April 29

8:46 a.m. – I’m on a crowded bus to Chetumal, Mexico from Corozal. It’s the first step toward going back home. The girl next to me smells. It’s about 400 degrees.

9:10 a.m. – Passed through the Belize border. Fare thee well.

9:24 a.m. – And now, Mexico. Seamless re-entry across the border. Just 10 kilometers to Chetumal.

10:41 a.m. – No, it didn’t take and hour-twenty to get to the bus station…I moved time zones. Back to Central time.

I’m kind of hungry and stared out the window to find a spot by the bus drop-off point (which is located by what I like to jokingly refer to as “Times Square of Chetumal.”) There was a place named “Barbaro.” Sorry, I’m not going to be trying to steak there.

11:05 a.m. – Prior to leaving Corozal, Matt helped me with some Spanish phrases which would help me along the way. So far, I’ve been able to manage my way through Mexican immigration, have hailed a cab and told the driver where I needed to go, ordered lunch (3 x pork tacos, bottle of water), and bought a first-class bus ticket to Cancun.

Tengo un gato en los pantalones.

Now comes the waiting. And the sitting.

11:30 a.m. – On the bus to Cancun…I made it, so now I can sit back, relax, for the most stressful part of the trip is behind me.

11:46 a.m. – Holy shit, what is it with me, international trips, and Tim Allen movies with him starring as Santa Claus? When I traveled to Australia, the movie station in Prosperine was “The Santa Clause I.” This time, on the bus, it was the third installation of this holiday crapfest.

I hadn’t seen “The Santa Clause II,” and shockingly – despite it being in a foreign language – I was able to follow along with numero tres.

1:46 p.m. – Not quite sure where we are, but I’m getting a little stir crazy. Good news – 2+ hours down. Bad news – 3+ hours remain.

3:41 p.m. – I just took a catnap and dreamt of the enchiladas verdes that I’m going to consume upon arrival. Yes, I’m hungry.

Seems a long way since my “first” meal of the trip – Hooters.

As much as I’ll miss this trip and my daily routine, I’m also anxious to get home and back to my routine. Two weeks ago – it seems like such a long time ago. It’s amazing what a creature of habit I am…

4:47 p.m. – We just pulled onto Cancun’s version of Rt. 1 in New Jersey. Traffic sucks, stop and go, and there are chain stores and restaurants on both sides. And even better, we’ve dropped to one lane and are being held up by a peloton and their respective aid cars. Yeah. I’m not sure if it’s a big bike race, or just some weekend warriors, but I’m starting to lose my mind. And to top it all off, the 40-year old couple in front of me are pawing at each other like two ninth graders in a mall movie theatre. “You’re right Rusty, he may pork her.”

5:08 p.m. – Benvenidos a Cancun.

5:36 p.m. – Welcome back to the El Tapatio and “tiempo de enchiladas verde.” Y una Sol. What a delicious, authentic Mexican meal to close out the trip before a cab to another nameless, faceless, soulless Courtyard by Marriott.

8 p.m. – I’m in bed early. Everything packed for the trip, laid out for the morning, and ready to roll. “Spy Game” is the movie showing on one of the few English-speaking channels. Solid flick. I put in a 4:30 a.m. wake-up call. Smart money has that call never coming, so I followed it up with the alarm clock, the wristwatch alarm, and the television alarm. A three-bagger…