Tonight we walked back to our room on the dimly lit pathway (sorry if I killed any of your family members, you hidden lizards) with Monica, the woman we met at the airport who is traveling from Sioux Falls South Dakota with her sister Sharon.
Monica has never been to a Club Med before but Sharon has.
I don't think either of them were exactly into my ice-breaking "games" while waiting for our delayed charter, but they were good sports nonetheless.
Monica told us Sharon has been comparing this resort in the Bahamas to the one in Cancun, and when we asked what that meant, she just sighed and said," I wish we were in Cancun."
Me too, Monica..me too.
The sisters are experiencing worse problems than we are. The maintenance man cannot fix their shower(because they are unfixable) but their front door was broken for two days.
And today, they woke up to a "passed out drunk" near their patio who was wearing bright red clown shoes.
Monica called security.
(No, I'm not making this stuff up..who could??)
Anyone who reads my vacation journals and blogs knows this is part of my schtick. To complain non-stop, to be the anti-traveling traveler.
I try to channel other malcontents like Jim Gaffigan and David Sedaris..writers I idolize for their cynicism and snark.
But tonight, my friend Bruce, (a loyal blog reader) called my bluff and wondered if I'm seriously joking, or jokingly serious.
He said I make Club Med Columbus Isle in San Salvador sound like it's held together by Band-Aids and chewing gum, and there's a possibility that he's..spot on.
Look..it's only Monday.
OMG!!
It's ONLY Monday!!???
What if things actually go downhill from here???!!
The staff worked very hard to get the pool deck ready for White Night. There were dazzling lights strung everywhere, even an archway covered with flowers and sparklers as you made your way to your poolside table. It looked beautiful, but we were told(in French, no less) that we might have to move inside because of the wind and the wet ground.
So we're gathered, all of the three hundred or so of us barely washed guests, waiting to see where we'd be seated for the dinner we were all starving for..if we were to be seated at all.
This isn't Club Med..it's "Survivor."
Full disclosure: We are still mad fanatics of the Club Med experience, and we really believe it's your best bet for a beach vacation that's filled with sunshine and camaraderie.
But this, perhaps, isn't the best place to get that vibe.
It USED to be..it's our third time here and it was once considered a four or five trident(aka star) resort. It was closed for years, even pre-dating the Covid outbreak, and they only reopened in late October, but they clearly weren't ready.
As I stated earlier, they can't really do much about the rugged surf or seaweed, but they knew about the water pressure and should have disclosed the problem as soon as we signed up. It seems to be every guest's favorite topic, and they always add, "wow..I thought it was just me!"
After a long delay, we were seated poolside and treated to some wonderful live singing.
I was starting to get that good ole Club Med feeling again, until I ventured inside to see the overcrowded buffet and a dozen people grabbing serving spoons with no masks on. That's OK..I'm prepared to come home with Covid.
It's those OTHER issues that are totally consuming me, totally preying upon my out of control "Karenoia."
It was too dark to actually see what I was eating in that tiny table set up precariously by the pool, but my sense of taste and smell were acute, and I know the taste of frozen solid brussels sprouts, one of many items served cold or partially frozen from the buffet.
Who wouldn't have noticed that in advance?
The General Manager(aka "Chief de Village) introduced the kitchen staff responsible for this grand buffet, and they were strutting to the podium, sashaying to the music while encouraging guests to wave their white linen napkins up in the air to cheer them on for a job well done.
I waved mine in a gesture that clearly stated " I surrender."
The staff was being led onstage and Jim swore the sous chef was introduced as " E Coli."
Oh, and the chief was trying to turn lemons into lemonade, so he sets up this enormous display of champagne glasses into an impressive tower.
As soon as the last glass was placed on top(with the champagne ready to be poured) a gust of wind suddenly topples the tower, nearly hitting the talented singer and shattering glass everywhere..on the POOL deck..where people are going to be walking without SHOES on tomorrow.
They tended to the problem right away, but who can see every tiny shard in the pitch dark?
And the pool is our only option, unless those waves slow down and the seaweed magically disappears.
There was a nice display of fireworks at the end of the evening, but even that wasn't enough to take away the bad taste of frozen sprouts from my mouth.
(For the love of God, Karen, stop being a Karen!)
There is a silver lining here..Jim and I are laughing hysterically at all of these atrocities, making fun of ourselves and our luck.
We'll be back to Club Med, and when I win the largest jackpot in lottery history, I'm taking all my Facebook friends with me.
Only maybe one of the Club Med locations with limited flies and with working shower heads.
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