Our Travels

Cancun 1984

Feb 13th, 1984

We had planned a week-long trip to Cancún and left our 2-year-old in the trusted care of Dexter and his wife Iris. But just weeks before our departure, my dad passed away unexpectedly. I traveled back alone for the funeral, navigating the heartbreak on my own.

When I returned, Kara gently asked if I still wanted to go. Without hesitation, I told her, “I need this trip after everything I’ve been through.”

And I’m so glad we went—because despite everything, we had the best time.

My honey is the most beautiful and sexy womon a man could want!

On our second night, we ventured into a small, off-the-beaten-path restaurant, and it turned out to be an unforgettable experience. As usual, our lively presence didn’t go unnoticed—we had a way of making an impression wherever we went!

Later, back at the hotel, we ran into the couple who had been seated next to us. The man, a New York cop, admitted that the restaurant had given them an eerie feeling, almost like something was off—maybe even dangerous.

But for us? We felt none of that. Just great food, warm energy, and a night to remember.

We set off in our rented Jeep, eager to cross the Yucatán and see the magnificent Chichén Itzá pyramid. Little did we know just how long and desolate the journey would be. Miles of empty road stretched ahead, the landscape vast and unyielding. But true to our spirit, we embraced the adventure—because that’s what we do best!

So desolate

The drive stretched over two hours along desolate roads, winding through remote villages where poverty was starkly visible. Yet, even in the simplest huts, a faint glow of television screens flickered through open doorways. At one point, a young girl stepped hesitantly to the roadside, her wide-eyed gaze asking silently: Where are you from?—and perhaps even more poignantly—Can you take me with you?

This was the pond where they did human sacrifices!

Looking down from the tower where they also did human sacrifices!

Our tour guide

Finally we got a glimpse of of the Chichén Itzá pyramid

I climbed to the top and down the other side. As you looked back, the steps disappeared. You are not allowed to climb it anymore!

It was getting late, and we had a long drive ahead of us in the dark. As I pulled into a gas station to fill up, I noticed another Jeep with a family inside.

The dad, towering and broad-shouldered—almost a dead ringer for Tom Selleck—stepped out and walked toward me. Before I could even greet him, he simply asked, “Want to carpool through the city?”

Without hesitation, I said yes, instantly relieved to have company for the journey ahead.