We woke to a bright, sunny day. How could a hurricane be a day away? The TV had no reports about Mitch. Curt asked at the desk and they indicated Mitch was now a tropical storm and not a serious threat to the Yucatan Peninsula. The double red flag alert was dropped and everything along the coast had been reopened. Curt checked with the waiter at yesterday's restaurant who had painted a bad picture the day before and he concurred that all was clear. We rescheduled our return flight back to Saturday to get our full vacation and also order vegan meals for the plane ride. Woo-hoo!

Missy and Eric were initially a little disappointed in the change of plans. They had made the mental mindset change that they'd be home this day. It wasn't long before they were glad we stayed.

Puerto Moreles, the small town that was closed a couple nights ago, was where we wanted to spend our last night of this vacation. We had PBBBs for breakfast during the drive then found a beachfront hotel that was in the process of reopening and got a room, our seventh of this fifteen day vacation, for $35. As they prepared our room we played on the beach. Puerto Moreles has a long, magnificent reef–a snorkerler's paradise–about 100 meters offshore. Normally, a good swimmer can swim there from the beach though in this weather (clear skies but windy) and without a life jacket, one would be foolish to try. As no boats were running, we could only watch the white water breaking over the reef.

The beaches were deserted as people hadn't returned after fleeing the coast so we felt comfortable skinny dipping.

Curt cashed the last $100 of our traveler's checks to pay for the room then we sought out a restaurant. No restaurants in Puerto Moreles were open. We drove 20 miles farther south to the larger town of Playa del Carmen, our old haunt. Tourists had already returned here. Curt exchanged a hammock we had bought in Playa earlier (Missy found a couple of tears in it) and eventually found one he liked. The storekeeper, a good fellow, only had one other American-size, family-size hammock in stock–his floor model. A family-size hammock can hold (it is claimed) up to six people. As he bagged the hammock, the shopkeeper's bracelet (loaded with odd shaped charms) snagged on it. That seems a poor choice of jewelry to wear in that job.

While Curt swapped hammocks, Missy and Eric had planned to order food at the vegetarian restaurant we frequented during our earlier stay in Playa. They struck out. They could not find the restaurant. Curt searched with them and we found that the restaurant was closed and unrecognizable. A tree had been blown over onto it. Blue sheeting covered the former entrance and the repairmen working behind it.

We lunched at our other favorite Playa restaurant. Famished, we ordered two tofu and two falafel sandwiches and three strawberry/melon liquados (the waiter asked multiple times if we wanted that much). We sat next to and chatted with an American who had come to Playa for five days to visit a friend. He said it rained nearly the entire time. We spent some time on the beach and in the water (Curt playfully skinny-dipping on a crowded beach in water over his waist). We shopped the Playa plaza (Missy bought a dress) and not finding anything for Eric, we went to the supermarket/department store and got him a bucket of soldiers and military vehicles. Boy toys.

On our return to Puerto Moreles we hit the beach until it got dark. Curt and Eric doffed their swimsuits yet again and ran nude along the beach and into the water. An invigorating experience.

Curt and Eric did a little crabbing with a flashlight, finding lots of crab holes but only one crab. Eating the last PBBBs of our vacation for dinner and quenching our thirst with mango juice, we played card games and soldiers with Eric's newest toys before calling it a night–almost. The air conditioner was not working. Curt and the front desk people tried to find the problem and a repairman was eventually called. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to fix it until the next day. It was strange, the electrical cord from the air conditioner was not plugged into an outlet, it went into the wall. Someplace inside the wall or wherever the cord eventually ended we had lost juice. This would be our first night in Mexico without air conditioning. Eric fell asleep easily but Curt and Missy tossed and turned for about an hour; trying to adjust the sliding door to let in a cool breeze (it was windy) while still maintaining some sense of security. Finally and luckily Curt discovered that the ceiling fan, which was spinning rather slowly, was in fact on its lowest speed (a setting of 1 means fastest, 5 means slowest). After turning up the fan's speed, the breeze cooled us off enough to enable a good night's sleep.
 

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