Vacationing During the Pandemic

July is traditionally when we take our annual “fly-and-flop” vacation. We usually go somewhere south of the equator (usually an all-inclusive) and lounge around a pool or beach with lots of books and sweet, frozen drinks in hand. We eat lots of salty, buttery seafood with our fingers and wash it down with crisp, cold beers. We sleep late, get massages, wear the same bathing suits, t-shirts and shorts every day, and are just generally lazy and totally checked out.

This year’s July vacation was, understandably, different. But also, in many of the most fundamental and meaningful ways, the same.

We were supposed to be at this place in Antigua. But then…well, we all know what happened.

So we had to switch gears.

Luckily, we had some experience on vacationing during a pandemic. Earlier this year we had reserved a cabin with a hot tub in North Carolina, near Asheville for late March. We had paid a lot of money and the agent/owner seemed reluctant to refund it, so we went (this was pre-state-stay-at-home order days).

Isn’t it gorgeous. The owner sold it right after our stay. Listed for $423,000 and it got SNATCHED up.

We had made a couple of dinner reservations in Asheville, so we cancelled those. Then we loaded up the car with all our own food, drinks, and cleaning supplies, and drove all day to the cabin. When we got there, and before we brought anything in, we opened up all the doors and windows to air the place out and cleaned everything with bleach.

The views were pretty great.

We spent the next week going on long hikes in the state and national forests, reading books and cooking fantastic meals. It was a great break from the craziness and a chance to reconnect and recharge. We came home literally the day after Virginia’s governor announced the stay-at-home order for the state.

When deciding what we wanted to do for our July vacation, we knew two things for sure: we wanted to have a private pool and it needed to be within close driving distance. That’s when my personal travel agent and life partner, XFE found this place in Charlottesville.

Photo courtesy of Stay Charlottesville

I’m not going to lie: it was weird to drive to Charlottesville and not stop at any wineries. We love the wineries on the way down there and I did get a little pang in my heart when we saw the signs for some of them.

But, it is a gorgeous home and we were there the hottest week of the year, so we were very grateful for that pool. We also sat up on the rooftop deck watching the fireflies in the evenings, which was wonderful.

We did the same cleaning protocol as before. And it’s a good thing we did bring all our own cleaning supplies, because while the place is beautifully decorated, it was not the cleanest place we had ever been in. Just one example, we had to throw out the sponge in the sink because it had become a breeding ground for nasty little fruit flies. Luckily, we had a new sponge in our supplies. Also: yes, we did complain to the management company, and yes, we got the cleaning fee refunded.

Always, always, always bring your own bleach wipes (and masks)

Also, the owner did make his presence known: He was there cleaning the pool when we showed up 20 minutes before our check-in time of 4 p.m. And, he dropped by a couple of days later unannounced to skim the pool and top it off. All of which was a little disconcerting and a little less private/hands-off than we would have liked, especially during a pandemic. I get the impression he’s a reluctant renter.

I wouldn’t want to rent out this place either: it’s gorgeous!

We kept the vacation menu very easy: lots of dips, meats, cheeses, crackers and chips, plus hot dogs and sausages on rolls. We also had our traditional seafood, but this time in the form of XFE’s famous shrimp rolls. We brought our own beer and rose, as well as a bunch of fun, canned mixed drinks to drink in the pool, like sangria and Italian margaritas featuring lemoncello.

Our last day of vacation, XFE turned to me and said he thought this vacation was as good as any of our trips to Mexico or other fly-and-flop destinations and I have to agree. We had everything we needed and it served the same purpose – relax, recharge and reconnect with one another. Plus, we didn’t have to fly anywhere, there was no monster seaweed, and nobody had any stomach issues whatsoever. So I guess it’s Corona-Vacations for the win.

The Battle for Mexico’s Beaches

It hits you in the face the minute you open a door or window. A virtual presence that is so primal, your brain goes into full denial, telling you it can’t possibly be what you think it is. Perhaps that disconnect is made all the more dissonant by the fact that you are quite literally walking out the door into a verdant paradise, where as far as the eye can see everything is perfect and manicured and designed to delight the senses.

But there is one sense that is definitely not delighted….

People, let me tell you about sargassum.

Photo from the Mexicanist

Sargassum, also known as Sargasso, stinks no matter what it’s called. It’s a seaweed (or microalgae) that is choking beaches from Mexico to the Caribbean to northern Florida. Here’s what Chemical & Engineering News (not my regular literary diet, but, ok) says about it:

Sargassum wasn’t a regular sight outside its native arena in the Sargasso Sea until 2011. That year, enormous mats of the algae started brewing farther south, in the central Atlantic, eventually washing onto beaches on the eastern and southern coasts of many Caribbean islands. By 2018, the mats had grown into the largest macroalgae bloom in recorded history, an 8,850 km long mass extending from the central Atlantic and Caribbean Sea to West Africa and the Gulf of Mexico. Chunks of Sargassum, circulated by ocean currents, now regularly wash ashore in the Caribbean, where they rot on the beaches, giving off a strong, sulfurous stench.”

That is putting it mildly. We had heard slight whispers about the sargassum problem when we first started researching our last-minute, mid-summer trip to Mexico, specifically, the Secrets Maroma Beach. But we thought it was just a bunch of seaweed washing up on the pristine white beaches and making them slightly less Instagrammable. Since we planned to spend most of our time lounging on the patio of our swim-up room or under an umbrella around the thoughtfully designed pool areas, we didn’t think it would bother us too much.

(Basically, us. Photo from Secrets Maroma Beach website)

Other than an occasional morning walk, we really don’t spend that much time on the beach and we don’t pick our vacation destinations based on the quality of the beaches. But there is so much more to sargassum than aesthetics. There’s that smell.

I would almost call it unrecognizable, but that’s not true. It is instinctually recognizable. In fact, we live in the lovely suburb called Old Town, which has a river-adjacent sewer system dating back to the late 1800s. So we are very familiar with the occasional, river-flooding-induced smell of excrement around these genteel streets lined with historic, million-dollar townhomes.

But this sargassum is a whole other poop game. And it is growing, reaching approximately 20 million tons, according to one NPR report. In fact, Inside Science noted:

“This spring, the seaweed invasion was comparable to last year’s, if not worse. In May, Mexico’s President Andrés Manuel López Obrador instructed the country’s navy to lead the beach-cleaning effort and to prevent the sargassum from reaching the coast. In June, the situation was so bad that the southeastern state of Quintana Roo — home of the tourist destination of Cancún — declared a state of emergency.”

And just like there would seem to be a disconnect between living in one of the most expensive areas in the Greater D.C. area and smelling sewage after every heavy rainstorm, so too, was it jarringly incongruent to smell the overwhelming stench of sulfide gas at the beautiful Secrets Maroma Beach, which happens to be in Quintana Roo.

Because SMB was gorgeous. Just beautiful. Here’s a description from Trip Advisor,

“Secrets Maroma Beach Riviera Cancun is tucked away on secluded Maroma Beach, voted the World’s Best Beach by the Travel Channel four years in a row. This unlimited-luxury heaven provides opulence to the most discerning traveler with a pure white sand beach, stunning ocean views stretching as far as the eye can see, elegant suites providing 24-hour room service, daily refreshed mini-bars and several of them with swim-out access to twelve smaller pools plus a shimmering infinity pool, gourmet dining options and chic lounges.”

Photo from the Secrets Maroma Beach website

And it’s true. You look at pictures of the beach (even recent ones) and it’s all white powdered sugar magical-ness. That’s because there are dozens and dozens of workers (aka: sargaceros) busting their butts to cart away literally TONS of seaweed around the clock. Trucks full of it. But they can’t cart away that smell.

Picture from a 2015 TripAdvisor review of SMB

Not to mention the fact that while sargassum might be bad for tourism in the region, it is even worse for coral, fish and other seagrasses. It smothers and destroys virtually everything in its path. Again from Inside Science:

“Since 2015, we have lost a significant number of seagrasses and they will take many decades to recover, assuming that the sargassum is controlled. If it continues to arrive, they will not recover. As of last year, we already began to record massive wildlife mortality — we began observing dead animals along the beach. Last year, we identified dead individuals of 78 species on the beaches, especially fish, but also crustaceans, lobsters, urchins, octopuses and others. As of May of last year, corals also began to die from a disease called “white syndrome.”

The good news is that there appears to be a season for sargassum. It’s not a year-round thing. The sargassum season runs roughly from April to August. And, the government, science community and resorts from Mexico to Florida are studying the issue carefully and trying to find solutions, everything from literal barriers in the ocean to finding alternative uses for the seaweed. Hopefully, they’ll come up with something before next year’s sargassum tide comes rolling in.  

Revisiting Vieques, Puerto Rico

Hi there! Things are chugging along at a very busy pace here at Poe Communications and Cat Box Management Engineers. New clients, new projects, new contracts…all very exciting stuff.

It’s been almost a year since I picked up my lemons and struck out on my own and the transition has been surprisingly smooth. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, the work to dry up or some other scary situation to arise, but so far…so good. My good fortune continues to freak me out on a daily basis.

To keep all the balls in the air, I’ve neglected my little blog here, which makes me very sad. BUT, that doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing. I have been and quite a bit, actually. Just not necessarily here.

One of the projects nearest and dearest to my heart has been the Project: Time Off blog. I get to work with my friend Katie and the rest of her fantastic team AND I get to write about travel, which is a dream come true.

I recently wrote about our trip to Vieques over there. Well, sort of. I wrote a “Splurge v. Steal” post about Vieques, but I’ll admit, I’m more of a “splurge” girl.

We did enter “steals” territory when it came to spending time beach hopping. Still, hands down our favorite thing to do in Vieques. We even got in a bit of snorkeling, which was surprisingly good. And they’re opening up new parts of the island every year, so we got to explore a few new places this time.

Vieques beach life

And then, there’s our second favorite, budget-friendly activity: chasing down food trucks. We made sure to stop by Sol again for the the best empanadas and we discovered the most amazing mofongo at a new-to-us food truck that, unfortunately, despite our best efforts, we were only able to track down once while we were there. I didn’t even get a picture of it!

Another new-to-us, “steal”-type activity was bunker hunting. As a former, U.S. military stronghold, Vieques is littered with hundreds of bunkers that were used for all sorts of storage. These concrete warehouses are nestled in the hills and jungles of the island and are covered with grass on top, so they can’t be seen from the air. It can also make for some fun off-roading. A lot of them are locked up, but a few are open, probably to dissuade people from busting the locks on all of them. They’re full of trash from the 1980s and 1990s, things like busted up old computers and educational manuals. Very spooky stuff.

Vieques bunkers

We also upped our “splurge” game by staying (and eating and drinking) a couple of night’s at Vieques’ newest hotel, El Blok. Review in summation: Gorgeous hotel, excellent service, great location, miniscule bathrooms and the hardest bed I’ve ever attempted to sleep on. We were definitely ready to move over to the W and their Dream Beds after a couple of nights. Also, the restaurant at El Blok is amazing and definitely worth a visit (you can read a full review from this blog here). We definitely felt that El Blok was a great restaurant that just happened to have a cool hotel attached to it, as opposed to a great hotel that has an above-par restaurant.

El Blok Vieques

Go over to PTO’s Upside of Downtime blog to read more about things to see and do in Vieques. It was a great trip and just reconfirmed how much we really love the laid back vibe of the place. By the last day, we were sitting on one of our deserted beaches talking about buying property on this tiny little jewel of an island.

Recovered wreckage in Vieques.
Recovered wreckage in Vieques.