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One of my all time favorite songs covered beautifully by one of my favorite bands. Enjoy! p.s. I insisted (way more times than anyone needed or wanted to hear) that the original song be played after our wedding ceremony. Unfortunately, I missed it but I hope someone noticed and adored it as much as I do.
What follows should not be considered a hotel review or travelogue. Due to circumstance (i.e. exhaustion and laziness) this is merely a bunch of iphone pics with large captions. At best, the whole thing is probably only useful to someone searching for non-marketing photos of the Wydham Aura hotel in Cozumel, Mexico. Seriously, this is just a tiny photo album of our honeymoon…and who the hell cares about that?
Should I state the obvious? We love to travel. Adventure is our middle name. Blah Blah Blah…who doesn’t love vacation? A 1.85 year engagement gives way to all sorts of crazy behavior: buying things you don’t need, changing your mind a million times about the most trivial of things and plenty of time to daydream about your honeymoon. Our daydream and at one point reality, was some grandiose idea that was based on traveling Highway 1 throughout every inch of its existence in California. And to get extra nutty with it, I want to do it via vintage convertible and/or Airstream trailer over the course of 13 seemingly blissful days. Plans change and sometimes for the better. Turns out that advice from former newlyweds was true. “You will be exhausted after your wedding. Do nothing on your honeymoon”. So, at the very last minute pre-wedding we planned to do exactly that. Unlike any of our other stuffed-intinerary vacations, we ultimately spent a majority of our time at the resort where we laid our weary heads upon fluffy (but firm enough) hotel pillows. We really did try to not to be lazy but fate (and stupidity) made sure we were as gluttonous as possible by handing my lovely husband 2nd degree sunburns on his feet…on the 2nd day of our honeymoon. Nonetheless, it was glorious.
The Wyndham Aura was a lovely retreat from the pavement we are usually beating. Not that we’re all too familiar with beach resorts but I do pride myself on my travel planning and hotel scouting abilities. Not to mention, I had a good research base to start with since I had planned at least 3 different beach destination weddings in the first year of our engagement. Speaking of which, I should note that we desperately wanted to head to Jamaica for our newly-planned honeymoon just so we could stay here…but flights were stupid expensive and of course that awesome hotel was totally sold out. Once we narrowed our location to Mexico our search had the following requirements: Small but conveinent. Better than average resort food. All inclusive alcohol. Lots of private beach. Big beds. The Aura provided all of that and a little bit more…namely, cheap and awesome couples massages on the beach, yummy all-inclusive food, late night room service and a more than cordial staff.
A view (from the beach) of the Aura lobby and main pool. The section of building lined in orange was a great little cafe for sipping espresso in the morning or getting sloshed around midnight. Down the middle of the building is the open-air lobby, a small conveinence store and entrances to a couple of dining spots (including the Polynesian restaurant that is immensely popular so get there early).
The iguana that I chased for some 30 minutes while the crippled husband hobbled behind me with a cerveza in both hands.
All of the rooms feature ocean front views (score!) but we were lucky enough to get a room with beach access, a lovely semi-private cove, patio with bed & dining table and a hammock hiding under the palms. Those amenities turned out to be very useful while my better half was hiding from the sun and I was soaking up as many cancer-causing rays as possible. I really don’t know what came over me…it was like I was from some part of the world that never sees sunlight.
A second patio off our bedroom provided another shaded view and was the ideal spot for our nap under the stars.
The bathroom was definitely geared towards the sexually-charged newlywed couple or nudist-in-training with its large “peephole” showers that gave anyone sitting on the living room couch a steamy, live softporn show.
Easy access to the pool we never used. I guess we’re ocean people.
The lobby at night.
Our patio. I think I photographed these lights at least 50 times. I want this light installation at our home…I feel a DIY project coming on.
The beach bed that is responsible for my boo’s 2nd degree sunburn. After the 1st day he would only lay on this bed at night.
Though there are three restaurants on the property, we spent a majority of our time here…not sure what it’s called but we lovingly remember it as “the place on the beach that is open all day every day and doesn’t require us to wear shoes”. We also remember it as “the place with the bomb ass cerviche” and “the place with our favorite waiter”.
By the end of the trip, we consumed more Dos Equis, pina coladas, filet mignon, cerviche and nachos than any one person should consider eating in 7 days. As a sinfully indulgent consumer of meat (otherwise known as a Texan), I can wholeheartedly endorse the steak cooking at this resort. And I doubt I will forget the greatness of the jalepenos that topped my 3x a day serving of nachos…really, I love jalepenos but these were beyond my wildest dreams. I should also mention that the bartenders were not even close to cheap in their liquor poors…in fact, my measly “review” of this hotel speaks to their generous pour merit. If you are anticipating being a tired, broken down mess after your nuptials, I highly suggest you recoup at the Aura…or just get drunk and gain 10 pounds. -lo Admittedly, my recent vacation in NYC was largely focused on photography. For 6 days all I did was lug around a ridiculously heavy medium-format camera while trying not to get run over by Manhattan-ites or dizzy while manually focusing on the buildings that loomed over me. I was on a mission like never before…shoot it till it’s dead…I suppose I’m referring to myself when saying “it’s dead”. But in between countless film reloads (seriously, I was shooting 120 which means only 12 6×6 centimeter frames per roll), I found time to have a couple of amazing meals in Brooklyn. Despite my intense love of pizza and that hour long break inside Ray’s Famous Pizza in the West Village (where I consumed far too many massive slices of delicious pepperoni) my favorite meal was at Five Leaves.
We grabbed a table by the Coffee-To-Go window for brunch…but really it was post-brunch so we received the “Inbetween” menu which was perfect for post-drinking, then hungover, 3pm dining. Typically, I don’t crave mussels when recovering from a night (that turned into dawn) of drinking but when I saw the word saffron in the description I was sold. So sold, that I didn’t even bother to read the remainder of the dish description. And the same mindless ordering occurred when I spotted the words truffle and fries. I instantly knew that I would be licking the seasoning from the truffle fries off my fingers in the middle of restaurant with absolutely no shame. In hindsight, I’m glad that I didn’t pay much attention to the descriptions because I think it would have ruined the extreme child-like joy I felt when my meal arrived. It was a magical moment.
I vividly recall a particular summer during my youth when I spent many days running along the shores of east coast beaches collecting “treasures” (otherwise known as beach liter) in a worn, galvanized, white-washed, shallow bucket. I’m not sure if it’s that fond memory or my ravenous hunger but I nearly jumped out of my seat with delight when my mussels arrived in a bucket that was nearly identical to my once beloved treasure bucket. Nonetheless, it was a sight to be seen. A more than generous serving of mussels soaking in a saffron coconut milk, topped with scallions and red chili peppers and then flanked with hearty cubes of grilled sourdough bread…perfection! And unlike some other places that serve truffle fries, there was absolutely no skimping on the truffle oil. Note: I can go into some serious rage when I order something with truffle oil and can hardly smell the truffles.
Luckily, I had the entire side of the table to myself because I needed every inch of room for my mussels, fries, bloody mary with fresh horseradish and the most amazing Americano I’ve ever had. I realize that I have the tendency to get excited over food and proclaim it the best of the best but really I consume mass amounts of espresso (in every city that I’ve visit) and including my caffeine-fueled trip through Italy, never have I tasted a better Americano. It was heavenly. So much so, that I would recommend any non-coffee lover to try it without even a spec of sugar…it could convert anyone into a feign.
My cohort choose what I consider to be a more adventurous dish, the Five Leaves burger. Based on description, I can’t imagine a ton of people being quick to try this burger; it seems that many people like to keep it relatively simple when dining on the All-American treat. If you are one of those people, the Five Leaves burger is definitely the place to explore new avenues in burger consumption. Tucked inside a simple bun was grass-fed beef, a fried pineapple ring, house-made pickled beets, harrisa mayo and an organic sunny-side up egg. Normally, I can’t even fathom eating a burger without cheese and you do have the option to add it to this dish, but it is truly unnecessary. In the ample bites that I stole from my friends plate, I found all the ingredients to be layered with sincere thought to the final product. Every item played its part and left me wanting for nothing more. Oh my god, I didn’t know I could love beets and burgers so much but ever since we served spicy beet and apple topped veggie burgers at our wedding cocktail hour, I’m convinced they are the new tomato. I feel as if my little written experience of this American bistro meets Australian food sensibilities is incomplete because I didn’t have the opportunity to dine there in later hours or during their actual brunch. But if their “Inbetween” menu hints at their gastronomic creativity then I’m sure all their other offerings are equally as exciting. Go before it’s gone! -lo
Saturday started out with brunch with friends at The Mecca, a longtime (west) Dallas diner. Like every great Texas diner I frequent, the iced tea is sweet and the chicken fried steak is served all day by a friendly (but not going to take your bullshit) staff. According to our friends that spend at least 2 brunches a month in this establishment, the highlight of the breakfast menu is the gargantuan cinnamon rolls. My shoddy iphone pic doesn’t do this pastry justice (especially since the color balance is beyond off), but trust me it’s far tastier than it looks.
After hoisting ourselves out of the comfy booth that was encouraging our food coma, we ventured to the Harry Hines Bazaar in search of pinatas, confetti eggs, cowboy boots and wranglers. I came extremely close to purchasing a pair of lovebirds…but I regained some sense once I realized that cage cleaning would be regularly required of me.
*iphone pics by me.
A couple of weeks ago, we spent 2 days surrounded by vintage furniture and wares, visiting a bazaar and of course, eating. Good finds all over the place. And because I went a little nutty with pictures of vintage Fiestaware, I should probably break this post in two.
1 of many mid-century booths located within a Dallas antique “mall”
many booths specialized in Fiestaware, prices were competitive…unless you adore everything which leads to total bankruptcy
if we had the room and I acted on pure impulse, this would by mine
1 of 2 items I regret not purchasing
I don’t recall ever seeing mauve Fiestaware until that day…I could spend a lifetime collecting it
we bought this cabinet…wish it came with all the stuff on top and inside it in this photo
the 2nd and absolute biggest regret: should’ve bought these…maybe if I quit smoking I could have enough money to indulge in an ashtray set
a Texas-inspired booth…pretty cool
more pretty fiestaware
* (iphone) photos by me I recently stumbled on the work of Vivian Maier, a prolific documentary photographer that seemingly never found an audience for her work (not too sure she ever looked for one). 15+ years of incessant photographing of Chicago life yielded thousands of negatives (many still undeveloped) and thankfully John Maloof found the work at an antique auction. Maloof is now sharing Maier’s work via this blog. Needless to say, I’m giddy with anticipation.
We’re excited to see our wedding pictures this week, so I’m posting a few polaroids from our honeymoon in Cozumel, Mexico. Taken with my SX-70. A few more pictures and a hotel recap to follow shortly.
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