A Letter to Valentin Imperial Maya Resort: A Honeymoon Travel Review

Dear Valentin Imperial Maya Resort,

Hiya!  Is it okay if I call you Val?  No?  Okay, how about Valentin?

Alright, thanks.

(Whether or not you agreed, I'm going to run with it because I'm actually a terrible typist, and this might be a long-ish letter to you, and I don't see the point in retyping "Valentin Imperial Maya Resort" seventeen-plus times.  Okay?  Awesome.)


This is coming to you roughly three weeks after we left your glorious resort.

Don't you remember me?  Well, I'm that crazy, accident-prone redhead who decided to go galavanting on the beach at night on my first night at your establishment.  My galavanting lead to an incident involving running and rocks and meeting your (extremely patient) on-site physician, Dr. Gabriel.

Dr. Gabriel gave me five stitches amidst my squirming like a child and repeatedly ignoring his instruction to "Stay still!"

Remember me now?

Great.

Well, anywho, I just wanted to thank you for making my first visit out of the United States such an amazing one (in spite of the injured condition of my left leg, right foot, and both palms).  I loved my time with you, Valentin, and I truly didn't want it to end.

I kept offering to be your librarian and be in charge of organizing, cataloging, and managing a paperback trade library for your guests, but you just chuckled every time I brought it up.

To be fair, I brought it up a lot.  And I wasn't actually kidding, but it's okay.  No hard feelings.

We stayed in one of your Emerald Junior Suites.  One word?  AMAZING.

We walked in and saw the gorgeous towel display that you prepared for us.

I mean, really?!  How thoughtful!

We then began surveying the rest of the room, taking a flurry of blurry camera-phone photos because we're professionals like that.

We really enjoyed the balcony on the other side of that curtain.  The view?  Fuggetaboutit.

I want that view back.  Today.  But, moving on.

I must say, our "welcome" spread was delightful.

Especially the Bailey's.  You know how to speak to my heart, Valentin.

Remember the blurry photos I mentioned above?  Well, here's exhibit A.

Hi, world!

To my immediate right (from the above blurr-fest 2014) was the actual "bathroom" element of our bathroom, and seeing my very first bidet scared the bejeezus out of me.

I avoided that corner of the bathroom for our whole trip.  I'm not very well traveled, but you won't hold that against me, will you Valentin?

Okay, thanks.

We loved, loved, LOVED our shower/jacuzzi tub situation.

I mean, look at this!

I want this view forever!

And this shower with the double shower heads (...that aren't actually visible, but then again we know I'm no Ansel Adams)!

And this tub.  Swoon.

You even added a door leading out to the balcony from the tub.

You're very thoughtful, Valentin for having provided such a lovely and wonderful vacation living space for our week with you.

 We enjoyed many a morning with this view.

Sigh.  I'm getting misty-eyed remembering them.

But, moving on...

After gathering my wits about me the morning post-beach injury, Mr. Pihl and I set off to explore your beautiful resort.

Our first stop was to revisit the scene of my numbskulled misfortune.

There, plain as day, was a sign foretelling what I would find on the beach.  If only I had night-vision and the common sense of a normal adult.  But there's no need to dwell on the "what-ifs", my dear Valentine.

We walked around all morning, and were completely enchanted by the atmosphere you've created!

From the gorgeous landscaping:

To the pathways with magical rocks playing relaxing vacation music:

Which were transformed at night into glowing lanes of romance.

The walk down to our Privilege reserved beach cabana was one of our favorite treks.

We're very dedicated beach bums, so I must confess that we spent zero time at your beautiful pool.

But it looked lovely.

I appreciated the numerous signs you had along the walkways about the animal life around the resort.

These guys were everywhere...

...and they all must have communicated the same message to one another:

"RUN FROM THE REDHEAD!"

Yup.  There he goes.

We've already established that I'm a terrible photographer, so I'll spare you from the agony of looking at an array of mediocre photos of fabulous food.

Well, except for this one.

This was my favorite.  I don't think you know this about me yet, but I really, REALLY like dessert.  I don't remember the official name of this ramekin of delight, but it was served at the The Lobster Pot and involved chocolate (cake-like), more chocolate (melted delicious ganache-like), and vanilla Chantilly cream.

My.  Oh my.  Oh my, ohmyohmyohmy.  This.  Was.  AMAZING.

Okay, so... I'm going to break my no-food-photo rule one more time.

Coatepec is my new friend.  Thank you for introducing us!  I'm forever in your debt.  This coffee/boozy/whipped cream goodness has changed my world forever.

I ordered this in your piano cafe, and the ambiance was lovely.  Just lovely.

Also... Alberto over at the sushi bar inside of your restaurant Ginger might just be one of our new favorite people.  He got my Kansas-born, land-locked living, fish-hating husband to eat and (more importantly) LIKE sushi, sashimi, and those wonderful pieces of heaven we call salmon sake out here in the sticks of Kansas.

We graced the bar of Alberto's expertise more than once during our week-long adventure with you.

Oh!  One more thing...

Ice cream at your beach bar?

Genius.  Pure and wonderful genius.

That's the face of a happy man and his ice cream, my friends.

Random thought of the day: We both wanted to thank you for having WiFi freely and easily accessible throughout our stay.  We could even reach it down in our beach cabana!  (From where I even posted a "Tuesday Ten" blog post all about our time at your location of paradise)  You're too awesome for words, Valentin.

Before we knew it, our week was up and it was time to go back to reality.  Here I am in the midst of my second (out of FIVE) complete "I DON'T WANNA LEAVE" breakdowns.  Tears were involved more than once.

So... here's where I'm about to get real, Valentin.

Real sappy, more like.

Since it was our honeymoon, we decided to splurge on your additional Privilege Package.  Your Privilege folks were amazing.  Spectacular.  Thoughtful.  Considerate.  Kind.  Helpful.  Accommodating.  Wonderful.  Mr. Pihl and I were blown away by how genuinely nice your staff (in general, of course, but especially those) in your Privilege department were.

After my tumble down the rocks (which lead to a few days of limping) your Privilege-ers hunted Mr. Pihl and I down to let us know that they'd taken the liberty of switching our beach cabana to one right off from the walkway (as opposed to its previous location, waaaaay down the beach).  You told us that you didn't want me to worry about the distance with my injuries.

Valentin?  You have no idea how much that moved me.

I think that it was your Privilege concierge staff behind the cabana-changing-cahoots, and I'm beyond grateful to them.  The same folks were always incredibly helpful when it came to making our dinner reservations (which are such a "Privilege"!  Ha!  Get it?!  Sorry.  Bad humor).  They helped us choose what restaurants to go to when, scoping out prime dining times and locations based upon our tastes.  Questions were answered, advice was exchanged, and mimosas were accepted (by me).

On the beach, your staff's attentiveness and willingness to go the extra mile was not unnoticed.  The Privilege beach concierge Nancy became like family to us (I may have just made up her job title, for which I deeply apologize).  We'll never forget her.  I confess that I started crying when it was time to leave and I saw her walking toward us for a goodbye hug.

No joke, Valentin.  Tears.  And a lot of them.

Let's not think about the sad things though.

Let's rejoice that we are so obsessed with you that we've already joined your rewards program!  We're coming back one of these days!  I have a feeling that it will feel like we're coming home.

So until next time, dear Valentin...

Thanks again, and don't forget us (because we sure won't forget our time with you).

All our love,

The Pihls.

P.S.  If you ever change your mind and decide you need a librarian and a pharmacist on staff, Mr. Pihl and I are your people!

P.P.S.  I'm totally serious.  You can pay us in mimosas, mojitos, and dirty monkeys.  And Alberto's sushi creations.

Amen.