Postcard #2: Salt Pools, Expectations, and Learning to Let Things Be Meh

What do burning lady bits, Instagram expectations, and a slightly delusional travel itinerary have in common? Apparently… me.

In this episode, I share the story of floating in a natural salt pool in Mexico—something that sounded like the perfect slow-travel dream but ended up being one of those “why am I doing this?” moments. We’ll talk about:
    •    The gap between travel expectations and reality
    •    Why some experiences are better in theory than in practice
    •    Performing for social media vs. actually being present
    •    Letting yourself be disappointed (and still grateful)

This is a salty, slightly uncomfortable postcard about letting go of the perfect aesthetic and embracing the awkward, itchy, real stuff instead.

This is Postcards I Never Sent. Thanks for floating through this one with me.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00: 0:00

Just floating in salt pools, nature's own spa day somewhere in Mexico. Getting in is cool, in theory. In reality, the water was slimy, the wind was aggressive, and the salt dried onto my butt like exfoliating sandpaper. I basically left crustier than a bag of kettle chips. 10 out of 10 for the photos, 3 out of 10 for the actual experience. Did I float? Technically, yes. Did I relax? Emotionally, no. Hey, I'm Krista, and this is Postcards I Never Send. I'm currently somewhere in a van between Alaska and Argentina, emotionally and geographically. This podcast is part travel diary, part spiraling, mostly human AF. This is where I say all the things I never put into captions, the conversations I was too scared to have, and the thoughts I scribbled into notebooks that never made it to the mailbox. It's not about pretending I have the answers. It's about sharing the mess, the magic, and everything in between. I'm just trying to make sense of it all, and maybe help you feel a little more seen in the process. So whether you're on your own journey, or just eavesdropping mine, I'm really glad you're here. Okay, so picture this. You're scrolling Instagram, and you see those white-rimmed, uniquely shaped turquoise salt pools set in the middle of nowhere with nothing but white sand and peace and quiet. Some influencers floating in one with their arms spread like she's levitating. I saw that and thought, yes, that. That is what I need. I remember Will and I coming across this place on Instagram when we were scrolling looking for cool places to go in Mexico and we were super stoked about coming and we were excited to feel like we were floating in the Dead Sea. We had pretty high expectations. But there's a certain kind of travel experience that lives in the gap between how it looked on Instagram and how it felt in real life. We planned that shoot the day before. I even had a vision in my head. Float, drone shot, serene face. Nailed it. Until we actually got in. We even stopped by that day to get some ideas. I dipped my hand in the water and it came out feeling slimy and just downright disgusting. I thought, wow, this might actually be hell. but I told myself it has to just be the surface. The next day came, the wind was still wild and it was our last day in the area so it was now or never. So we made our way back to the salt pools. What I had originally envisioned was peaceful floating, warm sun, a little meditative moment where I'd connect with Mother Earth and let all my tension melt away. That I would emerge like some enlightened salty goddess with dewy skin and a whole new outlook on life. Cut to reality, I'm standing there in my swimsuit, it's windy as hell, my hair is slapping me in the face, it's chilly, and all I can think of is this slimy troll I will emerge as after this is all over. But at this point, we're here, and I'm determined to get these Pinterest board-worthy photos. So I step in the water, the salt is sharper than a razor blade, and I lowered myself in, slowly. And inside my head, I'm just like, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew. Oh crap, it's not that deep. How am I going to float in this without cutting up myself from this razor sharp salt? I kept lowering in until I was able to lay back and float with that last shred of hope that this was going to be some sort of magical experience. But what I got was slightly more exfoliating. The water was warm, to my surprise. Warmer than the cold air that was creating ripples in the water. I was trying to hold my pose while trying not to float into a jagged salt block. Will was flying the drone and I was silently losing my mind, wondering why I ever thought this was a great idea. Why I ever thought that floating in this weird slime pit would be sacred. Will comes up so he can float beside me for some really epic drone shots and accidentally splashes nasty water in my mouth. The water tasted so potent and horrendous I don't think I ever had a flavor that gnarly enter my mouth. Now I'm in panic mode, dramatically spitting this water out of my mouth, wondering what kind of crap I may have just ingested. I have no way to get this taste out of my mouth other than just spitting and spitting. The taste lingered in my mouth for quite some time after. Now it was time to start recording video and getting photos. I tried to act chill about it. Like, yeah, I'm just vibing, soaking in the natural minerals, letting the earth heal me or whatever. But slimy salt water was getting in my ears. Will kept accidentally splashing the water in my mouth. I kept floating into a salt block in the water, which cut me up a little bit. The cut started burning, and it wasn't long until my lady bit started to burn too. Which was very concerning. Don't ask me why or how, it just did. Don't get me wrong, the floating felt really cool. Like being in the Dead Sea, which I'd never been, but that's how I'd imagine it would feel. At some point I had a mini meltdown to Will saying, I need to get the hell out of here ASAP, my vajayji's burning, and I don't like it. This feels gross. I hate this. The taste is so gnarly. The water keeps getting in my mouth and the taste is lingering in my mouth and it won't go away. I need some water. I need something to drink. This sucks. Why did we do this? This better be worth the photos. I just had to get out. This is not what I wanted and I was so completely over it. We didn't stay in that much longer since I really started to worry about my health and what might actually be in this water. It's one of those things where when you arrive you just kind of think what could go wrong it's just salty water right but it's also one of those things where you probably should have researched before going in we looked it up later and it turns out the water should be just fine so we we ended up being okay but finally it was time to get out and I was stoked to get out but I knew it was gonna be not fun I wanted to come out feeling restored. I remember dipping my hand in, thinking and hoping, maybe it's just the surface. But no, that sliminess was a full-body experience, and drying off in the cold wind was not fun. We put plastic bags on our seats in the van so we didn't get the salty mess all over the material and we hit the road to the nearest shower. One thing to know about me is that some textures and feelings can really bother me. I've always been sensitive to texture and it's in a this fabric is going to ruin my day kind of way. I don't like dry ocean hams. I don't like gritty couches. My parents had a couch when I was a kid and I don't even know what kind of material it was but I I avoided sitting on that couch like the plague just because I hated the way it felt. If I feel a texture I don't like, I cringe and tense up and immediately have to rub my hands all over something else. So sitting in slimy, salty water? That was a lot. Especially the feeling it left on my skin after I got out. But the worst part wasn't being in the salt pools. It wasn't even getting out. No, it was the 15-minute drive to the shower that felt like a lifetime of feeling miserable and the itchiness that followed. The itch doesn't start right away. It sneaks up on you about 10 minutes later. A slow burn behind your knees, on your shoulders, your chest, your butt cheeks, everywhere. By this point, I was itchy and mildly irritated. And by mildly irritated, I mean pretty spicy. Probably spicier than the tacos we had the other day. The water in my hair was still dripping down my neck and chest, and as it dried, it crystallized all over my body. And let me tell you, these tiny salt crystals are literal shards. I found that out the hard way when I rubbed my chest, and it felt like I just rubbed fiberglass all over myself. Now my skin was burning amongst everything else. I was filled with deep regret, trying my best not to move or touch my skin. I was sitting straight up, did not move, holding as still as like a statue basically, holding the seatbelt so it wasn't touching me, and I did not move. I told Will I'm never doing that again. That was stupid. These photos better be worth it. That sucked. The water was probably so toxic, and then my head was just filled with all kinds of thoughts like why was my vajayjay burning? How toxic is this shit? Are there all kinds of chemicals? Am I going to have a rash? Am I going to die? Of course, my headspace can get a little bit dramatic at times. Meanwhile, Will is also uncomfortable in the front seat, also itchy, but also incredibly happy simply because he was able to float. But he isn't sensitive to texture, he didn't get water splashed in his mouth several times, and his man parts weren't burning. This was the one and only time I was aiming for the aesthetic shot and he was going solely for the experience. Usually he is aiming for the shot and I'm there for the experience. At some point, maybe when I was spitting water out of my mouth and yelling about my burning lady bits, I realized I wasn't even in the moment. I was performing it. I wasn't floating to connect with the earth or have a sacred experience. I was floating because I thought that's what I was supposed to do. Because it would look cool. Because the photo would slap. Because Instagram told me this was the vibe. And I mean, it was a vibe, just not the kind I was really looking for. Will was in the moment. I definitely was not. I felt like I'd been through something, like I'd done a battle with nature and emerged crusty, confused, and slightly humbled. Finally, we made it to the showers. Will handed me my shower bag, and I scrambled to the shower room and got straight in the shower. Since I was trying to be more natural by doing a no shampoo hair care, this meant getting the saline out of my hair was incredibly difficult. To top it all off, the warm water of the shower lasted only 10 minutes before going ice cold. I swear the sliminess stayed in my hair for a good two weeks. I was pretty hangry by this point, so we went to find some churros and a torta to share before I could finally ground myself again and could laugh at the unexpected, mildly uncomfortable experience we just had. After all, floating effortlessly in a salt pool is a pretty cool feeling, even if you're getting mouthfuls of water and certain parts of you are burning. The funny thing is, even though I was filled with deep regrets throughout the experience until I was able to shower and the whole thing was uncomfortable and kind of absurd, I don't regret it one bit now. Because it was real, and there was something so human about it. Trying so hard to have a perfect moment and realizing that nature doesn't give a shit about your expectations and just surrendering to what it is. It was gritty and ridiculous and the opposite of curated. It reminded me of why I do this, why I chose this unpredictable, sometimes gross, always memorable way of living. I think there's something sacred about experiences that don't go the way you want them to. They pull you out of the curated versions of life and force you to sit in the messy, weird, kind of gross reality of being there. And that's where a lot of self-discovery lives, in the moments you expected peace but found irritation. in the days you wanted a highlight reel and got a blooper instead. And honestly, I feel like I learned more from that weird, itchy experience than I'd learned from some of my most epic travel moments I've had. So in case you ever find yourself chasing the perfect salt pool vibe or just chasing anything that looks better online than it feels in real life, here's a few things I'll be taking with me besides salting my hair for the next two weeks. First, lower the aesthetic pressure. Not everything has to be profound. You don't have to have an epiphany at every location. Some days are just okay. Some moments are kind of gross, but that doesn't make them any less valid. Second, don't ignore your body's no. Whether it's your skin, your gut, or your intuition whispering, maybe don't dunk your face in this mysterious body of water. Listen, seriously, it might be okay, but also you don't want to mess around and find out. that could have been a very real and crappy experience for me. Third, travel isn't therapy. It's beautiful, it's healing, but it won't do the work for you. I think I went into that experience hoping for some relaxing spiritual reset, and what I got instead was a full body exfoliation and a minor existential crisis. Fourth, ask yourself why you're doing the thing. Are you doing it for the memory, the photo, the story? No shame in your answer, but sometimes knowing your why saves you from a lot of salt and unfortunate places. And remember, that even if you're doing it for the photo or the story, or whatever, make sure to live and be there in the moment. And lastly, disappointment isn't failure. You're allowed to not love an experience and still be glad you had it. Not everything has to be amazing to be meaningful. So yeah, the moment didn't slap, but the memory definitely did. And if you're wondering, the photo was definitely worth it. If I could send a postcard to that version of me in my damp towel, brushing shards of salt off my legs and being mildly irritated and filled with deep regret, I would say, traveling isn't always going to be pretty. Sometimes it looks like sitting in the wind, being wildly uncomfortable, and realizing you're still glad you came. It's not always going to be what you pictured, and honestly, that's where most of the good stories live. This isn't the moment you post, but it is the moment you remember. You'll laugh about this. You'll itch, but you'll laugh. And one day it'll remind you that not everything beautiful has to feel good. Sometimes it just has to be real. I've learned to stop chasing perfect moments. Perfect usually means curated, and that's not what I'm here for. I'm here for the salty, slimy, chaotic, kind of gross, but definitely funny memories that stick. Literally and figuratively. Not every adventure is profound. Some are just slightly absurd, and that's the magic of it. This is what Postcards I Never Sent is all about. The in-between moments. The ones that don't get filtered, but stay with you anyway. Thanks for floating through that one with me. If this made you laugh or made you itch just thinking about it, send this episode to a friend who's ever had their expectations hilariously crushed by reality. And if you ever find yourself in a salt pool somewhere on this big, beautiful planet, bring a towel and a way to immediately rinse off. and maybe some snacks. Thanks for listening to my salt-encrusted spiral. If you enjoyed this, leave a review. It helps more messy humans find this show, and honestly, I'd love to know if I'm not the only one spiraling in salty places. Until next time, may your salt stay on fries, not your butt cheeks. This has been Postcards I Never Sent.