At the very tip of the Yucatan peninsula is a beautiful hotel built along the lines of a Mayan structure. Its architecture is an homage to the people who lived in the area a thousand years ago. It is Dreams Cancun, and because of its location at the “end” of Mexico in the southwestern direction, it is surrounded by the turquoise Caribbean Sea. The sun has bleached the sand to a white powder. Everything is perfect on many levels. Honeymooners and retirees love it. But families, even those with small children, seem to have as much fun as anyone.
I was invited along with travel writers from around the world to attend the launch of Dreams Cancun’s “Delphinus” program. It was a chance to swim with the dolphins, and I happily accepted the invitation.
The month was June, and no doubt about it, Cancun is hot, hot, hot in the summertime. By the time I was shown to my room it was after lunchtime, and I had spent the last six hours either in one of three airports or waiting on the curb for the hotel van to pick me up. I was dripping with sweat. It was too much to civilize it by calling it perspiration. I realized I was also hungry. I was impressed with the Mayan-sculpted hotel, and had I not been so uncomfortable I would have dropped my belongings in my room and set out to explore the premises and find a restaurant. I was, however, reluctant to venture back out into the heat. My room was wonderfully icy, and the decision had to be made between cool and hungry or hot and well-fed.
The dilemma was solved by a soft knock on my door. It was a lady with a big bowl of fruit and a bottle of ice-cold champagne, along with a welcome note from the hotel management. I thanked her as she uncorked the champagne and set up table service for me. It was, in that instant, “comfort food.”
I wandered out to the balcony overlooking the dolphin pool to enjoy the champagne. The dolphins were at play, jumping in and out of the water as the trainers put them through their paces. The incessant heat washed over me again, and I realized I could see the dolphins almost as clearly from the comfort on the cool side of the glass doors to my room. The fruit was ripe and juicy and perfect as I washed it down with the champagne.
That evening, the writers gathered in a rooftop party room for introductions and more food. Martinis were the elixir of choice along with trays of hors d’oeuvres passed around by white-coated servers. I’m not a fan of martinis, but the server suggested I might like the chocolate version of a vodka martini. He seemed most unhappy to leave me as the only person in the room without a drink in her hand, so I accepted the mud-colored martini.
As I took a sip I noticed a Hershey’s kiss in the bottom of the glass. When no one was looking, I inched my way to the far edge of the crowd and turned my back. I quickly scooped the kiss out with one finger. It was the work of no more than two seconds to melt the kiss in my mouth, lick my finger and pour most of the drink into a potted palm. It’s a trick I learned years ago. One must be careful to keep some of the liquid in the glass when transferring the drink to a potted plant, thereby forestalling the waiter from offering another drink. It is sometimes difficult to retain one’s dignity during the maneuver; therefore, it must not be attempted without a high degree of confidence that comes with years of practice.
When all the writers were sufficiently inebriated, we were ushered into a delightful restaurant, where we enjoyed a steak dinner. I’m also not a steak fan, but I did not want to push my luck. I opted to eat whatever was set before me. We had a great and good time as we got to know one another. My dinner companion was a writer from Sports Illustrated. Trying to strike up a sports-oriented conversation, I told him I was devoted to world-class tennis, and I asked him his opinion of Andy Murray. He treated me to a blank stare and told me he didn’t know the name. After searching my memory bank for a topic in another sport, and coming up with nothing, I decided I would leave the conversation choice up to him. He didn’t seem the least bit undone by his failure at dinner table chit-chat, and I decided I shouldn’t let it bother me either. We spent the rest of the meal chewing our steaks.
After a sumptuous dessert (also chocolate-laced) we were off to the hotel’s nightclub to watch a dazzling performance by a Cuban band. Cuban music is very popular in all of Mexico. With the colored lights and salsa music, it was a fine way to top off the evening.
But the biggest thrill of all came the next morning. After a fantastic breakfast in a tent specially set up for the occasion, we heard some welcoming words and were instructed as to when it would be our time to swim with the dolphins.
Later, in a special room, we were divided into groups and given life jackets. We were shown a movie about dolphins, and an instructor told us what was considered proper visitor etiquette when we entered the dolphins’ domain.
He told us that under no circumstances were we to hold onto the dolphins’ dorsal fins. We were to stroke them as much as we liked, because they enjoyed it. He asked if any of us were pregnant or any of us were in a bad mood. No one owned up to either condition. He spoke of the dolphins’ acute sensitivity. They could tell if anyone was pregnant, mean-spirited or worse, both. The animals avoided anyone in either condition. He told us a story about the hotel’s employees being pressed into service as guests when the dolphins first came to the hotel. No one admitted to being pregnant. When they entered the pool, the dolphins avoided one girl, and she was very disappointed. That evening, she took a pregnancy test and surprise, surprise, she was indeed pregnant. The dolphins knew it before she did.
As soon as we entered the Dolphinus pool, two very friendly dolphins greeted us. We had been told they loved to be stroked. The dolphins weaved around the seven of us as we ran our hands over their sleek backs. We enjoyed it as much as they seemed to like it.
The instructor told us to line up at one end of the pool and to shout a word (which I no longer remember). The dolphins were nowhere to be seen. As we yelled the word, the dolphins shot from the water behind us and soared over our heads to dive into the water once again. All I can say is it was thrilling.
We were in the water for about an hour as the trainer put both the dolphins and their visitors through exercises designed to delight all of us. The animals danced for us, waved to us, kissed us, and gave us a ride across the water as they pushed the bottoms of our feet with their snouts. It was an experience I will never forget, and one I highly recommend. There is a special children’s program that is a never-to-be-forgotten experience for kids 3 to 12 years old.
The hotel grounds and various buildings are beautiful, and it is all-inclusive. Eat, drink, play all you want for one price. My press trip included two nights at Dreams Cancun and two at Dreams Tulum if I wished. I could have spent four nights at Dreams Cancun. Because I am interested in the Maya culture and its history, I spent two nights at Dreams Tulum. It is a brand new property, and it is so beautiful. The hotel van took me down the road to Tulum and the next day, I went to the ruins left behind by the Maya.
It was this trip that gave me my fascination with Things Mayan. I have now read and studied the Maya with great interest. Many of their descendants live within a few miles of the temple ruins. The people who lived there in the early so long ago were sophisticated beyond their historic times. Their calendar is said to be more accurate than the Gregorian calendar. They were expert astronomers. The guide showed us the tiny holes in temple walls where on particular nights, the moon sends a single beam through the opening to illuminate a religious icon on the opposite wall.
I’ve been to Tulum several times. The last time I was there was in 2011. Previous to that time the temple ruins were closed at dark. They are now open until 11 p.m., and lit by colored lights. A guide is provided with each group.
It is quite a sight. As I said to my readers when I was a travel writer, of all the wonderful places I have been, Mexico is the best. And best of the best is the Yucatan, where the presence of the ancient Maya is still felt, and seems as real as their descendants who cherish their culture and willingly share it with interested visitors.