With a bit of exasperation, after I’d said I couldn’t remember the name of the resort I was staying at, I had no side trips planned, I wasn’t going to Chichen Itza or Tulum, wasn’t going to golf – a colleague said “So, you just gave WestJet all your money and you are going to turn up at a resort and lie on the beach?”
Yes, that is exactly what I am going to do. There is culture, there is history, good food, music. I could go see some of it – I have a bit of money in my budget to do just that, but really, I’m going to have a mojito and read another chapter of a trashy novel. That’s what sun and humidity and the ocean mean to me.
I’ll stand in the ocean, let the waves break over me and I’ll think back to that magical night in 2010 – I’ll hear the words to the song they played on the boat, as I sat with a bottle of Red Stripe in my hands- when I get older, I will be wiser.
And briefly – I’ll ask the ocean. I am older now – am I wiser?
There was this family I got to talking to on the beach. A few sisters, a few brothers in law. From Idaho of all places. They marvelled that I was here alone. They thought I was brave (or possibly they were too polite to tell me I was strange.)
The woman in Jamaica – the one who wondered if she would be wiser when she was older?
Even the 22 year old me who got married and promised forever.
I am older. And I am wiser.