October finally arrived. It was crazy to me, I couldn’t believe I made it, I was living my dream in full swing. Sometimes I missed home, and got sad or frustrated about what I was missing out on. But it’s called home because it’ll always be there for me when I go back. One day we met Robin, a man also from Australia. So shocking, I know.

Dani made friends with him but I wasn’t so sure he would want to hang out with loud girls like us. He wanted to see some of the beaches in Cancun and we offered to go with him the next day. At first he was so quiet when he arrived at dinner the previous night, and I realized he needed some time to come out of his shell. If he wasn’t ready for our kind of company, he better get ready. Prepare to get shelled, Robin.

The next morning the three of us went to Playa Delphines. We would have been completely confident travelers if it weren’t for Evan’s deplorable instructions on how to get there.

“Just take the bus, you can’t miss it.”

So water bottles full of rum and coke in hand, along with ciders, Vegemite, tortillas and buns, we patiently waited for our stop. We had spent quite some time on the bus and were almost at the airport, cursing Evan’s name for being such a shit GPS. We all took turns asking other bus passengers and the driver when we should get off. I think our paranoia about reaching the beach was starting to show, because the agitated driver had begun to ignore us all together when we asked for updates on our ETA. He sped on stop after stop as I bit my nails.

I had little bearings in Cancun and not knowing whether I was communicating properly in Spanish made a simple 20 minute trip to the beach stressful. But soon after, the bus screeched to a halt in front of a massive worded statue of “Playa Delphines”. I guess Evan was right… it would have been pretty hard to miss. We ran off the bus and across the street, sending iguanas running in opposite directions at the sound of our groceries banging into themselves.

The water was warm, and the sand was hot and full of sharply broken shells. I was picking out a few of them from my feet like splinters as Dani and I cracked open our ciders. We attempted to use Robin’s beer can as a bottle opener when we realized we forgot to bring one. That failed miserably and we ended up spilling about the equivalent of an entire cider in the ocean in the process. Dani’s Amsterdam lighter has served well as an opener, but only for two drinks worth because it splintered apart. Then a few days later, Hector “lost” it anyway (the shit head). But eventually we figured out a system and were happily floating in the water with our drinks, chucking clumpy seaweed at each other, and body surfing waves. Despite the fact that I had swallowed an obscene amount of salt water because I never could manage to swim and laugh at the same time, it was another afternoon in paradise.

Me and Dani were always egging each other on, making vulgar jokes, and quoting ridiculous youtube videos. Our humor was a little strange and I had been worried that Robin wasn’t going to enjoy our company. But by the end of the day he was yelling absurdities just as much as me and Dani were. Whether that was due to booze or him just getting comfortable, it didn’t matter. Mission accomplished, Robin shelled. As the sun crept away from the beach, we folded up our sarongs and chased down a bus coming into Delphine while scrounging for change in the bottoms of our bags. We sat in traffic on our ride home, sweating profusely and sliding in our seats. I was impatiently staring down the long line of cars at a light and realized that my life had done a 180. I had gone from bitching about chilly weather and commuting to a job I hated, to riding out the rush hour gridlock in Mexico on the way home from the beach. Even my daily problems had become little blessings that I laughed at and welcomed whole heartedly. Life wasn’t just good as it had always been, life was sick.