“Did anyone pack their swimsuit?” a voice joked as our tour bus rumbled to a stop. Right in front of us stands the Bahamas, not the sun-drenched archipelago, but a motel, a curious slice of island life transported to Monterrey. You might wonder how a motel earned a name that evokes images of turquoise waters and coral reefs. The Bahamas motel, despite its landlocked location, seems to promise a different kind of escape, a brief respite from the everyday. Details about its history are as elusive as buried treasure. However, its presence speaks volumes. In a bustling city like Monterrey, a place known for its industrial prowess and modern amenities, the Bahamas motel is a reminder that everyone needs an escape, a little slice of paradise.
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“Can you feel that?” she whispered, her eyes wide with something akin to awe. “Feel what?” I asked, glancing around