These were from long before we were even thinking about having a family. We were practically newlyweds then, not even married three years yet. G was still working at his former company, the one he got laid off from last year, and I was was still working at the Phone Company of Doom and Stupid. (True fact: I started working there on September 11th, although not THE September 11th. It probably goes without saying that particular date gives me the creepy-crawlies now.)
The trip was a prize for winning some kind of ridiculous contest. Ways to generate new revenue or something. My ideas were pretty dumb, but it this was before every dot-com on Earth lost everything they had, and apparently someone was feeling generous, because we got to go anyway. All expenses paid except for optional excursions, like this snorkeling-slash-whale-watching trip, which I am surprised my husband survived, because the water was like 62°F or something. The Pacific Ocean is cold.
We took these pictures with one of those underwater cameras, those all-plastic jobs that were quite the rage, back in the day. It's amazing that the film survived in the camera, partially exposed, for more than six years. Also, that waterproofing technology for camera equipment hasn't much advanced in all that time -- the fancy underwater case for our new video camera is basically one of these same all-plastic jobs, only more expensive.
I don't remember much about this trip, but what I do recall is so vivid that sometimes I still have dreams about it. Riding ATV's on the beach. G almost causing a sand avalanche and falling down a cliff. The beautiful desert colors of the resort. How the ocean smelled, the pool, the $18 turkey sandwich, being able to sleep with the doors open because there was no humidity.
Oh, and this. El Arco. Which apparently cannot be photographed badly, not even with rinky-dink plastic jobbies that sit around for years, undeveloped.