Eat, Dance, Swim, Acapulco

"Acapulco is very touristy.  You will not like it"
That was Kobi's verdict after his journey along the Pacific coast of Mexico.  I trust Kobi's judgement.  However, when our dance academy organized a trip to a Danzon convention there, Adi and I joined the group.

After spending most of the night  and some of the morning, in a small bus, we reached the congested streets of  Acapulco.  I crossed the busy avenue that separated our hotel from the beach, and stepped on the sand.  In front of me , the inviting blue bay was at the center of three concentric rings.  The white sands that curved around me, a tight semi-circle of high-rise hotels, and the steep green hills that accommodate the city's neighborhoods.  I immediately erased the hotels from my vision, and focused on the beach, which despite guide-book warnings, was less crowded than the one in Tel-Aviv.  A white-uniformed waiter approached with a menu in hand.  However, my mind was set on the water.  When I emerged, wet and grinning, the waiter was there.  He assured me that the red snapper was freshly caught.
"My name is Agustin." he said pointing to the badge on his chest,  "Ask for me."

1
In the late afternoon, Agustin arranged a table near the water, and served us a Coco Loco.  I went for a swim, then joined him in the kitchen to choose our fish.  The sun set as we leisurely sipped our cocktail, admired the beach, and discussed the advantages of low expectations.  Suddenly, I remembered the Mexican taste for over-cooked food.  I rushed to the kitchen and found the fish sizzling in the frying pan.  The cook, a skeptical expression on her face, consented to extract it from the hot oil.  I held my breath while cutting under the deeply tanned skin.  We were lucky.  A few more minutes, and the fish would have been on the other side of well-done.  After twenty-four hours without a meal, we devoured it down to the white bones.

The next evening, Agustin greeted us like old friends.  We ordered the red snapper again.
"Please explain to the cook," I told him, "that I like the meat wet, and ask her to fry it less than yesterday."
The result was deliciously crisp outside, and moist inside.  We were happy, full, and ready to shine in the Danzon Gala.

On the third and final day, we came for lunch.  We resisted the first impulse, and ordered shrimp.
"Remember yesterday's fish?" I asked Agustin, "It was good, but please, cook the shrimp even less."
The plump shrimp arrived soft, juicy, and sweet.  I am sure the cook thought she was serving cannibals.

2
The main event of the convention was held in a fancy hotel, on a balcony, perched on a cliff, overlooking the bay.  Warm air, stars above, and a twelve-piece orchestra, made this an elegant Cinderella ball.  I could have danced all night, and I did.  Never before did I feel so light and smooth.  I was relaxed, I was smiling, and not even once did I look at my feet.  Fireworks illuminated the sky as Adi and I celebrated our graduation from novice status.  We were the only foreigners in the ball, and we attracted much attention.  A handsome dance instructor, which we addressed as "Maestro", involved us in a little game.  He would glide next to us with one of the seven women he hosted at his table, and without a breaking his rhythm, he would swap his partner with mine.  I did not object, since this was a good opportunity to improve my skill in leading, but I think he got the better deal.

3
At the same time that I encountered Danzon, I began teaching myself to swim freestyle.  I was eager to swim in Acapulco Bay, and I was sure that whatever pollution it may contain, cannot be worse than our over-chlorinated pool.  The narrow entrance to the bay blocks the pacific waves that pound Mazunte, and keeps the sea shiny smooth, with only small ripples generated by the light breeze.  I plunged in, and to my delight, the temperature was perfect.  I knew then, that no matter what happens in the Danzon events, I will enjoy swimming here.  Each day, I increased the swim distance.  As my final objective, I chose an island which was far enough to be challenging.

On the morning after the ball, I woke up late and tired.  I forced myself to the beach, with freedom to abort.
'If I don't feel good,' I told myself 'I will just take a short dip.'
I started with a drill from my instruction CD.  I extended my hands, relaxed, and eased myself, face down, into the water.  It was a matter of physics, but it felt like a miracle.  Unlike the pool, I did not have to flutter my feet to stop my legs from sinking.  I took a breath, tried again, and achieved the same results.  I began swimming with the same sense of calm and relaxation, and within a few strokes I decided to swim to the island.  As I swam, a school of tiny fish surrounded me and nibbled on my calm legs.  I enjoyed the tickle massage and dismissed any thoughts of bigger fish that may be interested too.  I concentrated on my stroke  with a  a meditation-like focus, until a group of kayakers interrupted my meditation.  We exchanged a few pleasantries, and I continued on.  I arrived at the island feeling better than at the start, needing only a pause(at my age, it's hard to pee while swimming), before returning to shore.  Google maps confirmed the distance to the island as 1200 meters.

Kobi was right.  Acapulco is very touristy, but I liked it.
     

P.S.  Acapulco's trademark, the cliff divers, should not to be missed.