Wally World

With less than one short week left in our stay in Guanajuato, it seemed that a family day was in order. After talking to various locals — both gringo and Mexican — I decided that a trip to a local hot springs was in order. I was told that it was family friendly. That it has thermal waters, to the tune of 95 degrees. That we need take nothing but our towels and sunscreen and rely on the local cafe for food and water. That it's less than an hour away, and more than worth the drive.

What I didn't know was that the trip would end up taking half a day, the thermal hot springs were actually a small part of a giant water park with 4-story slides, waterfalls, 2-story roller coaster like tubes of fun, and that I would love it almost as much as I love my Kindle.

In the past, I had written off water parks as the destination of people who stop at every Walmart on cross-country trips — they mark each one on the map ahead of time to ensure that none are skipped, and have photo albums of the family in front of each one. I had visions of tattered wife beaters on beet red bodies and trucker caps turned sideways, rusted RV's filling up the parking lot, kegs strapped to the back. Little did I know that here in Mexico, at least in the state of Guanajuato, it's actually a little bit of paradise for families with small children and college students with a need for speed.

To get to this still-unknown paradise, however, we needed a driver. The first driver I hired showed up in a Honda sedan, after assuring me he had seatbelts for all.

"Oh, you can put both kids in the front seat - it's just wide enough for them. No worries - I'm a good driver!" After explaining to him that the kids can't ride in the front, with or without the ONE shared seat belt he offered up, I had to break the news - Xote was a no go, at least with Ramiro.

"We NEVER do ANYTHING FUN!" yelled Shawn Joaquin, forgetting the many trips to museums, parks and trampoline camp every day. "You are NOT MY FRIEND!" yelled Madelena. "You are not my friend and you are NOT my Mama!"

Gregg simply hugged me, possibly to pin my arms down to keep me from striking anyone.

Within minutes I had Maria de Jesus on the line, asking if she could come from her ranch to take us to Xote....immediately. No problem, she replied, she'd be here in an hour.

Two hours later she arrived in her dusty, giant and completely safe Suburban. We all piled in and set out for Xote in high spirits. Two hours after THAT we had completed a full circle around San Miguel de Allende, Dolores Hidalgo, and various pueblos that had but two cows and a dusty shack to their name. On our insistence, we finally stopped to ask for directions, only to learn that Xote was a mere 2.5k from where we were. As we drove down the dirt road to what we hoped was mecca, we saw the tall slides...dry, empty of water or patrons. We saw an empty parking lot, and closed gates.

Holymotherofgod, this was our Wally World.

As I prepared to get all Clark Griswold on someone's ass — having checked the website that assured me that Xote was open 365 days a year — we saw a small gate open at the far end of the lot. There we learned that A) it was open and B) it had no food but chips, sodas, and beer. Fine. We were here. And damnit, it was going to be FUN.

And indeed it was; Shawn Joaquin surprised everyone with his whoops and fist-pumping as he came down the fast 2-story tubes in our laps, and Madelena surprised us with her caution and desire to hang out under a mushroom waterfall. The attendants turned on the massive four-story slide, and the adults took turns driving water painfully up their noses upon landing at the bottom. All in all, we spent four hours swimming, sliding, splashing and eating nothing but junk food. The families around us, all with complete picnics and gear, were kind and normal and seemingly amused by the one semi-gringo family with the aging adults who raced up the slides past the college students.

Best of all, I learned — once again — that Type A has no place in Mexico. There is a need to go with the flow, let go of expectations, and to let go of preconceived notions of what is or what will be. That the only thing one needs for fun is an open mind, a happy family...and sunscreen. The rest will take care of itself.