Arrived in Puerto Vallarta last night. Hadn't gotten out of the airport when we were stopped and asked which hotel we were going to. I smelled a rat, but when he said we had a complementary ride to our hotel it got Rebecca's attention. He brought us to Jose, who was a very nice guy and told us all about the town before he invited us to sit through a "vacation club" presentation, and right then and there I was filled with dread and wanted to run out of the airport as fast as possible but he said the magic words (in third person)--"and you'll help Jose get a little commission"--and so it seemed like some sort of Mexican welfare project which we could hardly refuse, especially when he was smiling so nice and nearly hyperventilating with anticipation and kindly offered to pick us up from church and give us great prices on an island tour and yada yada yada. And that's how we found ourselves having breakfast with a hundred other cheap, pathetic tourists paying dearly for their freebies at the Villa la Something and getting pushed into a sales funnel where we were all but stripped naked and fitted for our sales potential and while several of the representatives were very nice the big sales closer was like a Mexican Gilbert Godrey and yelled at us for an hour and wrote at least 150 numbers down on a paper with a green felt pen and never wrote down a single explanation of what the numbers represented but the correct answer to his seemingly endless equation was that it was a "no-brainer," and both of us being brain-dead Rebecca and I applied a different calculus and politely declined and if only that were that but there was more and finally we left under duress and emotionally battered and if anyone ever asks you if they can give you absolutely anything in exchange for sitting through a "This is NOT a Time Share" presentation tell them you would rather have a needle poked in your eyes. Or better yet, poked in his.
On a lighter note, the Fiesta Americana Hotel is very nice and this afternoon we went downtown to the boardwalk in town, which has the most eclectic and extraordinary array of bronze statues. Ate at Jim Jack's Fish Shack, which was small but very good. Great fresh produce, particulary the jicama, cucumbers, avocado and pico de gallo. Then back to the hotel to watch the Red Sox win Game 7 over the Indians, an event hardly marred by the television commentary being entirely in Spanish, which to me sounded like blah blah blah blah Fenway Park blah blah blah blah Manny Ramirez, etc. But the language spin was enough to make Rebecca sort of dig it.
And I should also mention that everyone says it is sunny every day here and hardly ever rains for more than an hour a day except since we arrived because there is a tropical storm somewhere off the coast and so it has been steadily drizzling and overcast. But that didn't stop some of the guests at our hotel from laying out on the poolside chaise lounges, which seems like an excruciating waste of time but still infinitely more enjoyable than discussing vacation opportunities with Gilbert Godfrey.
No comments:
Post a Comment