11 July 2013

Vacaciones de verano, noveno día

Around ten o’clock every morning, with Mr. P and I in our prime early-riser lounge chairs on the beach, a hotel attendant would come up with a post-digger and place a giant beach umbrella right where we requested. I didn’t know his name, so I just referred to him as Perfecto. “Oh thank goodness, here comes Perfecto with an umbrella!”

See, that umbrella was the only thing that allowed me to stay on the beach for more than twenty minutes. I was also wearing a hat and SPF 70 and yet I still got a little sunburned, even under the umbrella. It was crucial to my well-being.


Apparently in Mexico, if you are as sensitive to the sun as I am, you have “sensible” skin. Sensible as in, be sensible and you won’t have wrinkly skin by age forty? Sure, I’ll go with that.

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