KID AROUND IN CANCUN
FAMILY FUN IN THE SUN AS A SINGLE PARENT, MINUS THE SINGLE SUPPLEMENT
My two young sons and I found the floating “islands” about 40 miles off Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula. We were not the only ones. A handful of other tourists on that hot morning had flocked here to gape in wonder. We circled in our small boats, looking at these masses, actually whale sharks, the biggest fish in the sea, each clocking in somewhere in the neighbourhood of 12 metres, nose to tail, and 15 tonnes.
A single parent, I’d brought my boys to Mexico to investigate a relatively recent — and long overdue — phenomenon in the travel industry. Resorts and vacation companies have begun to waive the heavy supplement that used to be extracted from a solo parent travelling with kids, sometimes as high as 50 per cent of the price of the room.
At Finest Playa Mujeres, a brand new, beautifully designed beachfront resort 20 minutes north of Cancun, my kids and I found a welcome example of an industry that’s starting to recognize the changing shape of the modern family. With its whitewashed cubist architecture, relaxed vibe, cactus and palm trees everywhere, and vast stretch of beach, it’s the sort of all- inclusive experience that even a proud hostel-andone-meal-a-day traveller like me can grow to love.
For poolside lounge- potatoes Finest Playa Mujeres is a no-brainer, comfortable, casually elegant and featuring nine restaurants. My 12- year- old, a self- described foodie (and rightly so) scored the Mexican restaurant called Lizo the best of the five we ate at. Of the three of us, he usually ends up ordering the best dish, and it was clear he did so again the evening I sampled his choice, the succulent duck “man chamantel” with pineapple sweet mole sauce, apple, pear and sweet plantain.
While you don’t have to leave the resort, we chose to do a few excursions, one of which was offered by Cancun Adventures, operating out of Punta Sam, 15 minutes from Finest Playa Mujeres.
At the Punta Sam marina we were fitted for wetsuits, and soon after we clamoured on board the charter, we were bombing over the waves in a beeline for open sea. The small craft heaved and bounced like a toy against the heavy chop, much to my kids’ delight. The horizon disappeared behind us and on we plowed for a good hour more. Nearing noon we found what we were looking for. Two whale sharks were feeding on the surface, swimming at walking speed. They are migratory fish and filter-feeders and represent no danger to humans. I’d heard — whether true or not, I don’t know — that more than one hapless snorkeller had been inhaled into the yawning mouth of one of these things. But in the end that wasn’t the problem we encountered. It was something else. From one moment to the next my sons’ faces turned from gleeful to ghostly pale.
Suddenly nauseated by the roll of the waves, like three others in our boat, they sprawled helplessly at the bow, panting and miserable. But in a moment they gathered themselves, knowing this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
They pulled their masks over their sweating faces, adjusted their snorkels, and heaved themselves overboard with a flop. We bobbed together, waiting for the nausea to fade, and it did a bit, as our guide had said it would, and my sons began pursuit, chasing with their weakened strokes a dorsal fin that rose from the surface of the ocean like a sail, maybe six feet tall. We came even to the shark and held pace for as long as they could manage. I swam my boys back to the boat and helped them up, making sure they were OK, and then went out alone. I was fortunate. I felt no seasickness that day, though I have in the past and know how debilitating it is. I got up close and swam with the whale shark again, eyeball to eyeball, and followed beside it for as long as I could before it powered forward, perfectly indifferent, and I broke off and contentedly swam back to my kids.