Spring Break.
Let’s be honest, there’s no explanation
necessary. But I’m feeling articulate and am currently in need of a little
in-flight entertainment so I’m going to give you one anyway.
The word ‘excited’ doesn’t even begin to
cover how we were feeling as our United Airlines vessel arrived in Cancun. I’m
a complete sun-worshipper so trading in the bipolar temperatures we were
getting at college for some good old Mexican humidity had me wriggling in my
little aircraft seat.
Stepping into the foyer to check in at Oasis Cancun was like stepping into an
alternate universe. Music and drunken yells were so frequent it was as if on a
soundtrack, and half naked boys and girls were running in every direction.
The atmosphere in three words: party, party,
party. For all you Aussies, picture a schoolies where everyone is of age,
unlimited booze is on tap, nudity is not only expected but encouraged, body
shots are rarely consensual, and thousands of you are staying at the same
hotel. Catching my drift?
Naturally, our Spring Break turned into a
five-night-bender. Each day went something like this…
1. Rise at 10am and kit up in
bikinis and shorts
2.
Trick our bodies into thinking
they would be well nourished with a buffet breakfast
3.
After the last spoonful of
oats, head straight to one of the many bars; around the resort, in the pools or on the beach for shots and Electric Lemonades (advisory note: EVERYTHING tastes
like tequila)
4.
Run amuck; dance at the stage
on the beach, swim in the crystal clear ocean water, or risk injury on the
hammocks
5.
Repeat steps 3 – 4 for
approximately seven and a half hours
6. Head back to the dining area at
6pm for bulk servings of spaghetti bolognaise and wedges
7.
Go back to our room, shower,
change and get ready to go out
8.
Catch a bus downtown to all the
clubs – party until 3 or 4am
9.
Get a few hours sleep, and do
it alllll again
In this alternate universe, it certainly
pays to be a girl. Literally. On a couple of occasions, my friends and I were
coaxed into bars by the offer of a free drink by the club managers. We were
kept there by a seemingly unlimited supply of free shots; under the
oh-so-tedious condition that we danced on the bar. We kept it clean, of course;
fully clothed and busting moves that wouldn’t put our parents to shame (which is more than i can say for majority of the other people in the club... just sayin')
It was quite strategic of us, really.
As for the lads, things didn’t come quite
as easily. With a male to female ratio of about 6:4, (which turned into 7:3 at
night) there’s no questioning where the term ‘Mancun’ came from. Notably, of
that 60% male population, at least one third could have been confused for a
relative of Pitbull. Seriously. Juiced-up baldies wearing thick dark sunglasses
could be spotted all over the resort. Who knew Mister Worldwide had so many
aspirers.
Unfortunately, my photographic skills were
slightly inhibited by the fact that I was rarely without a drink in hand.
Still, I managed to get a few sneaky snaps.
Take me bacckkk!
