, then beef, then shrimp, then fish, all of which were, say it with me now, edible, but not spectacular. Shelli lamented that she put teriyaki sauce (which she hates) on everything but the beef, so I ate her chicken and she ate my beef. We also downed a couple of bottles of mediocre and lukewarm sake, and choked down a few bites of self-serve sushi from a side table. I was actually relieved when the dinner presentation was over, and I was down from my bar stool before the "polite" applause for our chef ended.

One thing I haven't mentioned yet is my shoulder pain going from bad to worse, to excruciating. Every time I lift my right arm, or turn my neck, the sharp pain is breathtaking. So, I am more than ready to call it a night. Even laying down in is an impossibly painful feat. Shelli made an ice pack for my shoulder and I've had to down 4 Advil PM liqui-gels just to make the pain tolerable enough to sleep…hopefully. Meanwhile, we're watching Armageddon through poor reception on the flat screen satellite TV.

Tomorrow is another day! But beyond that, it's MY DAY!  If I'm up to it, I'd like to go back to Punda. And we have the Dolphin Encounter at the Sea Aquarium. I'd love to give snorkeling another go as well. I also want to gamble my $20 at the casino. And, there's still that gay bar to find and do! So much fun *yawn*….up, here comes the Advil…………..

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