Playa del Carmen, Day 2

When we arrived in country, there was a very nice "travel specialist" who welcomed us to the country. Since we were married, he could get us a free excursion.  We really wanted to go scuba diving.  So, he told us all the things we should avoid (carrying our passports/driver's licenses/credit cards with us, agreeing on prices with taxis before getting into the cab, etc).  Then he showed us a neat timeshare new resort we could visit where we would get free breakfast and a quick 45 minute tour, and then we would get 2 free scuba diving tickets.  Sounds nice, huh?  We got suckered into it, so day 2 started with a brisk walk to our front gate to meet the driver who would take us to our free breakfast.  Of course, we had since decided it would not be worth spending 1 of our 3 days at a timeshare new resort, but we had PROMISED.  So, we got to the gate where a black SUV with tinted windows and missing handles was waiting for us.  In a nutshell, things were not going well, so we decided to NOT go to the breakfast.  Too many weird feelings.  So, we went back to our own resort for breakfast.  

This is what we had to wake up to every morning.  Here I'm standing at the threshold of our sliding glass door.

Here I'm standing on the edge of our patio.

Here I am looking back at our room.  Notice the reflection of me waving at you!

Here, Shelly is shutting our door, which locked, with all of our key cards on the inside.

After breakfast, we found a scuba diving excursion.  It started with a 1-hour video introduction to scuba diving.  Then we got a quick snack of cookies (important for later) and mango juice.  Then we went to the water to try our hand at scuba diving.

My cute wife, ready to go

Shelly underwater, only about 5 feet at this point

Shelly, 40 feet down, waiting for the instructor and me.

Still waiting.  One member of our group was unable to equalize the pressure behind her ears and had to resurface.  We waited at the bottom.

A picture of plant and fish life 40 feet down.  Somewhere in there is something stung my leg.  Even now, 6 weeks later, the wound is still on my leg and still itches--but not as bad as it did! 

Another pic of Shelly underwater.

A collection of fish by a tunnel

A closer look at the fish.

A picture of me scaring the fish away (I blame the brilliance whiteness) and checking out the tunnel.

On the bottom, I began to feel nauseous.  I think it was the salt taste.  Several other things contributed: tunnel vision, the boat ride to the dive spot (6 foot waves all the way out), the sting, who knows what else.  Needless to say, I did a lot of hyperventilating to help keep the nausea away.  It also made me run out of air quicker than anyone else.  So, after about 45 minutes, we had to surface.  I was still feeling sick.  When we got to 15 feet to decompress, I started feeling the waves again and started feeling even sicker.  Suddenly, I couldn't hold it anymore and raced to the surface.  Just as I reached surface I tossed my cookies (haha--get it?).  It took a bit, but I finally got it all out.  But, as a note, just think of this the next time you have to vomit.  How would you ever do it under water?  After you expel all that stuff from your stomach, you immediately take a big gasp of air.  I guess you have to vomit into your regulator while holding the button that expels the air.  Sounds too complex.  I'm just glad I made it to the surface (just in the knick of time).  Anyway, I'd go scuba diving again, but I would want calmer water and probably fresh water next time.

We returned to our resort and had a nice dinner in one of the restaurants (unfortunately, I did not have any nice clothes, so our choices of restaurants were a little limited) and had a buffet.  We also discovered the bars serve virgin drinks and enjoyed some delicious drinks.  To finish the night off, we went to an Elvis concert.  

Elvis puttin' on a good show.  We stayed for about 1/2 hour then decided we needed some sleep after 2 days of not sleeping in.