CozMiniNEDFest01.5

This started out as a short report of my solo trip to Cozumel to meet
Bob and Sue, but it quickly got out of hand size wise.  I guess it's a
result of separation from computer and keyboard for four days.  Since
it's a bit quiet around here I don't feel so guilty posting it.

Arriving early to the airport at 7:00a for a 9:00 departure I am
rewarded with a seat in the front of the charter 747 Champion Air
charter for the two hour, fifteen minute flight to Cozumel.  The front
of the airplane also means that you will be the first one through
customs; in fact, I am number three.  Unfortunately, as the laws of
entropy surely dictate, my bags come out last - first in, last out.

So I stand around for an interminable time watching the one (authorized?
qualified?) baggage handler schlep the bags one by one onto the
carrousel.  I dizzy watching the bags that belong to people at the back
of the customs line circle endlessly.  Meanwhile, my bag sits beyond the
security glass, no more than a mere three away from my grasp, at the
bottom of the last cart of four to be unloaded.

After retrieving my single over stuffed bag, I approach Cozumel's red
light/green light customs lottery system, press the button and am
rewarded with the good karma of a green light directing me past the
customs inspectors who are busily dissecting the undergarments of the
unlucky.

There are certain aspects to solitary travel that I immensely enjoy.
You have time to bask in a good book, set your own schedule, observe
your fellow travelers, and study the quirks of the 'travail'.  The van
pickup at the Cozumel Airport is as chaotic as ever.  They are primarily
interested in transporting the more profitable tour groups as opposed to
the single traveler, particularly the ones far south of town.

The 'major domo' directing confused travelers (this time a fetching
young lady with a winning smile, a heart of ice, and a skill at putting
you off till later) shifts me and two other 'singles' from one line to
another, then to a queue for a van, 'Oooops, sorry, senior (big smile,
shrugged shoulders) -all full', then to another line.  Finally a driver
takes it upon himself to break ranks and asks our destination.  Like
sheep we bleat 'el cento, pro favor.' 'No problem', he says 'hop in!'

In minutes I'm dropped at the door of the Bahia, across the street from
the pro dive pier.  I check into my room (Strike and Sylvia's room for
the Coz99NEDfest) right next door to Senior and Senorita Feeesh.
Following a knock on the door, hugs are exchanged, and then we're off to
grab a quick lunch.  The pretzels and tomato juice having worn off from
my flight, a fish filet and guacamole salad from Palmera's puts me in a
better humor ready for our 2:00 afternoon two-tanker.

I find out over lunch that Sue has encountered a small problem with her
ear and, under medical advisement, is sitting out our Friday and
Saturday dives to try again on Sunday.  As much as I like Bob's company
and diving with him, we will miss her on our dive today.  Sue is
absolutely delightful, as all of you attending the CAIV02NEDfest will
find out.

Bob has graciously taken the time to arrange my diving this trip with
Caballito ("seahorse" in Spanish) for the three days I'm in Coz.  Since
I literally started packing at 10:30p the night before the trip, I had
little time to do much in the way of planning except to agree to a two
tank afternoon dive on the Friday of my arrival and a two tank late
morning dive on Saturday and Sunday before departing for home again on
Monday at noon.  The drill each day is air for the first dive and EAN36
for tank two.

The first of the Friday afternoon dives is to Palancar and the second to
Tormentos.   Since I'm making this trip to relax from a grueling
schedule at the office, I decide to leave my UW cameras at home.  Of
course all the fish know this and swim right up to my mask all weekend
to mock me.  We share two great dives with a friendly boatload of
Germans.

Bob, Sue, and I have dinner at Prima.  Albert's conspicuously absence is
in evidence by the calm and quiet atmosphere throughout the restaurant.
Apparently he has been spending quality time at the new local DAN
chamber  …Ahhhh, the joys of tri-mix and other strange and wonderful
gasses.  Although we miss chatting with the ever-exuberant Albert, the
food is excellent as usual.

I have a steak along with a couple of glasses of St Thomas cabernet,
while Sue and Bob both have two different but tasty shrimp dishes.  Bob
has his usual Coke and plies Sue with an industrial sized margarita.  As
a mathematician, Bob knows statistically that margaritas in sufficient
quantity can greatly improve your chances of getting lucky.  :-)

Bob does get lucky on our stroll back to the hotel.  Some girl calling
Bob 'Mr. Miyagi' stops him in the street to share her respect for his
film work (Karate Kid) and to say she has a friend that used to work
with him in California.  Bob tells her she's mistaken, but with his
press agent (me) and his sexy girlfriend (Sue) on his arm, this stalker
would have nothing of it.  :-)  In disbelief over the mistaken identity,
we walked back to the hotel.

After nine and one half hours of superb sleep (recent record), I awake
from the dead in desperate need of coffee.  As I make my pilgrimage
along the seawall toward Costa Brava for a quiet breakfast and make my
turn down Calle 7 at the post office, there is almost no traffic to
drown out the swish of waves on the rocks.  A van approaching from one
direction swerves to make a quick illegal U-turn, right in front of an
on coming scooter who locks up his front break with a squeal and tumbles
head over heels onto the pavement, while the scooter's motor races in
neutral.

The rider, a former US marine, rolls twice and comes up standing, nary a
scratch, but madder than a hornet.  I guess we raise 'em tough.  :-)
The guy in the van is long gone as I help the guy get his scooter out of
the road and surreptitiously check him out for more serious damage.  But
he's OK and I get a high five in return as thanks for my concern.

With coffee on my mind I walk past the hideous mall-like monstrosity of
a structure being erected to support the cruise ship trade.  The few
that own most everything in Cozumel and wield significant power and
influence have fallen prey to the lure of cruise ship dollars and seem
bent on reshaping Cozumel in the image of Cancun.  As Bob has observed
in a previous post, jewelry stores now line the entire downtown
waterfront.  This new mall structure is supposed to funnel all of the
'pod people' fresh off the mother ship through a select group of shops
in a controlled manner and then dump them out onto the street.  In the
words of one local, "…it's just more of the same, and the same people
own everything."

In contrast, breakfast at Costa Brava is like the good old days of Coz,
out in the open air among bird song.  I sit on handmade chairs, at a
handmade table covered with a handmade tablecloth.  The coffee always
has a slight hint of cinnamon, the juice always fresh, the breakfast
tacos are best with their special homemade hot salsa, and the same
waiter has served it over the fifteen years that I've eaten there.

Several years ago the original Costa Brava restaurant was evicted from
their former location across from the Barracuda Hotel to make way for
this new architectural eyesore of a mall, and is now relegated to a back
street overlooking the ass-end of the new construction product.  I ask
them what they think about the new mall.  They reply with a shrug that
they hope it will be good for business.

At 10:00a we meet the Caballito boat on the pro dive pier across from
the Bahia.  Today we are diving with two jovial Italians, calling
themselves Mac and Mark, from a small town on the Swiss border, both
here on vacation with their girlfriends.  We drop Sue at La Cebia's dock
to solo dive the shallow plane wreck as a test for her ears.

Although my sinuses appear clear on the boat and my ears seems to clear
easily down to about 40', a sharp pain in my forehead sinus is
debilitating.  No matter where I am in the water column, up or down, the
pain is excruciatingly the same.  After five minutes of this torture, I
wave 'bye-bye' and abort the dive.  It is after considerable snorting
and blowing on the surface that I finally clear the blockage and the
pain.

Fortunately my sinuses are fine on the second dive to Las Palmas and the
Caballito divemaster lives up to his employer's namesake, finding us not
one, but two 6" seahorses!  Bob is particularly excited since this is
his first Coz seahorse that he's found in some 1000 dives on this
island.  They are rare in Cozumel.  Back on the surface in the distance,
we see a single Black Shark boat, the only one we see all weekend.

A siesta is in order after a lunch of lime soup and guacamole salad at
La Choza.  That evening, we try a 'new' place for dinner, called the
French Quarter, serving 'authentic' 'coon-ass' Cajun cooking.  Mike the
owner says he's from Louisiana, but his accent sounds more like east
Texas drawl to me.  :-)

The etouffee stuffed snapper with the stuffed baked potato that I order
is mediocre at best.  The real give away that this restaurant is a
'wanna be' is that none of the dishes are served with rice, except, I
assume, the 'beans and rice'.  In a real Cajun restaurant everything is
served with rice and one must be precise in ordering anything.  For
example, 'I'll have the hamburger with lettuce, tomato, mustard, but no
rice and no pickle.  And for dessert, I'll have ice cream, but hold the
rice."  :-)

From the overly priced wine list ($160 for a bottle of late year Silver
Oak) to the absolutely inedible hush puppies (supposedly there has been
a mix-up between corn meal and corn flour) I give it a thumbs down,
particularly when dinner for three with only two glasses of house wine
comes to about $100 US.  Ouch!

We stroll to the "fruit drink/ice cream shop" just past the southeast
side of the square to get refills for our rooms.  I get an orange drink
and Sue and Bob experiment with some new flavors.  Bob can give you an
expert description of the place and their products.  I don't know what's
in their drinks, (probably something illegal and addictive), but they
taste great.

After another good night's sleep I satisfy my morning caffeine needs at
Rock 'n Java, a place that is also one of Chuck and Jeannie's
favorites.  Located just town-side of the Barracuda Hotel, it's an oasis
for those faced with the awful fare served from Barracuda's
dysfunctional kitchen.  Although I haven't stayed at the Barracuda in
several years, Rock 'n Java's food, service, and atmosphere is well
worth the short walk from town.  When visiting don't miss the pics of
eagle rays on the walls and be sure to drop a donation in the kitty for
the Cozumel Humane Society.

My last day of diving is with Bob and Sue, two German couples, and a
Cancoonian (that can't be right).  We stare in amazement as one of the
German divers suits up in a 7mil semi-dry suit for the 80F/27C water, as
the dive master wrestles a 15 kilo weight belt to the back of the boat.
Sue's ears seem to be OK on our first dive of the day to the Columbia
wall, and a spectacular wall it is!  The architecture of reef in bold
pinnacles towering overhead is amazing and inspiring.

The second dive is on Yucab where we see the usual Cozumellian
underwater critters …splendid toad fish, queen triggers, ocean triggers,
starfish, juvenile, intermediate & adult trunk fish, a beautiful
intermediate French angel, lobsters, juvenile & adult spotted drum,
barracuda, a big puffer fish, all the adult angels, and a little
golden-eyed burr fish.  It was a great last dive of my trip.

After cleaning up the equipment, taking a hot shower, and grabbing a
bite to eat, I settle in a comfortable chair on the balcony to read, and
watch the sunset.  Dinner tonight is at Azul Cobalto.

We start with a carpaccio of fresh fish and beef in herbs, followed by a
'seizure' (perfect Caesar) salad.  Main course is a beef filet garnished
with a garlic-spinach puree, mushrooms and buttons of melted gruyere
cheese.  The compliment of vegetables is garlic mashed potatoes with
steamed broccoli, carrots, and green beans.  Yum!

Deserts and coffee follow.  Sue has profiteroles, I have tiny
raisin-apple empanadas in a strawberry sauce with homemade cinnamon ice
cream, and Bob has a slice of ice cream cake large enough for a family
of five!  However, nothing was left.  I think that it's safe to say that
the quality of food in Cozumel, while always good, is continuing to
improve.  Unfortunately, so are the prices.

Once again on our stroll back to the hotel through the square.  A local
girl calls out for Mr. Miyagi's autograph.  This time Bob is ready with
a prepared answer, 'My name is not Miyagi, I'm Arnold Schwartznegger!'
This is met with an absolutely blank stare from the girl.  We move on,
the 'moovie' star Miyagi accompanied by his naughty secretary, Sue and
his sleazy press agent, Crusty.

Early Monday morning it is rainy and dark and only few boats are at the
pier to pick up reluctant divers.  I have breakfast with Bob and Sue and
by 9:45a their boat is waiting, the rain has stopped, and the sky is
showing signs of clearing in the south.  After hugs and goodbyes they
head off to their boat and I finish packing for the flight home in two
hours.  What a great long weekend!