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Two women, flushed from dancing in the raucous disco down the beach, meander into the surf in front of me. Then she wanders off, leaving the friend, who, without prompting, confirms her quest.
Perhaps, she muses, in one of the dinghies tethered just offshore.
I settled in with two dozen people, mostly from California and Vancouver, whom I met on the plane: half of them men, half women, ages 25 to 50, almost all single.
Within days we were old pals, saving seats for one another at the huge circular dinner tables, exchanging gossip.
The bars have much better spirits, but then, they cost extra, as does sunblock, moisturizer, film and anything else one might need to buy at the on-site store.
(Bring twice as much as you think you’ll need instead.) Such minor price gouging was about as much of a problem as I found at Club Med.
After all, this is a Club Med village, and a “singles” one at that, she says. During my weeklong stay last March, I found that she wasn’t alone in what she came to Club Med for, and neither was I.
A bit embarrassed, I mumble awkwardly that that I’m “not here for that.” I’m here, I say, for intensive rest, and some personal introspection that I get only when I travel alone. A travel agent told me that nothing beats Club Med for fun, interesting and affordable travel for those going it alone.
I’ve been in Club Med’s Playa Blanca “village” an hour. One discloses that the other’s goal is to, uh, engage in a libidinous interlude before the clock strikes 12.And really quite amazing tarts, pies, flans and other desserts.The free wine and beer is cheap and watery, but not at all undrinkable, and certainly good enough to get through meals.The Playa Blanca village is a speck in the middle of nowhere on the Pacific Coast, about 120 miles south of Puerto Vallarta.It is luxuriously redolent with groves of tropical plants, aloe vera and cactus.