“Can you send somebody now? Please?” I implored the woman on the phone frantically from my car parked in front of our next Airbnb, my voice an octave higher than normal. “Donna. Take it down a notch. She’s only trying to help,” Lyn, who was sitting beside me, chimed in.
“Don’t tell me how to speak!” I barked back at him.
“She’s just trying to help…,” he whispered.
My stress level was extremely high. This was to be our second Airbnb, the one ON the beach, and already things weren’t going as planned. We had left Merida early — 9:41 a.m., to be exact — carting most of our stuff (sans the pets) so we would arrive as close to “check-in” time (10 a.m.) as was possible. We had at least two more trips and a stop at Walmart to get everything moved. Travel time between our former and our future Airbnb is 30-minutes each way, making it an expected three-hours driving time for the day. That’s a lot.
When we arrived, no one was at the house. Fortunately, the rental managers were wonderful — even after my hysterical pleading) and gave us a way to drop off our “load” and return for the second one, at which time their employee would be at the house. By the time we completed the second trip, the people were indeed here, and our new home was waiting for us.
On trip number three, we first swung by the grocery store to pick up supplies, since we don’t know where anything is here at the beach. It took longer and cost more than expected, but I’m getting used to that (ugh). By the time we got everything done and wrangled the animals into the car for the last drive, it was 4:00 p.m. But we had the beach to look forward to!
So, although things got off to a bit of a rocky start, the change of location has been almost magical. Two days into our beach lifestyle and I’m already feeling calmer and more optimistic.
It’s always something…
Not that things have been a piece of cake; there have been Internet issues every day that have been frustrating and disruptive. Again, the rental managers have been on the job, sorting things out so we can continue to work and live. And, as expected, Jack escaped at one point, and Mocha, well, she’s never happy anyway.
Change of Airbnb changes everything
With every different place, the issues change. For example, at the first place, everything was so small — even the coffee cups! The place was pretty well stocked and well decorated, but there was no oven, so I couldn’t really cook much. We ate lots of spaghetti, breakfast for dinner, and an occasional rotisserie chicken over pre-packaged salad. Of course, there were tacos, as there was a great place right around the corner. Fortunately, I packed the extension cords, since electrical outlets in Mexico are scarce. That place was no exception.
Now, at the beach, there are different quirks. For example, the kitchen shears is rusted shut, there is no measuring cup, and water pressure is non-existent. And, while there is a washing machine, there is no clothesline. Like I said earlier, though, the rental managers are on it — we should have one tomorrow.
Despite it all, we have a king-sized bed in an air-conditioned room, a pool and the beach just outside the door. The gulf water is warm and the slope of the shore is gentle, so you can go quite a way out and still stand up in the water. Even Izzy is enjoying her walks on the beach, which we weren’t certain she would, as she’s never seen the beach before.
Lyn has his A/C and I have my beach. Everyone has what they want most.
It doesn’t get much better than that!