Having spent the previous night finally doing it up proper until the wee hours at the DJ pool afterparty, on the morning of February 24th, 2024 it was everything I could do to drag my carcass out of the 5-star floating marshmallow cloud I was sharing with my warm and comfortable m’lady to answer the prompt and cheery 8:45am wakeup call that i had arranged for, but with a selfless, heroic effort I somehow managed to do exactly that.

Ten minutes later I commandeered a chauffeured golf cart to take me to the nearby central building so I could get a large delicious coffee before getting delivered all the way to the golf course side of the massive Moon Palace resort, where I had a free massage booked in the large, standalone spa manor courtesy of the timeshare tour m’lady and I had endured earlier in our vacation. Slowly sipping my coffee during the ride through the jungly forest that separates the two sides of the resort provided a Zen-like start to the meditative hour(plus) that I had coming.

The “plus” would mostly refer to an imposed bout of relaxing in the large steam room before my massage. There were a few hot tubs in there, a wading pool with a waterfall, a large sauna extension…it was probably the closest I’ll ever get to the Playboy Mansion’s famous grotto, sans the beautiful women (genders were segregated upon arrival). I shunned it all and just laid myself down on a bench, where I relaxed as hard as I could until my number came up.

I’d booked a “golf ball massage”. I could easily and gleefully describe to you what my golf ball massage entailed, but I think it would be more fun for the reader to just picture it for themselves. Suffice to say, the experience was glorious. Afterwards there was more relaxing before hitting the shower and blissing myself out of there.

Shortly after we started back to my room the golf cart driver made a short, unsolicited detour through the woods which brought us to a secluded bar that was empty, save the lone bartender who was standing there polishing a pint glass; straight out of the movies..

“What’ll it be, sir?” he asked me with a raised eyebrow.

I ordered myself two Jack and Cokes and just like that we were back on the trail through the forest. I hadn’t even stepped out of the golf cart. I tell you, staying at the Moon Palace is like being King for a Day, except it’s five days. And Phish is playing.

After a solid brunch in the buffet I joined m’lady and a gaggle of friends at the pool until 2pm, at which point I ducked into a jam session that was scheduled on the beach under the same canopy where I had been joining the ohm crowd for morning meditation sessions. The jam was way more fun than I was expecting it to be. I even led a couple: Character Zero, Friend of the Devil, and I kicked off an epic Chalk Dust Torture jam that eventually ended in a comical Chalk Dust Reprise, the likes of which I had never heard before.

After returning to the room to change m’lady and I decided on in a quick dinner at the outdoor steakhouse again. This final show of Phish’s four-night run was slated to start early (at 6pm, which meant they’d actually be playing by 6:30 or so), so we didn’t want to take a chance in one of the fancy specialty restaurants. Our waiter dude brought us the wrong steaks but we didn’t care and they were both delicious. Then we hustled along the beach to the venue, where we joined a group of friends up close on Mike side, just where the playa starts to dip down to the ocean.

It was a pretty good spot and the closest we were to the stage throughout the run, but I’d liked the spots we had on the other nights better. No matter, we were in good company, with sand between our toes and a great band playing their butts off just a few dozen feet away.

On my first drink run I finally remembered to try out the Volkswagen bus packed with craft beer that I had noticed every night as I was leaving the concert. It was about fifty feet behind the main drink depot, so it had been stupidly easy to miss out on. No more.

After tasting all three of their offerings I got what proved to be the last round of their West Coast IPA; my four cups emptied the keg. I stopped on the way back to get m’lady a vodka soda and successfully juggled my booty back to my crew the front. My friend Dave was blown away when I convinced him that the beer I was offering him was not just another bland lager but was indeed an actual tasty IPA. I ended up making that same IPA run countless times over the course of the night (along with plenty of corresponding trips to the bathroom). All they had left at the end of the night were the final dregs of their hazy IPA..

One unforgettable moment during the show was a glorious moonrise that came during the middle of the first set. I turned and gaped at the giant yellow orb rising out of the Atlantic Ocean while Phish jammed out a killer Wolfman’s Brother behind me. It was a beautiful sight that forebode a chilling run through The Howling, which proved to be the second set opener).

Another notable memory came just before that Wolfman’s, when Phish offered up a giggle and a nod to the previous show’s landmark forty-minute Chalk Dust Torture with a hilarious tear through Chalk Dust Torture Reprise, a song that a) I hadn’t known actually existed, b) Phish had only played five times in the previous thirty years, and c) was, of course, a total karmic nod to the blazing Chalk Dust Torture Reprise that me and my guitar-strumming brethren had kicked out at the beachside jam session earlier that afternoon. ‘Twas awesome.

After a great show we all returned to the DJ pool party and found our way back to the semi-secluded wading pool that we had discovered and commandeered the previous evening. I tell you, a Moon Palace afterparty really is one hell of a shindig. I ate way, way too much one again, and we all just kept drinking and drinking and drinking. All within the very lap of hippified luxury.

The next morning the bubble burst as we checked out of the grand and lavish Moon Palace promptly at 11am. I shan’t bore you with our further Mexican escapades (Mexipades?) except to say that they included a couple or three days relaxing and eating tacos in Cancun proper, a straight-up laze that was broken up with a unique scuba diving excursion that saw us exploring the very cool MUSA Underwater Museum of Art just off of Isla Mujeres.

So even when we were done seeing Phish we were seeing fish. And statues. Then we flew back to Newfoundland and played with our cat.

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