April 2, 2018
Our friend, John, had lost his ATM card in the machine at
the HSBC in Bucerias on Friday night, so had been unable to withdraw
pesos. Since it had been my experience
that banks in Mexico will never return your card for security reasons (although
I did once get mine back in Costa Rica when the power went out during a
withdrawal), I suggested that John call his bank first. It turned out that there was an issue with
his account, although we had no idea why they should have confiscated his
card.
Still, John needed pesos, so we
went to Bucerias on Monday morning to try to do something about it.
Don needed to see Dr. Alma about some new glasses, so we
stopped there first. She was swamped
after a three-day weekend, but he was able to make an appointment for the
following day. He then wanted cash, so
we stopped at the CI Bank because we had heard they had the lowest fees. Unfortunately, their ATMs were out of
service. We continued on down the
highway to the Bancomer by the Chedraui because we had been told that they
would change dollars. After waiting in a
very long line, we learned that they only change Canadian dollars. They told us to go back to the CI Bank to
change U.S. dollars. We decided that Don
and I could sell John any pesos he might need for another day and crossed the
highway to visit the Santander bank where I got some cash for my upcoming
trip. A quick stop at the HSBC confirmed
my opinion that John would never see his ATM card again.
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| Not Sure What KFC Would Think About This |
Having finished our tour of banks in Bucerias, we were
hungry. We stopped at the little hole in
the wall Cocina Economica I had discovered on an earlier trip to Bucerias and
had a nice breakfast. Not being used to
the way things are done in Mexico, John and the restaurant employees kept
getting their signals crossed. This
particular restaurant serves instant coffee. If you order it with milk, they
heat the milk for you. Not knowing this,
John ordered and made coffee and then asked for milk. I did my best to tell them we just needed a
little bit, but they insisted on making a whole second cup of hot milk. Then John asked for a glass of water. They had to run to the corner store to get
bottled water for him. He was frustrated
and they were trying very hard to please.
It was uncomfortable for a while.
I had brought us into the one restaurant in Bucerias that does not cater
to tourists! I made coffee out of the
remaining milk so it wouldn’t go to waste.
Fortunately, John didn’t say anything when his huevos rancheros came
with corn tortillas instead of the flour he had ordered.
I left them after breakfast and hopped a bus for
Mezcales. I needed to buy a bus ticket
for my trip to Guadalajara on Saturday.
I also stopped into the pharmacy next door and got a refill of my blood
pressure medication. I was able to
purchase it over the counter. It turned
out to be a lower dose, but that was probably not a bad thing, since my blood
pressure had been extremely low while in Mexico. Another bus brought me home and I spent the
rest of the afternoon preparing for my set at the Octopus’ Garden later that
night.
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| Bill Playing at the Octopus' Garden |
The Octopus’ Garden was having an open mic acoustic
night. I met Don and John there for
dinner and my friend, Marc, joined us.
Alfredo had each performer do a sound check and made sure he had the proper
microphones and/or cables for each of us.
I went third. The first two
musicians both played original music.
Bill played instrumentals and Leo played songs with lyrics in
Spanish. I played a mix of original and
familiar tunes, including the one song I had written in Spanish. It went well.
We started on a second round and Rusty inserted a set of his own songs. My second set was once again a mix, although
the audience seemed to really like my own songs. I ended with Dylan’s The Times They Are A Changin’ 2018 and that was well received. A couple more people arrived and played a few
songs. It was a very relaxed and
pleasant evening. We stayed until 10:30
or so. I was sorry that I wouldn’t be
around the following Monday night.
April 3, 2018
Tuesday was John’s last day in La Cruz, so we met at
Cristi’s for breakfast. We all liked her
café and things went much more smoothly than the previous day. After breakfast, Don headed off to see Dr.
Alma and I said goodbye to John and went off to try (unsuccessfully) to make a
nail appointment. I found the salon
closed, so stopped at the grocery store for a couple of items before walking
home to spend a relaxing afternoon practicing the guitar and working on my blog
post. I even took a nap. For the first time in weeks, I was asleep by
11:00.
April 4, 2018
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| Lazaro Cardenas Street Scene |
Wednesday was the first day in what seemed like forever when
I had no obligations. I got up early and
drank coffee while listening to the net.
Then I spent a long time practicing the guitar. It was nice to be able to work on my actual
guitar playing, rather than rehearsing for a performance. Cherie was off on a motorcycle trip with a
friend and the house was quiet.
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| Wednesday Market in Bucerias |
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| My New Hat |
About noon, I took a bus to Bucerias to pick up my new
glasses. Then I went to Chedraui to buy
coffee filters. I walked along Lazaro
Cardenas on the way. There was a
Wednesday market going on and I stopped to look for a new hat. With a place of my own in La Cruz, I could
finally buy a non-sailing hat without worrying about how I would get it
home. I looked at lots of hats but
couldn’t find one big enough until I got to Chedraui where I actually found one
for 50 pesos. Now I could wear a hat
without looking like a drowned rat.
I considered stopping somewhere for lunch but decided to go
home and make a bacon quesadilla instead.
I spent most of the remaining afternoon reading.
I had promised Cherie that I would meet the landlord at 6:00
when he was supposed to work on the door to our upstairs patio. Actually, there was no door. There was only an iron security gate. Leaves, bugs, and animals were free to enter
at will. When the house was vacant, this
created quite a mess. The landlord’s
solution was to line the door with a sheet of the insulating plastic they use
on windows to keep out heat. This would
keep most things out, but we would need a second screen door if we wanted
air. Still, it was an improvement and
they even caulked around the edges where the frame failed to meet the
masonry. Unfortunately, the frame was
slightly warped and the door was difficult to close. It had always been that way, so at least it
was no worse. We could work on that
later.
By the time the door project was finished, it was too late
to think about going out. I heated up
some leftover beef in green mole and ate dinner at home with my nose stuck in a
book. After dinner, I practiced a bit
more and then wrote before sitting down to watch The Crown on Netflix.
April 5 – 6, 2018
I had no plans for the daylight hours of Thursday. I listened to the net, ate breakfast and then
spent the morning scrubbing the tile on the patio. It was stained with all kinds of paint, tar,
and glue, but I was able to wash away the fly specks, drink spills, and muddy
footprints. If I weren’t planning to
leave in a couple days, a weekly mopping might have helped to keep it clean.
Once the patio was clean, I made some tostadas for lunch and
then sat down to write and practice the guitar.
Don and I met for dinner at Tacos on the Street. The restaurant had celebrated its twenty
fifth anniversary the day before and I had missed the party because I had to
supervise the modifications to our upstairs door. The place was packed as always. I had not been there since the previous year
and found that while, before, their prices were higher than other taquerias,
now they were comparable but the portions had gotten smaller. The quality of the meat hadn’t changed,
however, and their flan was creamy and excellent.
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| The Amphitheater at Sunset |
After dinner, we strolled back to the boat to pick up
cushions and then walked out to the amphitheater were the movie Geostorm was being shown. The movie was somewhat predictable, but
entertaining and it was a beautiful night with perfect weather. There were noticeably fewer people than there
had been the week before. La Cruz was
emptying out quickly.
Friday, I needed to pack and prepare for my upcoming
trip. I got up early and did
laundry. Our washing machine filled so
slowly that we helped it by running the garden hose into it. Otherwise, it would have taken an hour to
fill. This required one to pay
attention, since the water needed to be turned off as soon as the machine
started to agitate. The whole process
then needed to be repeated for the rinse cycle.
I made coffee while that was going on.
As soon as my clothes
were hung out to dry, I walked over the Gabriela’s salon to see about getting
my nails done. I found the gate lowered
and a “for rent” sign on the shop.
Apparently, her operating two shops had only been temporary. She had moved to Bucerias. Normally, I would have just gone out there,
but I was too busy. I went to Cristi’s
for a quick breakfast and then dropped by the workshop where they fabricate
stainless steel because Don had been having trouble contacting them by
telephone. I found them busy cutting
steel and decided not to bother them, but I let Don know they were there.
Next, I dropped by Jen and Gregg’s to say goodbye. I found Casa Mango in an uproar because Jen
and Gregg had just sold the house and all our friends were descending like
vultures to purchase their furniture.
While I knew they had intended to sell the house, this seemed very
sudden to me and kind of sad, although they assured me that they weren’t
leaving La Cruz. Maintaining that big
house was just too much for them. I
purchased a set of bathroom shelves for 100 pesos.
Don had texted back and requested that I talk to Geronimo,
the steelworker, so I went back over there and determined that, yes, he could
make Don a new anchor roller and would be there all day. I informed Don and then carried my
fortunately light shelves all the way across La Cruz to our house. I must have looked a sight. More than one usually friendly dog barked at
me ferociously. On the way, I stopped at
another salon to make a nail appointment for later that afternoon. I felt a little guilty for my disloyalty, but
I was running out of time.
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| My New Nail Salon |
I came back to town at 4:00 to get my nails done and then
decided to head out to the marina to say goodbye to Betty. As I was walking towards her boat, I realized
that it was time for my Friday domino game.
I had had trouble getting there all season for one reason or
another. I was a little late, but still
had time for several games with my friends and got a chance to say goodbye.
When the domino game broke up, I continued out to Betty’s
boat and stayed there, talking with her, until it started to get dark. I couldn’t raise Don, so went home and ate
the last of my leftovers for dinner. I
stopped at the taxi stand at the top of Langosta and made a reservation for the
next morning at 6:00. I had learned the
hard way that the taxis near the marina could not be relied upon to keep early
morning engagements. I read a bit and
then went to bed early. I had to get up
early on Saturday to start my journey to Playa del Carmen.
April 7, 2018
I didn’t sleep well, knowing I had to get up early, so I had
no trouble waking up at 5:15. I got
ready and actually had time to spare before the taxi arrived at six sharp. We drove through the predawn darkness to the
bus station in Mezcales. Carlos had
asked me why I wasn’t getting off at Tlaquepaque to which I had replied,
“Because they don’t stop there.” They
don’t advertise stopping there, but I was curious, so I asked. At first, they denied it, but then admitted
that they could. Another passenger
overheard the conversation and said she wanted to go there, too. I wasn’t certain it would happen, but thought
it was worth a try, since it was closer to the airport. The porters insisted that I check all my
luggage, including my daypack. I barely
had time to grab my passport and medication.
Unfortunately, my map and snacks stayed in the pack.
The bus left at 7:15 and headed up the now familiar road
past Sayulita and San Pancho and then up into the Jalisco highlands. All the curtains were closed, but I caught
glimpses of the blue agave fields as we passed.
Eventually, we entered the Guadalajara metropolitan area and I began to
get restless. Finally, the driver pulled off
the highway and stopped at a taxi stand on the lateral. I didn’t have my map and no one said,
“Tlaquepaque,” but the woman who also wanted to go there was getting off, so I
did, too. I was reassured when the first
taxista I saw shouted, “Aeropuerto, rapido!”
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| T-Shirts at the Airport |
I collected my belongings and climbed into the taxi. It was still a fair distance to the airport,
but only cost me a very fair 300 pesos, which was well below what I had
budgeted for the transfer. I arrived at
the airport by 12:30. I was way ahead of
schedule. Carlos wasn’t there yet (His
watch was on Cabo time and he was an hour behind.),so I went to Starbucks and
had a latte and a very dry limon scone that might once have been tasty.
Carlos arrived well before we started boarding and had
managed to change his seat so that we could sit together. Volaris is one of those “no frills” airlines
and they charge you extra to get an assigned seat. We had debated waiting until the airport and
checking in together, but were afraid that all the seats would be taken by the
time I got there. By some miracle (or
maybe because I had paid extra to check luggage) I was assigned an exit row
seat. Carlos managed to get the seat
next to me, so we traveled in comfort and chatted with a Russian girl who had
the window seat in our row. The flight
to Cancun took nearly three hours. Even
with paying extra for luggage, it had only cost me about $45. The bus to Guadalajara had actually cost me
more than the flight alone.
We arrived on time in Cancun and only had to wait half an
hour or so for the collectivo to fill up enough to leave for Playa del
Carmen. The collectivo cost 340 pesos
per person each way. We could have had a
private taxi for 1500 pesos round trip, which would have been a wash except
that I wasn’t planning to return to the airport.
The collectivo dropped us off at Viva Azteca where I had
requested my reservation. Unfortunately,
what I had received was a reservation at Viva Maya. No one had said a thing to me about the change
and I hadn’t noticed it when I made the reservation because I didn’t have a
printer and hadn’t printed the confirmation. I later learned that they had raised the cost of Viva Azteca and I didn't have enough points, but they should have said something.
The poor desk clerk at Viva Azteca eventually determined
what had happened. They were booked, so
we couldn’t make a change, so we bundled into a taxi and paid 90 pesos to drive four doors down to Viva Maya. We later
learned this was probably fortunate, but was disappointing at the time. I had stayed at Viva Maya before and wanted
to check out the other resort.
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| Our Room at Viva Maya |
The desk clerk at Viva Maya wasn’t nearly as accommodating
and gave me a hassle because I didn’t have a copy of my confirmation. I had it on my computer, but the computer
refused to boot up and we had to summon a supervisor before we were finally
able to check in. I don’t know if it was
because we were late or because we had irritated the clerk, but we didn’t get
the usual welcome packet with the schedule of activities and invitation to
reserve space at the restaurants for dinners.
We were tired and hungry, so skipped the bellboy and went straight to
our room. Carlos was charmed by the mouse created out of a folded towel that had been placed on his bed.
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| Carlos' Mouse |
Fortunately, we hadn’t missed dinner. Neither of us had eaten lunch and it was
then 9:00, so we were hungry. We ate
mediocre food in the dining hall and then went to the bar and ordered
pinacoladas. My status as an owner
entitled us to top shelf liquor, but making a pinacolada any way other than the
standard procedure proved disastrous. My
normal one was good, but Carlos’s proved undrinkable and we had to stop at the
next bar for a replacement. We walked
around the resort and out the to beach.
A show was going on in the theater, but we were too tired to appreciate
the noise and energy. Having surveyed
the layout of the resort, we returned to our room, watched a little TV, and
crashed on our mercifully comfortable beds.
April 8, 2018
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| Espresso Bar at Viva Maya |
Despite having to bed fairly early, we were late rising on
Sunday morning. By the time we stopped
for coffee at the espresso bar and made our way to the dining hall, breakfast
was nearly over. There was a nice
selection of breakfast foods and I enjoyed a couple of slices of French toast
and a bowl of fruit. My only complaint
about pancakes and French toast in Mexico is that, since I don’t use syrup, I
rely on butter to flavor them and the butter in Mexico is nearly always
unsalted (or margarine) and tastes like nothing other than grease. Knowing this, I grabbed some cream cheese and
that worked fine.
We had time after breakfast to relax a bit before going to a merengue lesson at 12:30. Carlos worked
up an appetite dancing, so we went back to the dining hall after that. I had a salad and a piece of focaccia,
determined not to go crazy with the cruise ship-like abundance. We were joined for lunch by our dance
intructress, who we were sure was trying to figure us out. Since I was a gringa old enough to be Carlos’
mother who spoke Spanish and he was a Mexican who spoke perfect English, but
spoke Spanish with a different accent, we were a puzzle.
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| Adults' Pool at Viva Maya |
Carlos needed to go to an Oxxo to pay his credit card
bill. Not having good mail service, most
bills in Mexico arrive via a representative of the company and are paid in
person. We borrowed bicycles from the resort and rode along the pleasant and
mostly shady bike path to the center of Playa del Carmen where we found an Oxxo
across from the ferry terminal. That
mission accomplished, we spent a couple of hours at the adults only pool near
our room, mostly sitting in the lukewarm jacuzzi, talking to a couple from
Kansas who were equally curious about our relationship. They were actually staying at the Viva
Azteca, but reported that it was overrun with children and had no adults only
pool. They had stayed at the Maya before
and were of the opinion that we were fortunate to have been reassigned.
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| Agouti and Coati (long tail) Outside Our Room |
We tried to go to a bachata lesson at 5:00, but it was cut
short after a few minutes when the batteries in the boombox died. We took that as a signal that it was happy
hour, so got cocktails, picked up our books and went to the beach to read until
dinnertime. There was an agouti (kind of
a cross between a rabbit and a deer) sneaking around under the mostly empty
chaises, stealing French fries off abandoned plates. The guests had been exhorted not to feed the
animals, but no one had convinced the animals not to steal the humans’
food. Several species of bird plagued the
diners at the outdoor café and there were coatis, as well.
We had a reservation at the Italian restaurant, Miramare,
located in a gargantuan palapa above the beach bar. The food was excellent,but there were so many
courses that I could only sample each of them.
I started with a cold creamy leek, zucchini, and avocado soup graced
with melon balls and then proceeded to some delicious spinach and cheese
ravioli. Carlos had a salad and some
lasagna, which wasn’t nearly as enticing as the ravioli, which were
divine. We both ordered the stuffed
chicken breast for a second course. Mine
was served with a gorgonzola sauce so rich that I couldn’t eat even half of
it. When the desserts arrived, I could
barely begin to eat mine, although it was amazing. I had a cheese mousse with mixed berries
served in a delicate bowl made of carmelized sugar and topped with both chocolate
and raspberry sauces. I really wanted to
eat it, but I just couldn’t. The only
weak spot in the meal was the red wine, which was only one step above terrible
and contributed mightily to my gastric distress. While I had recently seen a notable improvement
in the wine around La Cruz, the fine wines from northern Baja had yet to arrive
at the Viva Maya.
We went to the show after dinner and that evening they were
staging a contest for Miss Maya. The
four contestants were all rather mature for such a designation, but they were
good sports. The first game was a sexy
dancing contest. The woman from
Argentina was by far the most restrained in her dancing but, also having the best
body by a long shot, was declared the winner by the audience serving as judges. The second contest required a male
partner. I sneakily signaled to the
woman from California to pick Carlos. He
was game. The contest involved bursting
balloons between partners in compromising positions. Carlos and his partner did very well and only
lost by one point.
There was a contest
to name the movie associated with songs as they were played. Finally, each contestant was instructed to
collect as much clothing from the audience as possible. Underwear was worth five points. The contestants ran back and forth,
collecting armfuls of clothing. When
time was called, Carlos and several others were down to their skivvies and a
number of bras had been pulled off through arm holes. Miss California won that contest, but
Argentina was declared the overall winner.
Everyone had a good laugh.
I went back to the room after that, but Carlos headed to the
disco where he met some Canadian lab techs and stayed out late talking to them.
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