Just Like In A Movie...My friend had a home on the beach on the Mexican Riviera. When she wasn't staying there she would rent it out. She would let me stay whenever I wanted, and waived the rental fees, but I paid all the fees and gratuities for the service help. I had all the luxury of a fine hotel, with all the convenience of staying at home...the best cookware, spices, staple foods, beach towels and supplies, a jeep to drive.
The entire front of the house was glass, no curtains as she wanted an unobstructed view. The security patrol operated via whistles, to let each other know where they were. You felt very safe hearing the whistles, but sometimes you wanted something to drink from the fridge and would make that mad dash from the bedroom to the other side of the house, where the kitchen was. Occasionally, you would find yourself halfway there when you would suddenly hear BEEP! and fall flat on the the cool tile, waiting until the coast (literally) was clear. It still makes me chuckle. I wonder if maybe that security guard just sat there waiting, until I made my move.
Two palm trees picturesquely kissed in front between the house and the beach. It was almost deserted, expecially in the off season. I could take off my top and sunbathe in seclusion. The house was close enough the beach that we could see the ocean and hear the waves crashing on the shore. It was a short walk from the restaurant and palapa bar. I would purchase homemade tortillas or a fresh catch of fish or lobsters. There were fresh vegetables for purchase. I would prepare a feast for the entire neighborhood and have everyone over. It was heaven...a true paradise.
I went back there recently for a visit. The lovely, sleepy little fishing village...had become a major tourist attraction. What was a beautiful secret, had become an entrepreneurial enterprise of noise and crowds. It broke my heart. As they say, you can never go back.