December 15, 2021
Day 22: Cancun - Doin' the PCR
With Dodie pretty much immobile, restaurant meals will not really be a thing for the rest of our stay. Dodie is happy to eat fruit and veggies mostly anyway. But Jorge came up with a chicken dish, and showing the difference between restaurant labeling and home cooking, when asked the name of the dish he replied "We call this chicken and tomatoes". Actually, there were some trick ingredients in there, notably achiote.
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We spent some time following the bad Omicron news from home and around the world. So strange - when we left home such a short time ago we confidently predicted Canada would be lifting the testing requirement on return, given that everyone on a flight would be certified vaccinated. But Omicron struck so swiftly, and now ...
Jorge found a PCR test site with the "reasonable" price of 950 pesos, and we will head over there today. We registered our appointment online, something that really took help, because of being all in Spanish. I am worrying a lot about this, because a positive test would have us stranded here with the injured Dodie, and not necessarily with a place to stay and isolate. So every time I sneeze, I am thinking "oh, oh".
It's expected, but still noteworthy, what a local can achieve in terms of accessing services, compared to a tourist. While the airport taxis were negotiating in the range of 500-700 pesos to originally bring us the 10 km to Jorge's house, Jorge commandeered a taxi to take us three to the PCR site, 10 km away in downtown, wait, and come back for 300 pesos. Also, when almost back home - about a block away - Jorge spoke out his window to the guy in the next truck over (carrying water jugs), the equivalent of "Hey Chico, bring me one". The guy knew who this was and where to deliver, showing what we also know - that even big cities are comprised of neighbourhoods that are much like small towns.
The taxi took us north on 307, which I pointed out to Dodie as her "favourite" road. 307, never a great ride, is quite brutal close to Cancun. But in the more normal course of events we would have taken it on the bikes to have a look at the Hotel Zone or the Isla Mujeres.
The PCR site, whose web presence was very slick indeed, turned out to be a pair of tents in the back of a parking lot. No matter, the people were still very professional. Not so smart was me, who stupidly assumed that the two emails (one each) in my phone that said "Ok, you are paid up and set to go, show up at 1:30, and your file number is 355..." was what I needed to bring. 5 seconds thought would have told me our passports were also needed. Otherwise, I could have brought anyone from the street and passed her off as Dodie. Fortunately the testing folks were reasonable and just had me print Dodie's name on a piece of paper - just as it appears on her passport. In my case, I was cool, because I always carry my drivers' license. People who know us well will recognize that this screwup would not have happened if Dodie still had her hands on the tiller. But the poor victim is forced for a while to rely on second string staffers!
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3 years ago
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Thanks for the back story, which I was just able to read to Dodie. Where you point out that being older she she expect to take longer to heal was good, because now she keeps asking why she still does not feel well (about four days into the recovery).
3 years ago
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3 years ago