Last night, after a run and dinner, I went for a walk along the boulevard. I saw many hotels, and just as many dark boarded-up buildings. About every 10 minutes I was approached by taxi drivers. “Taxi, señor?”
I wandered into a flea market. A shopkeeper kept asking me questions I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) understand. I pretended I didn’t hear him.
Eventually I reached a mall near a bunch of nightclubs, like Planet Hollywood & Carlos ‘n’ Charlie’s & The City. And Coco Bongo, which I’ve heard is the best in Cancún. It is an all-inclusive club; US$40 gets you in and all the drinks you want. I found that out by asking a pretty Latina wearing a logo’ed t-shirt while waiting in the huge line out front.
“And I still have to wait in line?” I asked.
“Oh, you don’t want to wait here? Follow me, señor,” and she ran around to a hidden side door. “Fifty dollars, US.”
After I determined it wasn’t fifty MORE, I accepted and went inside.
Imagine a combination dance club and Vegas show, with tequila girls. That’s Coco Bongo. I saw acrobatics, chorus lines, and impersonators (KISS, Beetlejuice, Spider-Man, Usher, Beyoncè, Madonna, and more). So much fun. But after several hours, my introverted self was a bit over- stimulated. Finding the exit was difficult, and not just because of the drinks I had had and the packed crowd. I think they deliberately made the exit hard to find.
I grabbed a taxi outside and rode back to the hotel, presented with a sign on the seat in front of me advertising a 24-hour “adult spa”.