All Inclusive

When you are in a hotel that is not only called Paradise but feels like it. When you have open bar 24 hours a day with the best mojito and daiquiri spinners on the globe. When the buffet bar is stuffed with lobsters, crabs, prawns, beef, pork, fruit, and much much more. When hunger can be satiated at any moment. When you can pluck coconut off a tree and drink them directly. When bananas or platano can be fried in endless amounts of butter and rum. When you are in the land of montecristo and habana and you can smoke them on the edge of a pool under a tent listening to the best of local music. When the beach at the hotel is the size of Ramla bay, only it is made of white sand and the sea is turquoise. When you can jump into any available pedalo and find yourself floating in the middle of the sea looking at a landscape of palm trees. When the night falls and you walk through lanscaped gardens and pools and listen to the chicadas compete with the rhythm of the salsa, merengue and cha cha. When your skin has returned to its natural black colour and you are still paler than most of the locals. When you sip through an amaretto while sitting on a gazebo as the sea laps the moonlit shore gently infront of you. When you are joined in all this by someone you adore. When all this happens....


... you might wonder for one little second.... whether you are a beautiful and unique snowflake. And blogging four times a day becomes less of an option and much much more of a burden.

Hasta Les Paresseux Siempre

PS. Houellebecq really, really, really sucks.