Romance and gratitude

A couple of weeks back, I started writing down stuff in this gratitude journal. It's a pretty good one, makes you see life from a different angle.

Now, don't get me wrong, it's not like you suddenly appreciate everything and start imagining rainbows and unicorns everywhere. But you do notice the silver lining, and that's kinda cool!

Don't overthink it, though. My life's not falling apart; I'm still the same happy camper. This gratitude journal thing is a nice practice, even when you're already wondering what else to be grateful for. Somehow, you always find something new.

Now, usually, I'm the storyteller, but today I'm thankful for a colleague who shared how he proposed to his girlfriend on New Year's. It was a sweet, thoughtful, and low-key proposal—no flashy stuff or clichés, just genuine love for his partner.

Romance ain't dead, and I'm grateful just to know stories like that.

Mexico. Part 3. The naughty bit...

This is intended to be on the verge of scandalous. 

Here we are, round two in Mexico. Same spot, same sand, same crash pad. It's supposed to be eerie, and it is. Picture Zipolite beach: 2km of perfect blend between those who dare to bare and those who are wrapped tighter than a burrito. And at the end of this sandy heaven – Playa del Amor.

Now, you might think, at first sight, that Playa del Amor is exclusively for the LGBTQ crew, but if you squint hard enough, you'll spot some straight couples lost in the beachscape.

So, there I was, trying to chill under the shade of a massive rock on this scorching day. Truth be told, I wasn't on top of my game emotionally or physically. Yes, it was that time of the month, hence the burrito bikini. Let me tell you, that piece of fabric was more uncomfortable than a cactus pillow. It took ages to dry and on top of that, when I was laying on the sand, close enough for a wave to gently brush my body when I was elegantly performing no.1, I would get up with all of the Sahara sand in it. 

A million gloomy thoughts per minute, most of them crash-landed in negativity. I get those a lot lately, and I know their source. But airing it out is difficult. Long story short, I felt like a shipwreck. Joy was a no-show.

Across from me, lounging on a towel, was what seemed to be a woman. Long hair, tiny waist, fit as a fiddle. From certain angles, you could even catch a glimpse of her breasts. She rises, and surprise: she is a he. Or the other way round; they go for a swim, they return, plug in their headphones, and start to dance on their own. They kept at it, surrounded by a sea of people living their best lives. Joy, freedom, peace... all there. And I? I was in "Eastern European" shock.

I'm watching this human of pure energy, envying their zest for life. Meanwhile, I'm stuck in my sandy, grumpy bikini, afraid to strip down because of a tampon thread, the same one that shouted that I was the real deal – a prime, fertile woman. When did inhibition become my jam? Why was I wandering in the desert of self-doubt? Playa del Amor was screaming beauty, tolerance, and peace. It was time to rejoin that club... And I did. 

Bikini off.

Mexico. Part 2: How it all started

 We had big plans. A week in Zipolite, by the beach then renting a motorbike and going up the mountains all the way to Oaxaca City. 

So we spent two days in Mexico City and then flew to Huatulco, from where we took a cab (privado - you don't save that much on the colectivo and it's more comfortable) to Zipolite. 

Our first encounter with CAMP. As slightly mentioned in "Part 1", CAMP is this magical, quite unique lodging. You don't go there for the luxury. You go for the high chance of meeting wonderful people. If you look it up on Airbnb, you'll notice it has many "terms&conditions" in place. They're quite strict about them and once you meet Anthony, the owner, and he explains the concept, then it all seems like common sense: you're only respecting the nature. 

We were lucky, on our first stay there, to have met an incredible group of guests: an American from Austin, a Belgian lady who gave yoga lessons, an Australian living in Amsterdam, a Polish chick later on and the glue of this party, Anthony, the New Yorker owner (as my companion said, "don't hold this against him, he's very chill"). There were others, of course, but the smoking corner became like the "welcome committee" to all the others.

After a couple of days of doing nothing but going to the beach, eating tacos, doing yoga and having a very, very long morning coffee with the others, we decided to extend our stay by 2 days. Then by a week. The others, who had been staying there for months, were not surprised and actually warned us that it will happen.

 There went our motorbike trip and bye bye Oaxaca City. Nice to meet you peacefulness, spirituality, yoga, cacao ritual, extatic dancing and big whale in the ocean!! And the most beautiful, exciting and sought after moment of the day: the sunset. Seeing that magical ball of fire swiftly sinking into the ocean was out of this world! 

The village is not big and still has an original Mexican vibe to it. Little shops everywhere on the main street and plenty of restaurants for all tastes. It's quaint. People are super friendly and they take your "telenovela Spanish" for granted. I can say for a fact that my Spanish is a hundred times better than my German after 6 years in Austria 🤭 

There's (some foreign) investment and luckily, they all do their best to preserve the nature and stick to the local architectural design. Otherwise they would be kicked out by the community. 

Dusty roads take you to the sea or to the centre. Which reminded me of my grandparents' village, 30 years ago, and how unacceptable this would be now there. It's funny how we would still be considered just "poor", yet here it's called being one with the nature... 

To be continued...

P.S. No more AI tool this time, as you probably guessed:)

Stay safe!