First, I gotta say that we were at Temptation in 2015 the same week as the Shit Show, and it was phenomenal, and we fully intended to return the same week this year, but real life got in the way and we couldn’t make it happen. So we missed those crazy-ass mofos. That said, we managed to have a tremendous time anyway. I shall elaborate.
FLIGHTS & TRANSFERS
I know, I know, you don’t give a shit about our flights. You just want to read about the boobs. (At least that’s how I feel when I read trip reports.) But stay with me because this is meaningful.
We were two couples on our fourth trip to Temptation, and we’ve always gone Saturday-to-Saturday, and every past trip we’ve left home Saturday morning and arrived in Cancun Saturday afternoon/evening, and then (on the return) left Temptation Saturday morning and arrived home that evening. That gave us seven nights and six and a half days at Temptation. With me so far?
THIS time, however, we had the brilliant idea of leaving home on a red-eye on Friday night, which got us to Cancun early Saturday MORNING. And then (on the return) we left Temptation Saturday AFTERNOON and arrived home that night. That gave us seven nights and SEVEN and a half days at Temptation. A WHOLE EXTRA DAY. FOR THE SAME PRICE. BRILLIANT.
Also: USA Transfers. Duh. A couple we met made a rookie mistake: They took a cab and paid much more for TWO of them than we paid for FIVE of us. (Us four plus a stray unicorn we found wandering around the airport.)
CHECK-IN & ROOMS
Even though we arrived at Temptation in the morning and expected to wait around for many hours without our bags and our rooms, they had availability and were able to get us right in. (Maybe it’s because of what I’ll say in the CONSTRUCTION section, but our friends experienced no such shit and ALSO got right in.)
The rooms are fine. I don’t understand the complaints I’ve read. We’ve never had anything but clean rooms with clean sheets and clean linens and zero mold and working fans and plenty of space. The floors are slippery, and they become slipperier in direct proportion to your level of inebriation, but the solution to that is you lay down towels. (Or drink less. HAHAHAHA! Right!)
For some reason we’ve lucked out the last couple of years and ended up with a massive shower with TWO rain-style showerheads. I’m not sure if you can request that super-special shower or if it’s only a feature of certain rooms in certain room blocks, but DAMN. We spent a lot of time in the shower. Also, I’m not suggesting that any of you would be the type of people who would ever invite guests back to your room or that you would invite said guests into your SHOWER, but if you WERE that type of people, well, then, this would be the type of shower for you. You could probably fit ten people in there comfortably; 20 if you used extra soap.
OK, maybe some would call it “renovation,” not “construction,” but in our room block (5400) I swear they were building a tunnel for El Chapo. Every day - apparently except for the Saturday we arrived, or I may have noticed (and possibly Sunday - I don’t remember Sunday very well) - starting in the 9:00 hour, we would wake up to: BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! DRILL! DRILL! DRILL! JACKHAMMER! JACKHAMMER! REPEAT!
I gotta say, I fucking hate waking up to alarms - I put my iPhone on the most gentle, soothing sound selection it has, and I still fucking hate it - and this was the WORST ALARM OF ALL TIME. It’s like this construction is taking place DIRECTLY IN YOUR SKULL. If you’ve ever been out partying late the night before (and of course you have!) and you have even even a mild hangover (“mild hangover” - HAHAHA), then this combination will make you want to TEAR YOUR HEAD DIRECTLY OFF YOUR NECK.
We accused the couple below us of being the ones making all the racket, and if they hadn’t been so homicidal, they may have found that funny.
“Why,” you may ask, “didn’t you ask to be moved to a different room?” OK, legit question. So I’ll answer it. Packing for us is a Big Damn Deal. The lovely Racy packs intricately and voluminously. Once we are at our destination and settled into our room, she delicately UNPACKS everything and places it precisely where it belongs. If we were to have to REPACK all of our shit - and then MOVE it - and then UNPACK it all over again, why, a whole day of our vacation would be gone. THAT’S why.
Also, I should add that no one from the front desk or Guest Services or Suicide Prevention ever gave us an “FYI” or a “By the way” or a “Pardon our dust,” let alone an APOLOGY. This despite my, one morning, dialing 0 and simply holding the phone up in the air so they could hear our torment.
I guess the upside of this is that the noise got us out of the room and started on our days that much earlier. So I made them pay for our inconvenience by drinking more of their vodka. SUCKERS.
Moral of the story: Before you accept your room assignment, ask precisely how close they have put you to the gates of hell.
Perfect. I mean, come on, it’s Cancun in February, are you kidding me?! Would you rather be at home?! It was WARM! We had occasional clouds, but after a few drinks they magically disappeared. On Wednesday we had rain, but it was WARM rain, and it was LOVELY. I remember it was Wednesday, because I was in the Sexy Pool during the rain, and I remember spinning around in the pool, hands stretched up to the sky, drink in one hand (getting rained into, I suppose), proclaiming it the BEST WEDNESDAY EVER. In fact, I insisted that everyone else in the pool agree with me that it was the BEST WEDNESDAY EVER. (Sorry, everyone else in the pool.)
All four of us spent our days - from our construction wake-up call to our sun-behind-the-buildings goosebumps (with occasional breaks for food) - at the Sexy Pool. Because DAMN. There ain’t nothing like this place in the world. At least we haven’t found it yet. Nude beaches? Meh. Cruise ships? Surely you jest. Topless pools in Vegas? Not unless you’re a celebrity and/or blowing one. Nothing compares to the Temptation Sexy Pool. Great vibe, great people, mindless entertainment, free drinks, and, of course, lots and lots of BOOBS. (But more on those later.) And every year we meet people who we want to stay in touch with FOREVER. Damn, I’m starting to get misty. I wanna go back.
Enough peace, love, and happiness. Time to get bitchy. Ya know what pissed me off, even more than the construction noise? The ENTIRE time we were at Temptation, from Saturday morning until the following Saturday afternoon, there were two pool chairs, in the primest of prime real estate, front row center at the Sexy Pool, with T-shirts stretched over the back of them. And the owners of those T-shirts NEVER made an appearance. NOT ONCE. Many other chairs were perpetually reserved with shirts or bikini bottoms, or tied together with bandannas or some shit like that. And, more often than not, there were no asses happily warming those chairs. WHY, GOD, WHY must people do this? Don’t humans understand that there would somehow magically be chairs enough for everyone if they DIDN’T do this?! Or that we could maybe, waitaminutehere, SHARE CHAIRS?! Even with STRANGERS?!
I find it ironic that people who are otherwise open and giving become so territorial when it comes to pool chairs. “Yeah, you can borrow my sunblock! Yeah, I’ll go get shots for everyone! Yeah, you can even do those shots off my wife’s ass crack! But those CHAIRS over there are MINE MINE MINE, goddammit!”
Rant over. Back to fun shit.
We did this. It was in the Sports Pool. It looked fun. Unfortunately it was a breezy afternoon, so the foam kept wandering hungrily toward the buffet instead of making huge frothy mounds as one would presume foam-party foam is supposed to do. But it was still a party. In a pool. With topless women. And therefore good. Also, a Premier woman kept bringing us Premier shots of Premier tequila. Not that we know the difference, having been raised in a tequila-free environment. But we appreciated the gesture. And the limes.
Awesome. Imagine what these people have to put up with. In fact, don’t imagine. I’ll tell you:
- At the front desk: “I know check-in’s not for six more hours, but do you have a room for us?”
- At the pool bar: “I need four Pina Coladas.” “I need five red beers.” “I need 20 Wet Pussies.” “I need 14 Mexican Blowjobs.” “Will you help me carry them?”
- At the Italian restaurant: “See that couple over there? They’re from Belgium. Will you go serve them a plate of Belgian frites? With mayonnaise? From us?”
Et cetera. And I’ve heard some people complain about the entertainment staff, but look at the material they have to work with: US PEOPLE. *I* didn’t volunteer for any events, so *I* can’t complain that the entertainment staff didn’t get enough volunteers. And I thought they did a phenomenal job with the Mr. Temptation contest on our final Saturday, especially since it resulted in a bunch of women losing their bikini bottoms. Can’t sneeze at that!
We love it. Hey, we’re not food snobs. Not sure if we qualify as foodies. But we travel a lot and we make it a point everywhere we go to try to avoid chains and eat new and different things. And the food at Temptation’s restaurants always makes us happy. We don’t love every entree on every menu, but we can’t say that about ANY restaurant ANYWHERE. And the advantage at Temptation is if you don’t like your entree you can just ORDER SOMETHING ELSE. Yay!
We don’t go here. We find it stuffy (the air, not the peeps) and hard to mingle, with not enough elbow room at the bar. But that’s just us. No biggie. Thought I’d throw that in there just because.
Now THIS, THIS is where we go at night. Every night, from dinner until we drop. Dance dance dance. Drink drink drink. Mingle mingle mingle. With great, sexy people. Gooood times. We usually participate in the themes, even on nights when there’s not a lot of participation from others, so we appreciate others who participate in the themes too. But it’s ultimately not about the themes. And we really don’t care that much about whatever music it is they’re playing. It’s ultimately not about the music selection either. For us it’s all just an excuse to: Dance dance dance. Drink drink drink. Mingle mingle mingle. With great, sexy people.
Next to the Sexy Pool, Paty’O is our second favorite thing about Temptation. We’ve stayed at other all-inclusives that have either no nightlife or bo.ring.night.life. They seriously have no idea what they’re missing.
Speaking of theme nights, on our lingerie night, the women in our group were looking awesome in corsets and the guys in our group were looking ridiculous in fur jockstraps with tails. Which brings me to…
This was our fourth trip to Temptation, and this was the fourth time that we took virtually NO PICTURES. I usually leave my iPhone in the safe in the room. I worry about dropping and/or drowning it. (Experience.) Plus I find that cameras can be an enormous buzzkill; no one wants to get tagged on Facebook shaking their ass (literally) at some questionable south-of-the-border resort called TEMPTATION, so the more cameras, the less skin. We unanimously prefer the skin.
Anyway, we know that some of you met us and took our picture, or took YOUR group picture with us photobombing it, so if you would be kind enough to send us these pictures, please let us know. We’ll thank you by buying you drinks the next time we’re together. Which will hopefully be soon. Kiss kiss.
Want the truth? This is why we REALLY go to Temptation. There, I’ve said it. Once again this year, we met sooooo many great people. Made sooooo many great friends. I will not name them here. Because of their threats of legal action.
OK, here’s the part you’ve been waiting for. Boobs. Boobs boobs. Boobs boobs boobs. Also, boobs.
The first reviews we ever read of Temptation were negative ones complaining about all the topless women. We knew right then and there that we HAD to go. Because, you know, boobs. And this year did not disappoint. No, my friends, it did not. There were boobs at the Sexy Pool. Boobs at Paty’O. Boobs under transparent wraps at the buffet. Boobs in our dual-rain-showerhead shower. Boobs in my dreams at night. Boobs in the near distance over my coffee & Bailey’s in the morning.
One night we were walking up the stairs to our room and our neighbor came out to say hello wearing these tiny little red panties. AND NOTHING ELSE. I have no recollection of a single word that was said or how I managed to keep the conversation alive, but I mustered up all of my conversational abilities and was able to keep her talking to us for, like, ten minutes. Note that THIS DOESN’T HAPPEN IN REAL LIFE. Usually when you run into your neighbor, you wrap up the conversation ASAP. “Hey, Bob, get that sprinkler fixed?” “Yep?” “Cool.” But not at Temptation. Because it ain’t Bob. It’s red-panties girl. You know, the one with the BOOBS.
For the record, it’s not ONLY about the boobs. We became friends - like come-and-visit-us-on-your-next-vacation level friends - with a pair of couples who never got topless one time the whole week. I mean the guys got topless, but that doesn’t count. (Ask ‘em Richard Dawson, does it count? “Judges?” BUZZZZZ!) But did WE hold that lack of toplessness against them? Yes, yes we did. But we’ll stay friends with them anyway.
So that’s pretty much it. My final word on the subject? BOOBS.
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Great Review!!! as if I wasn't excited before WOHOO I am SOOOOOO FREAKING EXCITED!!! I cant wait 36 days for our first trip! Thanks for ramping up my excitement level... ricky says "yea thanks" <- insert sarcastic tone here lol he will come around when we are on the plane LOL
We were there from the 19th to the 26th. We were in room 5411. (I hope we aren't the homicidal neighbors?). The room construction was across the hall from us. 9:00 am full on earthquake! I first thought it was the peeps in the room above us! However...soon figured out it wasn't. Great report.
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