Pam and Andy Get "Ruined"

Andy came home from work one day and said, "You look crabby … let's go somewhere."

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Last November, cruising on Horizon around the western Caribbean, we spent a day wandering around the colonial city of Mérida, capital of the state of Yucatan, and declared that we would return. We were charmed by a small hotel on Hidalgo Park, just a block away from the main square. Mérida is the place to go for ruin-scouting. It's centrally located among the works of the ancient Maya and is a vibrant, happening small city. It's called "The White City" because of all the limestone used in the buildings and the streets in the central area are swept twice a day.

We quickly came up with a plan of attack: Two days of R&R in Playa del Carmen was at the top of the list. I required an overnight in the charming town of Valladolid if, for nothing else, a run at the local delicacy, blood sausage. Then, on to Mérida.

We had visited a number of ruins before, including Tulum and Chichén-Itzá, but this trip would be a little bit more structured. We wanted to hit the "big four" … Tulum, Cobá, Chichén-Itzá, and Uxmal with the intention of picking up smaller sites along the way. The way we planned, we'd work our way "up" the architectural development of the Maya as construction became more and more sophisticated.

With Andy dispatched to Borders for guidebooks, I jumped on the Internet and found dirt cheap air. Non-stop both ways.

Pam and Charlie, the Driver, Check Out the Limo

But from Newark, about 90 miles up the New Jersey Turnpike from our homebase in Wilmington, Delaware. Guide Book Man, upon his return, pointed out that with the cheap air, we could afford a limo to Newark. Good idea.

Next call, Dave the limo guy. As usual on slow days, he cut me a break, heaved a heavy sigh, and said, "And I suppose you want a stretch, too." Why of course, Dave. And don't forget the cheap champagne. "Ah, you don't drink the stuff I stock. You always bring your own."

The next essential element was booking hotels. We knew where we wanted to stay in Playa, a sweet little property on the beach with hammocks swaying on the patios. We also knew we wanted to stay at the Hotel Caribe in Mérida, so only Valladolid presented a challenge. Easy enough on the Internet and the guide books bore out my intuition as to the best hotel in town. We also decided that spend the first and last nights in Cancún because our arrival was late at night and our departure very early in the morning.

No Hyatts for us … we wanted character and ambiance. Character and ambiance are also less expensive than the plastic experience. We had no intention of traveling "on the cheap" but the idea of keeping expenses down when the upcoming Hawaii trip promises to be tres expensive did have its own appeal.

Oh, and a rental car. $219 for a week, unlimited kilometerage.

The only disagreements between us, lo these many years, have been over where to have dinner. We quickly sorted out responsibilities. Andy was to be the driver, I the concierge in charge of everything else. He insisted on retaining veto power. I acquiesced to that reasonable request.

We then promulgated the rules. Rule One: There are no rules. Rule Two: No grumbling.

Everything was arranged in less than 48 hours and all we had to do was wait.

Packing was a breeze. Shorts, shirt, repeat seven times for each. One pair of shoes each. Bathing suits. One pair of long pants for Andy, one semi-dressy thing for me. Only required makeup: lipstick.