We have to cross
the street to get to our new room. It’s on the “jungle side,” but it’s has the
same villa-esque charm. The mosquitos have multiplied, but my picardin-based
repellent does its job.
The sun-kissed sand is just as beautiful from the hotel’s lounge chairs and sun-bathing deck, but we don’t have much time for that.
We hit the ground
running, KC-style, after a balanced free breakfast, courtesy of Posada del Sol.
Breakfast included, and I really can eat this every morning. The desayuno of champions; first, a gorgeous cup of hot, start-your-day-right coffee. Bitter then battles sweet as you down a glass of freshly-squeezed juice. One morning it’s mango, one mornings it’s orange, and the next day it’s pineapple at its best.
There’s a basket of bread with plenty of toast, and a full plate of refried black beans and scrambled eggs. The red chili sauce on the side is heavy like a Szechuan ma-la; a deep, mouth-numbing spice that opens the palate and makes even the most anti-breakfast people keep eating. One day, there is even a full plate of fresh fruit with the sweetest, pulpiest sunkissed mango, and melon so ripe it turns into a deluge of juice with a single chew. It’s fuel food, the kind that gets you out the door and to the ruins before the tour groups and keeps the hunger pangs at bay ‘til lunch.
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