Sunday, April 15, 2012
4/15 … Epilogue
Things do seem to be moving along
… the home inspection went well, with just a few small items on the punchlist
which got addressed last week. The
buyers’ mortgage appraiser has also been and gone, so presumably that went well
also. If things continue as planned we
have a 5/3 closing date, and it will be a great boon to have this chapter
tidily closed!
Wednesday, March 28 Most important meal of the day
Tom had kindly left eggs, bacon
& bread on one of his plant-watering runs, so we were well-equipped for
breakfast. After sorting out the souvenirs,
I drove Linda home and confirmed to my agent to accept the higher of the two
responses to our counteroffer. PHEW!
Tuesday, March 27 Leave the money and run
Well,
finally we’ll have to go home. With all
the dithering about the house, I hadn’t gotten down to the pool or shore at
all, so Linda and I strolled down early in the morning. It really was quite idyllic, and we had the
opportunity to meet our host who was out paddle-surfing.
We agreed to meet at 11A and he’d take us to the airport, a pleasant courtesy. Having double-checked all tickets, passports etc. we’re set to go … except that, rather than the invoice I expected in Pay Pal, our host is expecting us to settle in CASH right then and there. Yikes! But it worked out to be PRECISELY the amount of US dollars we had just received from Claudette. So Linda (our designate banker this trip) goes home with a whopping ONE DOLLAR in her wallet, I have about $20. Just a little slim.
We agreed to meet at 11A and he’d take us to the airport, a pleasant courtesy. Having double-checked all tickets, passports etc. we’re set to go … except that, rather than the invoice I expected in Pay Pal, our host is expecting us to settle in CASH right then and there. Yikes! But it worked out to be PRECISELY the amount of US dollars we had just received from Claudette. So Linda (our designate banker this trip) goes home with a whopping ONE DOLLAR in her wallet, I have about $20. Just a little slim.
Leaving
the country was pretty easy. Luggage
gets riffled through, we surrender the remaining half of the immigration form
we’d completed when entering Mexico, and we saunter off to the gate after
purchasing some last-minute remembrances.
The flight to Houston is full, and the immigration line is lengthy but
does keep moving. We were told at the
airport that because we were travelling together we’d only need one US
immigration form, but that didn’t work as we don’t have the same address. Poor Linda was left to de-code a form printed
in Spanish while I processed into the country.
The big snag? SANDWICHES!! Because, you see, we are bringing FOOD into
the country. So I get a monster,
Hester-Prynne-worthy, red A on my form and, naturally, we’re diverted for an
agricultural inspection. The first step
is to muscle your bag onto a conveyor belt which is too steep for most bags, so
you wind up pushing your suitcase uphill until the horizontal belt can catch. I’m in the process of doing that when the
people behind me start loading THEIR bags onto the belt … that was a little
close-in but it all worked out. Then I
spend a good 3 minutes explaining to the health inspector about the
sandwiches: yes, they have meat … COOKED
meat, from last night’s dinner. Yes,
some are chicken and some are beef. Oh,
the longer one is chicken and the rectangular one is beef. Yes, it’s all cooked, by us, very
recently. FINALLY we are waved along
with dinner still intact.
Now
we need to re-check our bags, and then we fall into the food court for a decent
table and a decent dinner. Stand,
stretch, head on down to the gate area.
It’s not especially full, but the gate agent is already calling out
rewards for SOMEONE to volunteer to go home tomorrow. She only needed one person or we might have
thought hard about it, as the plane was due to arrive at O’Hare just before
midnight. But we do board, with our
window/aisle seats, and though the plane is pretty empty, we have a fellow in
the center seat. He’s really, REALLY
interested in being re-seated, but the crew understands more than we do … after
a small delay from scheduled flight time, the plane explodes with people who
have just arrived from Mexico. A good
number are seeking help as they have no English but can see that someone else
is sitting in their assigned seat (we were next-to-last row, so we had pretty
active supervision about seating).
Eventually everyone does get seated and the plane is utterly
packed. We head northeast in darkness
and silence, mostly trying to stay awake.
Arrival
at O’Hare was prompt and so was delivery of our suitcases. The weather was pleasant enough (it had been
warmer in Chicago than in Mexico virtually every day we were gone) so we waited
outside for the limo that a Groupon was supposed to bring us. After a while, Linda calls the agency … to
discover that the number of our flight had changed, it had not occurred to us
to notify them of that … they couldn’t find the flight and no driver is
coming. SIGH!! Back into the terminal to call a suburban
cab, who does come promptly and finds his way into my subtle driveway &
underground parking. He really didn’t
want to take payment on VISA, but since that was our only option, eventually he
caved. We rumbled the luggage onto the
elevator, rose to 4, padded into the apartment and fell right over.
Sunday-Monday, March 25-26 Helter-skelter, and trains
Well,
the absolute story of my life. My
real-estate broker calls with a genuine offer which, truthfully, I was quite
ready to simply accept. He must have put
in a call to the broker for the original low-ball bidders after that, though,
because the next thing I hear is that they’re stepping up their offer … a
LOT. We decide to counter both offers
with the same suggestion. All this
without really functional Internet – we are invited to displace whoever’s doing
their PAYING job in the office and utilize that PC, which we do … of course,
everything’s in Spanish and despite having watched a successful demo, I can’t
get a document to scan and attach. There’s
a fax, which seems to be sending but also is flashing an error message which I
can’t begin to decode. Finally I have
the wit to ask Google to translate it – it’s “please fix the paper jam.” Well THAT was easy enough. I remind all parties and anyone else who will
listen that I will have to make my decision on WEDNESDAY as I’m travelling all
day tomorrow.
Meanwhile,
Claudette’s friend is driving down from her ranch in Tepic and we have
encouraged her to sleep at our pad Monday night rather than drive the twisty,
slow road twice in one day (and going home in darkness). That seemed to be the deal … until Claudette
got a call saying be ready in half-an-hour!
So we had a bit of a flurry of packing, sold the remaining pesos to
Claudette for US dollars, met the friend and several family members, and
stuffed all into the car. PHEW!
Well,
now we have quite a bit of extra chicken for dinner as we had been hoarding for
an additional person, and now we have only two.
No matter, we cook up whatever’s left in the larder and save some for
sandwiches for dinner during our long layover in Houston tomorrow. We’ve been playing a fine board game, British
Rails, all day long and are sorry to have to fold the board up and pack!
Monday, March 26, 2012
Saturday, March 24 -- vacation, part 3
A frenzy of packing-up; our “personals” were pretty well handled last night, but we had provisioned the kitchen pretty well and it all needed to be packed up as well. We surely have returned to the 14 (!) pieces of luggage that we arrived with. Yikes! The baggage handler did manage to fit it all on his big cart, and checkout proceeded without incident (though why we have to stand in line for our official “release slip” when I settled the account last night will remain a mystery). An ample vehicle arrived to drive us over to our new (and final!) abode.
We were given only a street name and the name of the condo development; having asked for more detail we were told “It’s on the same street as the etc. Beach Club.” We did pull that up on the Web, to discover that it’s actually a beach restaurant; this cul-de-sac is the most northerly public entrance to the Nuevo Vallarta beaches. The bellhop recognized the street, and it seemed that our driver had gotten sufficient information … until he stops briefly at an intersection along the way to inquire of the fellows picnicking on the median. He must have been given good advice, as we arrived at the end of a street which, ultimately, was our destination. However, nothing was labeled and he tried one little parking lot; decided that didn’t look right, and pulled up to a massive wooden door with a guardhouse on the left. He has conversation with the guard, who clearly was not expecting company. Eventually, backed up by our printout of the confirmation email, our target unit is identified and it’s decided that we can enter.
We’re up on the second level; the driver, of course, offloaded everything onto the curb and went off to find a new fare. We grabbed something reasonably light and headed upstairs, and were VERY relieved to find we are followed by the guard and another sturdy fellow who rapidly fill the living room with our stuff. We were quite early by check-in standards, so we fled to the balcony to stay out of the cleaning crew’s way as much as possible. The couple who owns the place are currently in different places, the husband who handles the listings is on a temporary gig in La Paz. The wife, a lovely lady, and their small daughter came by to acquaint us with the place and hand over the key.
This is a lovely setting, though the place is quite sterile compared to the heavily-decorated condo on the hillside. No matter, we are mere steps from the beach and the sound of the ocean rolling in all day and night is delightful. We overlook the smaller of the two pools here, and tall palms nod within arm’s reach. We’re bereft of internet access, a mixed blessing but probably a good de-tox for us all.
Friday, March 23 – another walk on the beach
Looks like my given role is to be first up after a late night, who knew? Up late isn’t usually my best event, but I was out for a beach stroll early this morning. I was reminded of a brief, happy encounter as we were ambling around the pools earlier in the week, when a woman came up behind me and complimented me on my jeans. It´s been a long, LONG time since I earned a compliment from behind!
After enjoying breakfast, Linda & Claudette went on down to the lazy river and some poolside reading; I got to work on the next needlework piece … to discover that I’m in need of some recalibration time. I’m moving from a yarn-based piece to a very fine counted-cross-stitch and found I could barely make out the stitching! A little concentration on the chart allowed me to determine where I’d left off and I did make a bit of progress, but had to chuckle at myself when, having already removed my glasses, I went to take them off AGAIN to make the close work easier. LOL!
To simplify our relocation in the morning, we enjoyed a torta using up the remaining eggs. Well-browned potatoes as the base, with a nice layer of sautéed onions & mushrooms. Though the pan had no non-stick coating, it generously ceded the eggs when asked politely. We all made some progress toward packing up, and I went down to formally check out and simplify our departure.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Thursday, March 22 – Rhythms of the Morning, Rhythms of the Night
Having scrupulously filled out the laundry form last night, we call down to have the clothing picked up and suddenly I’m filled with misgivings. I call the dispatcher to check pricing – Linda had been told 80 pesos for up to 14# of clothes in the wash. The itemized pricing on the form we’d completed would total to more … a LOT more. The dispatcher confirmed that if his person picked up the clothes and the form, we’d be charged the rate on the form. Linda gets back together with the concierge desk, NOW to be told that for 140 pesos we can do our OWN laundry. This makes much better sense, so we try to cancel the pickup but ultimately the person arrives anyway. We say we’ve changed our mind, and thanks.
I amble on down to the concierge desk to acquire the tokens, incidentally identifying the location of the lavanderia enroute. It turns out the price all depends on your status when you made the reservation…whatever. It’s a WHOLE LOT cheaper than sending it to the fill-out-the-form place. I am amused to note an astonishingly effective way to eliminate confusion in translation – the token for the washer is clipped off on two sides, making it a rectangle with rounded shorter ends. The dryer token is a traditional coin. So … you can’t confuse them because you’ll always wash before you dry, and the dryer token won’t fit in the washer at all. Cute!!
Back in the room I pack up a few amusements and the clothes and head back to the main floor to launder. We have 13# so it all will fit. There are uncomfortable chairs in the small laundry room, but comfortable ones in the elevator lobby, so I just keep half an eye out for traffic in or out of the room. Everything goes smoothly and we have plenty of clean clothes to see us through our remaining stay and beyond.
I’m beginning to feel the “pressure” of a trip’s last few days … pill boxes are emptying, we have pretty specific plans for all the groceries we have in inventory, we’re doing our last planned event tonight. On the one hand it seems like I’ve been away from home forever, on the other hand it feels like we’ll be going back all too soon. And I haven’t gotten NEAR enough reading done compared to my (possibly dopey) goals. But at least all the periodicals are handled, and I’ve been happy to have Linda & Claudette soaking them up as well. We left a couple, as well as the first Stephanie Plum book, at the condo on the hillside and expect to leave the second Stephanie at the next condo. So that’s two not to take home, progress is made.
As the day pleasantly wears on, Linda and Claudette return from the pool deck and we gradually prepare for the evening outing. I am nonplussed to find ONE MORE PERIODICAL hiding in my tote. Oh well, something to do tomorrow.
It’s a quick cab to the departure point, and we snag boarding numbers 47, 48 & 49. This is lucky as they board by even tens! After chillin’ in the waiting area, with some entertainment by a talented mime, we board the catamaran for the about-an-hour ride to the evening venue. Drinks are flowing, and a good number of people opt for seats on the front deck. ERROR!! The ocean is quite choppy and waves are breaking over the right front corner; the willowy & sultry Italian-esque woman in clinging dress and 5” platform heels and her Latin-esque, unbuttoned-to-the-waist escort are the first to bolt. Eventually, there’s one mid-grade-school boy and his dad; dad is seated back-to-the-pilot and dry, the son is reveling in the waves, arms outstretched to greet the spray. For a while. Then he’s good and soaked and just waits it out beside Dad.
The crew is, of course, chipper and welcoming. We’re given some time to introduce ourselves to “everyone else on the boat” and we are drilled in chanting “BOAT ONE” – AND given little pink stickers to identify ourselves as members of that team – so that when it’s time to go home we go the way we came. I am meditating on what the crews must see week-in and week-out … both the evening tours have had an alarming emphasis on learning how to get home while you’re still sober enough to care.
With the lowering skies and splashing waves, the plastic walls are soon pulled down, though I’m on the aisle and still do get a regular misting even 3 rows back. It’s all good, not enough to get soaked. There’s no lovely sunset tonight, but the view Tuesday was so magnificent I feel it all averages out. Once we arrive at the island, it’s a challenge to leave the boat which is rocking a lot. The crew & land staff are solicitous and helpful and, gingerly, we all do arrive on terra firma again – even our passenger in a wheelchair. I’m impressed!
As we boarded, we were asked how many would be sitting together for dinner. There were a number of buffet lines here; we were directed to an upper terrace where several tables-for-3 were laid. This was a nice upgrade from the Tuesday night “family-style” seating, though in the end we had prime accommodations with our table only partially filled that night. THIS night, we had a round table which could have seated 4, the empty place was snuggled against the railing so we could look out to sea as we enjoyed dinner. A competent buffet, if much less than gourmet, certainly as good as one would expect. And, for better or worse, a welcome break from rice/beans/salsa – it was pretty Americanized fare. There was a splendid dessert selection, even though we shared we all ate entirely too much of it.
After a relaxed meal period, we meandered around the trails a bit and found a line forming which we HOPED would lead us into the performance amphitheater. After a good wait, it did; of course you couldn’t get down to your seat without posing for a photo with a couple of costumed accomplices. We had second-row seats (benches) and were treated to quite a nice show once the obligatory Adirondack-humor warm-up session was completed. With elements of Cirque de Soleil, Lion King, and Barnum & Bailey, there was plenty to “ooh and aah” over and well-earned applause at the end.
Back to the boat (BOAT ONE!!) and an hour back to port; some amusement provided by members of the crew and a few drafted passengers. It actually seemed warmer coming back, probably the wind was behind us. I never needed to put on my windbreaker! We arrived back in the room and Linda checked her pedometer – a paltry 260 steps? Oh, yes! It’s past midnight! And so, to bed.
I amble on down to the concierge desk to acquire the tokens, incidentally identifying the location of the lavanderia enroute. It turns out the price all depends on your status when you made the reservation…whatever. It’s a WHOLE LOT cheaper than sending it to the fill-out-the-form place. I am amused to note an astonishingly effective way to eliminate confusion in translation – the token for the washer is clipped off on two sides, making it a rectangle with rounded shorter ends. The dryer token is a traditional coin. So … you can’t confuse them because you’ll always wash before you dry, and the dryer token won’t fit in the washer at all. Cute!!
Back in the room I pack up a few amusements and the clothes and head back to the main floor to launder. We have 13# so it all will fit. There are uncomfortable chairs in the small laundry room, but comfortable ones in the elevator lobby, so I just keep half an eye out for traffic in or out of the room. Everything goes smoothly and we have plenty of clean clothes to see us through our remaining stay and beyond.
I’m beginning to feel the “pressure” of a trip’s last few days … pill boxes are emptying, we have pretty specific plans for all the groceries we have in inventory, we’re doing our last planned event tonight. On the one hand it seems like I’ve been away from home forever, on the other hand it feels like we’ll be going back all too soon. And I haven’t gotten NEAR enough reading done compared to my (possibly dopey) goals. But at least all the periodicals are handled, and I’ve been happy to have Linda & Claudette soaking them up as well. We left a couple, as well as the first Stephanie Plum book, at the condo on the hillside and expect to leave the second Stephanie at the next condo. So that’s two not to take home, progress is made.
As the day pleasantly wears on, Linda and Claudette return from the pool deck and we gradually prepare for the evening outing. I am nonplussed to find ONE MORE PERIODICAL hiding in my tote. Oh well, something to do tomorrow.
It’s a quick cab to the departure point, and we snag boarding numbers 47, 48 & 49. This is lucky as they board by even tens! After chillin’ in the waiting area, with some entertainment by a talented mime, we board the catamaran for the about-an-hour ride to the evening venue. Drinks are flowing, and a good number of people opt for seats on the front deck. ERROR!! The ocean is quite choppy and waves are breaking over the right front corner; the willowy & sultry Italian-esque woman in clinging dress and 5” platform heels and her Latin-esque, unbuttoned-to-the-waist escort are the first to bolt. Eventually, there’s one mid-grade-school boy and his dad; dad is seated back-to-the-pilot and dry, the son is reveling in the waves, arms outstretched to greet the spray. For a while. Then he’s good and soaked and just waits it out beside Dad.
The crew is, of course, chipper and welcoming. We’re given some time to introduce ourselves to “everyone else on the boat” and we are drilled in chanting “BOAT ONE” – AND given little pink stickers to identify ourselves as members of that team – so that when it’s time to go home we go the way we came. I am meditating on what the crews must see week-in and week-out … both the evening tours have had an alarming emphasis on learning how to get home while you’re still sober enough to care.
With the lowering skies and splashing waves, the plastic walls are soon pulled down, though I’m on the aisle and still do get a regular misting even 3 rows back. It’s all good, not enough to get soaked. There’s no lovely sunset tonight, but the view Tuesday was so magnificent I feel it all averages out. Once we arrive at the island, it’s a challenge to leave the boat which is rocking a lot. The crew & land staff are solicitous and helpful and, gingerly, we all do arrive on terra firma again – even our passenger in a wheelchair. I’m impressed!
As we boarded, we were asked how many would be sitting together for dinner. There were a number of buffet lines here; we were directed to an upper terrace where several tables-for-3 were laid. This was a nice upgrade from the Tuesday night “family-style” seating, though in the end we had prime accommodations with our table only partially filled that night. THIS night, we had a round table which could have seated 4, the empty place was snuggled against the railing so we could look out to sea as we enjoyed dinner. A competent buffet, if much less than gourmet, certainly as good as one would expect. And, for better or worse, a welcome break from rice/beans/salsa – it was pretty Americanized fare. There was a splendid dessert selection, even though we shared we all ate entirely too much of it.
After a relaxed meal period, we meandered around the trails a bit and found a line forming which we HOPED would lead us into the performance amphitheater. After a good wait, it did; of course you couldn’t get down to your seat without posing for a photo with a couple of costumed accomplices. We had second-row seats (benches) and were treated to quite a nice show once the obligatory Adirondack-humor warm-up session was completed. With elements of Cirque de Soleil, Lion King, and Barnum & Bailey, there was plenty to “ooh and aah” over and well-earned applause at the end.
Back to the boat (BOAT ONE!!) and an hour back to port; some amusement provided by members of the crew and a few drafted passengers. It actually seemed warmer coming back, probably the wind was behind us. I never needed to put on my windbreaker! We arrived back in the room and Linda checked her pedometer – a paltry 260 steps? Oh, yes! It’s past midnight! And so, to bed.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Wednesday, March 21 – “free” day
This morning I shook off my role of “official slug” and went out early to find the ocean shore. Linda and Claudette were well asleep as I tip-toed out of the room and headed west. It wasn’t difficult to find a path that, eventually, got to the beach. Everything is beautifully planted and maintained, so naturally the paths meander and provide a different vista around each turn. The beach was thinly populated at about 8AM, and I enjoyed a long stroll to the sound of the breakers rolling in. The ocean itself was WELL populated with fishing & pleasure boats getting about the business of the day, and it was easy to see how the midday crowds would fill the sand. It was very peaceful, though, except for the visual interruption of the very tall emergency pole from which warning flags would fly to alert marine interests as needed. The hotel makes it very clear that the oceanside itself is government territory, and you go there at your own risk. Mother Nature is not always predictable OR kind.
Back up in the room, everyone was now up and we enjoyed a light breakfast. We somewhat went our own ways; I’d finished National Geographic – the FINAL magazine! -- and started the second Stephanie Plum book and was concentrating on completing the needlework piece (DONE!). With that major goal accomplished, whoever’s been keeping the records for the “how long will she last” pool now knows: I have completed my 1st crossword in 10 whole days … few would have bet I’d last that long.
Mid-afternoon we organized ourselves to head out to Wal-Mart for groceries for the remainder of the week. List in hand, I negotiated successfully with the butcher to package the correct three steaks in one tray, and then split 7 chicken breasts among three trays, 3/3/1. I think both of us were pretty pleased with ourselves. Continuing through the store, we completed our tasks and added some fun breakfast pastries as well. Shaking off some dude who wanted to sell us a timeshare, we found the cab dispatcher and got a safe ride back to the hotel.
Dinner utilized the Thai-style peanut sauce we’d purchased at the farmer’s market Saturday, a big glumph of caramelized onions, a poblano pepper and some pseudo-zucchini squashes to make a pretty tasty dish. We discussed getting laundry done tomorrow as the condo to which we’ll move for our final segment does not have on-site facilities. And, we went to bed at a sensible hour!
Back up in the room, everyone was now up and we enjoyed a light breakfast. We somewhat went our own ways; I’d finished National Geographic – the FINAL magazine! -- and started the second Stephanie Plum book and was concentrating on completing the needlework piece (DONE!). With that major goal accomplished, whoever’s been keeping the records for the “how long will she last” pool now knows: I have completed my 1st crossword in 10 whole days … few would have bet I’d last that long.
Mid-afternoon we organized ourselves to head out to Wal-Mart for groceries for the remainder of the week. List in hand, I negotiated successfully with the butcher to package the correct three steaks in one tray, and then split 7 chicken breasts among three trays, 3/3/1. I think both of us were pretty pleased with ourselves. Continuing through the store, we completed our tasks and added some fun breakfast pastries as well. Shaking off some dude who wanted to sell us a timeshare, we found the cab dispatcher and got a safe ride back to the hotel.
Dinner utilized the Thai-style peanut sauce we’d purchased at the farmer’s market Saturday, a big glumph of caramelized onions, a poblano pepper and some pseudo-zucchini squashes to make a pretty tasty dish. We discussed getting laundry done tomorrow as the condo to which we’ll move for our final segment does not have on-site facilities. And, we went to bed at a sensible hour!
Tuesday, March 20 – Confusion & FIESTA!!
In the evening we would head out to a “true Mexican Fiesta,” so we went down to the pool area for the morning. One offering is a “lazy river” which circulates around a large, undulating channel. You pick up a giant inner tube, sit into it, lean back and let the “river” carry you along. This had a few waterfalls and a couple of “islands” where the channel split for a brief time, just to keep things a little interesting. I went around a couple of times and then headed for a shadier place, ultimately retreating to our room for sun safety. Linda & Claudette rejoined after a while and we had a light lunch.
Linda and I set off to untangle a mystery … why was the rate quoted for our Thursday excursion showing very different values on the order form vs. the charge-card receipt? We had a pleasant stroll over to another building which houses the tour desk, and though it was a major DOH! moment, it was an easy explanation … one figure was in dollars, the other in pesos. Both currencies use the $ so it wasn’t QUITE as obvious as it might seem, and in any event, it was nice to know all was good.
The meeting point for the bus to the Fiesta was described in a somewhat confusing manner – find this hotel, then find the Pemex gas station & affiliated OXXO. The driver was all ready to drop us at the hotel, but he figured out quickly where we truly needed to be and got us there. After a few minutes the bus arrived, but we didn’t leave on time. Apparently there was another party expected, but after about 10 minutes’ grace, we departed anyway. Two more pickup stops resulted in a few more passengers than seats, so a small van arrived to get everyone safely to the ranch.
The drive to the ranch was incredible. We’re in a full-sized tour bus, grinching through these tiny, narrow streets with lots of speed humps and lots of turns. I doubt anyone among us, except of course the driver and the guide, expected to complete the obstacle course without making contact with SOMETHING. Then once we cleared the urban area, we’re on lumpy country road and a steep ascent up to the ranch.
The evening was delightful. We were met with trays of liquid refreshment (a straw meant it was “virgin”), a plate of beans & salsa & corn chips, and an invitation to gather near the corral. Soon several riders galloped in, including a young lady in a traditional very wide skirt which almost covered her steed. The horses showed off various skills which a bit north might have been called dressage; then one of the cowboys showed off his skills with his lasso. Quite impressive, and of course the horse was a key assistant as the rope went whizzing around both of them, the rider stood up on the horse’s back to do further rope tricks, and the brave critter stood calmly through it all.
Now it was time for dinner; everyone found tables and we were called in turn to the generous buffet. If you got through all that you could return for dessert: fruit leathers, a custard tart, “cinnamon tortillas” which were much like pizelles. Quite a feast.
The dining & performance area overlooked the town & coastline, and we had a truly dandy sunset as dinner came to a close. Our table was not entirely full, but we were joined by a woman attending alone (her travelling companion had to cancel due to illness). As we made our introductions, we were surprised to find we were all from the Chicago area, she lives in Hyde Park. So we had pleasant conversation. Our table staff ensured that anything we desired to eat or drink was immediately at hand.
After the sky was dark, the dance performance began. This troupe of a dozen has been touring international dance exhibitions representing Mexico, and offered an interesting variety of dances from the various Mexican states. The costumes were beautiful and the dancing seemed quite inspired; the ladies tossing their yards and yards of skirting around and the fellows stealing kisses (maybe).
Two of the gentlemen did an amazing sequence of moves with serving platters of beer & glasses full of … well, probably it WAS water, but it’s fun to think otherwise. After a lot of moving around the stage and tap dancing, they capped it with a whirling-dervish impression that resulted in the water rotating up and out of the glasses – and at no time did the tray threaten to tip or drop. Amazing!
The ladies came out with their own balancing act – each one had a candle in a jar on her head. The stage lights were out, and a ghostly dance ensued with the women in white costumes and the candles flickering. These were not the dances with which we were familiar, that’s for sure!
In a wrap-up, the men carried pairs of machetes and after performing a number of complex steps with and without the ladies, the dance completed with the men sparring with their knives so energetically that the sparks literally flew from the blades. Then the rope-master came out again for a show on the stage, if anything even more impressive than his tricks while mounted. The live mariachi band played with brio and enhanced the energy the performers were exhibiting. Quite an evening!
We were invited to move to the overlook for a final surprise, and after we had a few minutes to drink in the view of the city lights, a brief fireworks display brought the show to an end. The bus was escorted down the dark hillside by a pickup trick from the ranch, and we again picked our way through the narrow, though less-populated now, streets of town. Back home about 11P and definitely ready for bed!
Linda and I set off to untangle a mystery … why was the rate quoted for our Thursday excursion showing very different values on the order form vs. the charge-card receipt? We had a pleasant stroll over to another building which houses the tour desk, and though it was a major DOH! moment, it was an easy explanation … one figure was in dollars, the other in pesos. Both currencies use the $ so it wasn’t QUITE as obvious as it might seem, and in any event, it was nice to know all was good.
The meeting point for the bus to the Fiesta was described in a somewhat confusing manner – find this hotel, then find the Pemex gas station & affiliated OXXO. The driver was all ready to drop us at the hotel, but he figured out quickly where we truly needed to be and got us there. After a few minutes the bus arrived, but we didn’t leave on time. Apparently there was another party expected, but after about 10 minutes’ grace, we departed anyway. Two more pickup stops resulted in a few more passengers than seats, so a small van arrived to get everyone safely to the ranch.
The drive to the ranch was incredible. We’re in a full-sized tour bus, grinching through these tiny, narrow streets with lots of speed humps and lots of turns. I doubt anyone among us, except of course the driver and the guide, expected to complete the obstacle course without making contact with SOMETHING. Then once we cleared the urban area, we’re on lumpy country road and a steep ascent up to the ranch.
The evening was delightful. We were met with trays of liquid refreshment (a straw meant it was “virgin”), a plate of beans & salsa & corn chips, and an invitation to gather near the corral. Soon several riders galloped in, including a young lady in a traditional very wide skirt which almost covered her steed. The horses showed off various skills which a bit north might have been called dressage; then one of the cowboys showed off his skills with his lasso. Quite impressive, and of course the horse was a key assistant as the rope went whizzing around both of them, the rider stood up on the horse’s back to do further rope tricks, and the brave critter stood calmly through it all.
Now it was time for dinner; everyone found tables and we were called in turn to the generous buffet. If you got through all that you could return for dessert: fruit leathers, a custard tart, “cinnamon tortillas” which were much like pizelles. Quite a feast.
The dining & performance area overlooked the town & coastline, and we had a truly dandy sunset as dinner came to a close. Our table was not entirely full, but we were joined by a woman attending alone (her travelling companion had to cancel due to illness). As we made our introductions, we were surprised to find we were all from the Chicago area, she lives in Hyde Park. So we had pleasant conversation. Our table staff ensured that anything we desired to eat or drink was immediately at hand.
After the sky was dark, the dance performance began. This troupe of a dozen has been touring international dance exhibitions representing Mexico, and offered an interesting variety of dances from the various Mexican states. The costumes were beautiful and the dancing seemed quite inspired; the ladies tossing their yards and yards of skirting around and the fellows stealing kisses (maybe).
Two of the gentlemen did an amazing sequence of moves with serving platters of beer & glasses full of … well, probably it WAS water, but it’s fun to think otherwise. After a lot of moving around the stage and tap dancing, they capped it with a whirling-dervish impression that resulted in the water rotating up and out of the glasses – and at no time did the tray threaten to tip or drop. Amazing!
The ladies came out with their own balancing act – each one had a candle in a jar on her head. The stage lights were out, and a ghostly dance ensued with the women in white costumes and the candles flickering. These were not the dances with which we were familiar, that’s for sure!
In a wrap-up, the men carried pairs of machetes and after performing a number of complex steps with and without the ladies, the dance completed with the men sparring with their knives so energetically that the sparks literally flew from the blades. Then the rope-master came out again for a show on the stage, if anything even more impressive than his tricks while mounted. The live mariachi band played with brio and enhanced the energy the performers were exhibiting. Quite an evening!
We were invited to move to the overlook for a final surprise, and after we had a few minutes to drink in the view of the city lights, a brief fireworks display brought the show to an end. The bus was escorted down the dark hillside by a pickup trick from the ranch, and we again picked our way through the narrow, though less-populated now, streets of town. Back home about 11P and definitely ready for bed!
Monday, March 19 – Escape to Paradise Tour
Finished Chicago, Mental Floss, The Progressive over the past couple days, and good progress on the needlework. Hooray!
Random observation: Mexican dairy products are looser than their Yanqui counterparts. Butter collapses rather than spreads; yogurt is flaccid in the spoon. It all TASTES fine, but the consistency is consistently odd.
This morning we connected with our “Escape to Paradise” tour at 9AM and certainly had a day of it. The bus picked people up from two additional meeting points, and then we were sorted out by tour itinerary. Our tour began in downtown Puerto Vallerta, and though we had seen a number of places before, we learned a little something from the tour guide at each stop. One of the features of sidewalks downtown is a river of smooth “river rocks” winding through each slab of concrete (indeed, I saw fresh concrete being poured around the mold for the river-rock insertion, it was unusual to see that empty groove down the middle of the square). On the long waterfront promenade called the Malacon, the stone inserts are in much more interesting patterns. Turns out these are traditional representations of local items (the sun, a tarantula, a scorpion, various marine life) which alternate styles between the two neighboring states which “greater Vallerta” spans.
The main church is an olio of varying styles because it was funded “as-you-go” and at a point the money dried up altogether … so people started trucking in their own boulders & bricks from home to keep things progressing. Very nice!! And to cap it off, the vendor selling freshly candied local fruit came highly recommended. We picked up coconut and also pineapple and are pretending it’s at least a little healthy
After soaking up some downtown history, we stopped at a jewelry store where items are often customized right on the spot. I found a chain which, with any luck, will allow me to again wear the intricately-carved jade piece I bought many years back in Hong Kong.
Finally, we were awarded some free time to wander the local flea market. Happily, only a very few key purchases called out to be made before we met up with the bus for the second half.
Clambering back onto the vehicle, we set off for the mountains. This actually retraced our route to the Botanical Gardens for a good way, but we were able to stop at several lovely overlooks and soak in views of Banderas Bay. A bit before the Gardens, we turned off of the main road and jolted down to a boutique tequila distillery.
Our guide, who looked “barely legal” to these parental eyes, assured us that he was the third generation involved in the business … but quipped that they’d been open legally for a scant three years. He explained that their agave fields were further inland so the plants wouldn’t be tainted with the salty sea air. The process of cleaving, steaming, and pulverizing the bulb of the plant is extremely laborious and done mostly by hand … with the assistance of the occasional mule! They make 3 flavors and 2 unflavored versions (aged for different periods) of their tequila. Though it’s not stocked in stores, the production level doesn’t support that, we recognized the label from the shop at the Botanical Gardens. Indeed, we were to meet it again in a small-volume environment!
We enjoyed generous samples and then had to gather our wits and decide what to purchase. A good assortment among us…hope it all makes it back to Glenview!
After wrapping up at the distillery, we bussed across the street and down a steep hill to a delightful fish & seafood restaurant right on the bank of a river. The weather was perfect and we enjoyed our meal in an open-air setting. Not being a shellfish person, I opted for a grilled, small red snapper. Linda & Claudette bravely ordered the “combo plate” for two … a split whole lobster, the same red snapper I had for lunch, 2 crabs, several shrimp cooked in several ways, a mahi-mahi fillet, and at least one other hunk-o-fish on the monster serving platter. They bravely dug in and pretty much finished it off … but no one felt the need for dinner THIS night.
A nice feature of the bus tours is that though you get picked up from only a few “meeting places,” at the end they deliver you right to your hotel door. Pretty good thing, given all the tequila & beer that the group had consumed. Home around six, we just hung out until we all started yawning.
Random observation: Mexican dairy products are looser than their Yanqui counterparts. Butter collapses rather than spreads; yogurt is flaccid in the spoon. It all TASTES fine, but the consistency is consistently odd.
This morning we connected with our “Escape to Paradise” tour at 9AM and certainly had a day of it. The bus picked people up from two additional meeting points, and then we were sorted out by tour itinerary. Our tour began in downtown Puerto Vallerta, and though we had seen a number of places before, we learned a little something from the tour guide at each stop. One of the features of sidewalks downtown is a river of smooth “river rocks” winding through each slab of concrete (indeed, I saw fresh concrete being poured around the mold for the river-rock insertion, it was unusual to see that empty groove down the middle of the square). On the long waterfront promenade called the Malacon, the stone inserts are in much more interesting patterns. Turns out these are traditional representations of local items (the sun, a tarantula, a scorpion, various marine life) which alternate styles between the two neighboring states which “greater Vallerta” spans.
The main church is an olio of varying styles because it was funded “as-you-go” and at a point the money dried up altogether … so people started trucking in their own boulders & bricks from home to keep things progressing. Very nice!! And to cap it off, the vendor selling freshly candied local fruit came highly recommended. We picked up coconut and also pineapple and are pretending it’s at least a little healthy
After soaking up some downtown history, we stopped at a jewelry store where items are often customized right on the spot. I found a chain which, with any luck, will allow me to again wear the intricately-carved jade piece I bought many years back in Hong Kong.
Finally, we were awarded some free time to wander the local flea market. Happily, only a very few key purchases called out to be made before we met up with the bus for the second half.
Clambering back onto the vehicle, we set off for the mountains. This actually retraced our route to the Botanical Gardens for a good way, but we were able to stop at several lovely overlooks and soak in views of Banderas Bay. A bit before the Gardens, we turned off of the main road and jolted down to a boutique tequila distillery.
Our guide, who looked “barely legal” to these parental eyes, assured us that he was the third generation involved in the business … but quipped that they’d been open legally for a scant three years. He explained that their agave fields were further inland so the plants wouldn’t be tainted with the salty sea air. The process of cleaving, steaming, and pulverizing the bulb of the plant is extremely laborious and done mostly by hand … with the assistance of the occasional mule! They make 3 flavors and 2 unflavored versions (aged for different periods) of their tequila. Though it’s not stocked in stores, the production level doesn’t support that, we recognized the label from the shop at the Botanical Gardens. Indeed, we were to meet it again in a small-volume environment!
We enjoyed generous samples and then had to gather our wits and decide what to purchase. A good assortment among us…hope it all makes it back to Glenview!
After wrapping up at the distillery, we bussed across the street and down a steep hill to a delightful fish & seafood restaurant right on the bank of a river. The weather was perfect and we enjoyed our meal in an open-air setting. Not being a shellfish person, I opted for a grilled, small red snapper. Linda & Claudette bravely ordered the “combo plate” for two … a split whole lobster, the same red snapper I had for lunch, 2 crabs, several shrimp cooked in several ways, a mahi-mahi fillet, and at least one other hunk-o-fish on the monster serving platter. They bravely dug in and pretty much finished it off … but no one felt the need for dinner THIS night.
A nice feature of the bus tours is that though you get picked up from only a few “meeting places,” at the end they deliver you right to your hotel door. Pretty good thing, given all the tequila & beer that the group had consumed. Home around six, we just hung out until we all started yawning.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Sunday, March 18 – buffet & financial analysis
We receive not one but TWO reminder calls to keep our date for breakfast. SHEESH! We’re honest (if simple) folks here! So we arrive on time and are mated with a loquacious gentleman who provides information at some good length and then takes us out to breakfast. WELL!
Breakfast is at the “buffet restaurant” and good heavens. There were at least four, maybe five, buffet setups plus omelet stations, crepe station, and probably a few things I’ve forgotten. The fresh fruit display was dazzling, and complemented by house-made cottage cheese and yogurt. I passed on the omelets in favor of a wide variety of Mexican-inflected choices (pork roast in adobo, beans several ways, green-tomato-and-chicken mini-crepes just to name one side of one buffet station). Showing interest in the brisket got a good quarter-pound slab, and the pan-roasted potatoes were fabulous. Had to ignore the very enticing bread table in order to hit the sweet breads and dessert line. Didn’t have it in me to pay homage to the Japanese sushi and tempura, alluring as they were, and the (I could NOT make this up) array of the top 5 dishes purchased in Japan last night.
Our handler, of course, was the 4th at our table and we continued the conversation throughout the meal. There was more to consider than we had expected, and in the end I “sold” them some existing vacation-point assets for a more-flexible program with better properties. Time will tell, but since I had Linda and Claudette listening in and asking additional questions, I think it’s a good thing.
By then, we were very substantially past the advertised 90-minute promotional period … it was early afternoon. We headed back to the room to recoup for a bit; then found the on-site (and predictably dramatically overpriced) grocery-ette and decided to just order up pizza and make a decent salad out of the vegetables remaining from Puerto Vallarta. My decision to buy meant substantial savings for an evening outing planned for Thursday, plus better wristbands
So we’re chillin’ (actually, it’s kind of humid and muggy here at the moment) and preparing for a relaxed evening. Tomorrow we have a bus tour which was tossed in because we were such nice people during the sales pitch (wink, wink); we’ll visit a bunch of places including a tequila factory. Seems like we won’t be up too late tomorrow evening either!
Breakfast is at the “buffet restaurant” and good heavens. There were at least four, maybe five, buffet setups plus omelet stations, crepe station, and probably a few things I’ve forgotten. The fresh fruit display was dazzling, and complemented by house-made cottage cheese and yogurt. I passed on the omelets in favor of a wide variety of Mexican-inflected choices (pork roast in adobo, beans several ways, green-tomato-and-chicken mini-crepes just to name one side of one buffet station). Showing interest in the brisket got a good quarter-pound slab, and the pan-roasted potatoes were fabulous. Had to ignore the very enticing bread table in order to hit the sweet breads and dessert line. Didn’t have it in me to pay homage to the Japanese sushi and tempura, alluring as they were, and the (I could NOT make this up) array of the top 5 dishes purchased in Japan last night.
Our handler, of course, was the 4th at our table and we continued the conversation throughout the meal. There was more to consider than we had expected, and in the end I “sold” them some existing vacation-point assets for a more-flexible program with better properties. Time will tell, but since I had Linda and Claudette listening in and asking additional questions, I think it’s a good thing.
By then, we were very substantially past the advertised 90-minute promotional period … it was early afternoon. We headed back to the room to recoup for a bit; then found the on-site (and predictably dramatically overpriced) grocery-ette and decided to just order up pizza and make a decent salad out of the vegetables remaining from Puerto Vallarta. My decision to buy meant substantial savings for an evening outing planned for Thursday, plus better wristbands
So we’re chillin’ (actually, it’s kind of humid and muggy here at the moment) and preparing for a relaxed evening. Tomorrow we have a bus tour which was tossed in because we were such nice people during the sales pitch (wink, wink); we’ll visit a bunch of places including a tequila factory. Seems like we won’t be up too late tomorrow evening either!
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Saturday, March 17 – Farmers’ market, pack’n’move
We went downtown early to catch the weekly “Farmers’ Market.” It was advertised to be just two blocks down a familiar street, but the street goes straight up for a block so we went around on more level ground. On the other side there was a steep set of concrete stairs we’d have had to clamber down … we surely made the correct choice. The market was more of a “home kitchen” affair, lots of baked goods, jams & jellies, and sauces. We did find strawberries (which we’d overheard people recommending highly), some granola, two fine-looking loaves of bread, and some peanut sauce … we’ll make satay one day soon!
Having completed the market tour (we could have made lunch AND dinner off of the samples) we ambled down to the frozen yogurt stand at the shoreline. We were too early, but happy enough to just sit, enjoy the ocean breeze, and watch the waves come in. The beach filled in gradually, the yogurt froze gradually, and around 11A we enjoyed a reprise of the orange/plain yogurt swirl we’d liked so well a few days ago.
Then it was time to stand up and stretch and find a cab back up the amazing hillside. Linda made a video which we hope to get posted somewhere so you, too, can share the experience. We got pretty much packed up and at the moment we’re just passing time until our ride arrives at 2:30. Then we plan to lay in some wine at the thrifty wine store downtown and we’ll be off to the Mayan Palace in Nuevo Vallerta.
Having completed the market tour (we could have made lunch AND dinner off of the samples) we ambled down to the frozen yogurt stand at the shoreline. We were too early, but happy enough to just sit, enjoy the ocean breeze, and watch the waves come in. The beach filled in gradually, the yogurt froze gradually, and around 11A we enjoyed a reprise of the orange/plain yogurt swirl we’d liked so well a few days ago.
Then it was time to stand up and stretch and find a cab back up the amazing hillside. Linda made a video which we hope to get posted somewhere so you, too, can share the experience. We got pretty much packed up and at the moment we’re just passing time until our ride arrives at 2:30. Then we plan to lay in some wine at the thrifty wine store downtown and we’ll be off to the Mayan Palace in Nuevo Vallerta.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Friday, March 16 – crash day
A quiet night, thank goodness, we’re well-rested and enjoying a cool day. Expecting more noise as folks arrive and celebrate the weekend, so we’re taking it easy in advance. Tomorrow we move to the Mayan Palace, where we expect a very different experience than our little palace here on the hillside. We shall see what tomorrow brings!
Reading progress: a small book of vignettes from a member of Claudette’s family, looking back through the World Wars and the Communist era in the Jugoslavia region … an interesting collection of prose “snapshots” of “regular” life in unusual situations; The Washington Monthly – a fine recap of Obama’s accomplishments to date, among other good articles; Chicago which I haven’t read in a very long time. Needlepoint progress.
And then, new neighbors across the canyon … HUGE birthday bash complete with video projected onto a large white wall … folks on THAT side of things had fun right up to 5AM, by my count. On our side … well … you learn to sleep through it unless they call your name.
Reading progress: a small book of vignettes from a member of Claudette’s family, looking back through the World Wars and the Communist era in the Jugoslavia region … an interesting collection of prose “snapshots” of “regular” life in unusual situations; The Washington Monthly – a fine recap of Obama’s accomplishments to date, among other good articles; Chicago which I haven’t read in a very long time. Needlepoint progress.
And then, new neighbors across the canyon … HUGE birthday bash complete with video projected onto a large white wall … folks on THAT side of things had fun right up to 5AM, by my count. On our side … well … you learn to sleep through it unless they call your name.
Thursday, March 15 – Botanic Garden
We took a bus out to this venue, not as crowded as the Walmart/airport ride and through MUCH more scenic territory. The road, naturally, is nicked out of the steep hillside which falls straight down to the ocean. Many dwellings are attached to the cliffs somehow, some quite new and grand and others in disrepair or worse. Many speed-control humps throughout the journey, usually with a small tent city of vendors between sets of bumps. There’s another tent at the welcome to the Botanic Garden, where we pick up insect repellant, a map, and a laminated bird guide. We’ve arrived at the beginning of a big birding week, though this is far beyond any of our areas of expertise.
We arrive a bit before noon and the daily tour doesn’t start for an hour, so we peruse the map and set off on a fairly distinct trail through a heavy forest. Many vines, not much water; the trail goes up and down a LOT. From time to time there are informative placards and a number of plants have signs, so we’re better informed when we emerge (having clambered over a “swinging bridge: NO HORSEPLAY!”). We find our way to the visitor center, which has a lovely large lily pond … the obligatory gift shop … a small café upstairs … and a tour group of SERIOUS birders with very long lenses on cameras & binoculars.
Happily for us, the experts wander off to keep their own counsel … but now it’s a bit after one and we’re worried that we’ve missed the tour. Claudette makes inquiry and we’re assured that it will be just a few minutes. Retailers and HR folks that we are, we know right away that the designated guide is a no-show and they’re desperately trying to find & free up someone who can speak English well. Ay-YUP! But what a stroke of luck: we’re assigned to one of the scientists-in-residence, who looks pretty Rasta but speaks eloquently about the plants and the work the Garden has taken on. A mighty nice upgrade.
The place was established just a few years ago, originally focused on saving orchid species in danger of extinction. Someone donated a large tract of land, and the mission has broadened to saving a nice chunk of ecosystem (as well as the orchids!). We were introduced to modern and pre-historic plants, several birds (in flight), and lots of orchids. Then our guide had to go back to work (he was very appreciative of being drafted to LEAVE HIS COMPUTER and go outside on a beautiful day) and we went up to the café for our complimentary glass of hibiscus tea.
A strolling one-man-band-for-hire came by, playing a big guitar and a set of pan pipes in lieu of a harmonica. The music was soothing as he made his rounds. The iced tea (complete with small green orchid flower as garnish on the rim) was excellent. Refreshed, we greeted our guide who was hard at work on a laptop as we made our way through the gift shop (chocolate for dessert tonight!) and back to the entrance. We were just in time to get to the northbound bus stop; almost all the pairs of seats were filled with one sleeping person. We found seats toward the back of the bus and enjoyed the return ride; at one point a bevy of schoolgirls in uniform boarded, leaving several stops down the road. Gradually folks awakened and the bus filled in; we debarked in downtown Puerto Vallarta and had to rustle up a cab back up the hill to home. That was unusual, our normal experience has been needing to shoo them off like flies!
This driver seemed more familiar with our street, and took an earlier turn up the hillside. This did prove to us that the road “goes somewhere” beyond our little crest. While the physical road was much better than our end of things, it still went up some precipitous climbs that would put fear in the heart of any American transmission. We did arrive home safe and sound, and happy for the small education.
Dinner was the final chicken breast, a bunch of green beans simmered with plum tomatoes, onions & garlic, and a bit of pasta. All enlivened with a newer Spice House blend, “Bay View Tuscan Seasoning.” Well recommended!
We arrive a bit before noon and the daily tour doesn’t start for an hour, so we peruse the map and set off on a fairly distinct trail through a heavy forest. Many vines, not much water; the trail goes up and down a LOT. From time to time there are informative placards and a number of plants have signs, so we’re better informed when we emerge (having clambered over a “swinging bridge: NO HORSEPLAY!”). We find our way to the visitor center, which has a lovely large lily pond … the obligatory gift shop … a small café upstairs … and a tour group of SERIOUS birders with very long lenses on cameras & binoculars.
Happily for us, the experts wander off to keep their own counsel … but now it’s a bit after one and we’re worried that we’ve missed the tour. Claudette makes inquiry and we’re assured that it will be just a few minutes. Retailers and HR folks that we are, we know right away that the designated guide is a no-show and they’re desperately trying to find & free up someone who can speak English well. Ay-YUP! But what a stroke of luck: we’re assigned to one of the scientists-in-residence, who looks pretty Rasta but speaks eloquently about the plants and the work the Garden has taken on. A mighty nice upgrade.
The place was established just a few years ago, originally focused on saving orchid species in danger of extinction. Someone donated a large tract of land, and the mission has broadened to saving a nice chunk of ecosystem (as well as the orchids!). We were introduced to modern and pre-historic plants, several birds (in flight), and lots of orchids. Then our guide had to go back to work (he was very appreciative of being drafted to LEAVE HIS COMPUTER and go outside on a beautiful day) and we went up to the café for our complimentary glass of hibiscus tea.
A strolling one-man-band-for-hire came by, playing a big guitar and a set of pan pipes in lieu of a harmonica. The music was soothing as he made his rounds. The iced tea (complete with small green orchid flower as garnish on the rim) was excellent. Refreshed, we greeted our guide who was hard at work on a laptop as we made our way through the gift shop (chocolate for dessert tonight!) and back to the entrance. We were just in time to get to the northbound bus stop; almost all the pairs of seats were filled with one sleeping person. We found seats toward the back of the bus and enjoyed the return ride; at one point a bevy of schoolgirls in uniform boarded, leaving several stops down the road. Gradually folks awakened and the bus filled in; we debarked in downtown Puerto Vallarta and had to rustle up a cab back up the hill to home. That was unusual, our normal experience has been needing to shoo them off like flies!
This driver seemed more familiar with our street, and took an earlier turn up the hillside. This did prove to us that the road “goes somewhere” beyond our little crest. While the physical road was much better than our end of things, it still went up some precipitous climbs that would put fear in the heart of any American transmission. We did arrive home safe and sound, and happy for the small education.
Dinner was the final chicken breast, a bunch of green beans simmered with plum tomatoes, onions & garlic, and a bit of pasta. All enlivened with a newer Spice House blend, “Bay View Tuscan Seasoning.” Well recommended!
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Thursday, March 15 morning … background details
A bit of catch up to augment the prior posts … the unit, while definitely not “in town,” is heavily secured and obviously the fire code here is Very Different from that at home. To enter our pad, first there’s an iron gate with a keyed-on-both-sides lock and a stern sign reminding EVERYONE to ensure that the gate is closed again EVERY time someone goes through it. Then down a windy, short set of stairs to our entrance … another iron gate, extending across the front porch/supplies closet, and secured by a massive padlock (again, keyed). Enter the unit by keying in the doorknob lock. Mysteriously, there is a (keyed-on-both-sides) deadbolt as well, but none of the keys we were issued fits it. The window of the bathroom which is on the entrance-side wall is also fitted with bars … and the only other way out would be to jump off one of the balconies to the pool several stories below. NOT!! So we are careful to visualize everyone around us behaving with very high safety-first consciousness.
BTW, at the bottom of the 190 stairs (which we have negotiated every day), there’s another keyed-on-both-sides gate, augmented with concertina razor wire. I guess we feel secure, or at least protected! And speaking of the stairs, they are precipitous, uneven, some flights seem to be canted forward, and no railings to speak of … just thorny bushes. Needless to say, it’s a slow and careful descent.
So, what did I want to do on vacation? Read & needlework! Some progress on both fronts so far; completed the current Virginia Quarterly Review (a sobering collection of photo & prose essays from Afghanistan), the 40th anniversary(!) edition of Ms. Magazine (I remember the thrill of being an initial subscriber, though perhaps I should not confess this…), the current AARP, one Stephanie Plum novel, and a lovely romp entitled How Carrots Won the Trojan War. The current needlework project, which shall remain undescribed for security reasons (Santa is coming, after all!) is beginning to hit its stride as most of the fussy detail work is completed and I’m moving into parts that have larger areas of the same color, thus allowing faster progress.
We also are gradually accommodating to the housekeeping services here. We had agreed to follow Linda’s habit of putting dirty laundry in a plastic grocery bag hung on the bedroom doorknob, which (we felt) would allow us to see when we had a full load. WELL. No such intrusion on our relaxation can be allowed … every day, our loyal housekeeper confiscates our paltry offerings and returns them, clean and neatly folded, before we’re back in the unit. As Linda remarked, had we only known we’d have packed much less! On the other end of the spectrum, pillows which have been repurposed from bed décor to more useful pursuits (stacked as an ottoman, added to the chaise lounge) are respectfully left untouched … making for a much improved experience both during the day and at bedtime.
Then there was the mystery of the stove. We were gradually able to decode the controls for the stovetop (gas) which boasts four burners and a griddle-in-the-middle. The remaining knob presumably controlled the oven, but we saw no way to set an actual temperature, and when we turned the knob, it seemed that nothing happened. So I pantomimed my question to the housekeeper, to be instructed in the fine art … be patient and the oven will light, and counter-clockwise is “poquito.” Apparently there’s little need for temperature precision, but we’re thinking we will hope for better inter-species communication with the kitchen appliances in next week’s accommodations.
Finally for the morning, we have the clean-water situation. Though the water (and vegetables & fruits) seem to be reasonably clean, we are provided with the classic blue-plastic 10-gallon water jug in a pretty cute rotating wire cage. After a bit of practice (we do, after all, hail from moonshine-jug Virginia territory) we are able to decant JUST A GLASS and not splash all over the floor. There’s brown goop to dilute and soak your produce clean, and everyone’s stayed healthy so far.
We are about to be off to visit the Botanic Gardens up the road, where there’s rumored to be a guided tour in early afternoon and, currently, a focus on birding featuring raptors. More on that later!
BTW, at the bottom of the 190 stairs (which we have negotiated every day), there’s another keyed-on-both-sides gate, augmented with concertina razor wire. I guess we feel secure, or at least protected! And speaking of the stairs, they are precipitous, uneven, some flights seem to be canted forward, and no railings to speak of … just thorny bushes. Needless to say, it’s a slow and careful descent.
So, what did I want to do on vacation? Read & needlework! Some progress on both fronts so far; completed the current Virginia Quarterly Review (a sobering collection of photo & prose essays from Afghanistan), the 40th anniversary(!) edition of Ms. Magazine (I remember the thrill of being an initial subscriber, though perhaps I should not confess this…), the current AARP, one Stephanie Plum novel, and a lovely romp entitled How Carrots Won the Trojan War. The current needlework project, which shall remain undescribed for security reasons (Santa is coming, after all!) is beginning to hit its stride as most of the fussy detail work is completed and I’m moving into parts that have larger areas of the same color, thus allowing faster progress.
We also are gradually accommodating to the housekeeping services here. We had agreed to follow Linda’s habit of putting dirty laundry in a plastic grocery bag hung on the bedroom doorknob, which (we felt) would allow us to see when we had a full load. WELL. No such intrusion on our relaxation can be allowed … every day, our loyal housekeeper confiscates our paltry offerings and returns them, clean and neatly folded, before we’re back in the unit. As Linda remarked, had we only known we’d have packed much less! On the other end of the spectrum, pillows which have been repurposed from bed décor to more useful pursuits (stacked as an ottoman, added to the chaise lounge) are respectfully left untouched … making for a much improved experience both during the day and at bedtime.
Then there was the mystery of the stove. We were gradually able to decode the controls for the stovetop (gas) which boasts four burners and a griddle-in-the-middle. The remaining knob presumably controlled the oven, but we saw no way to set an actual temperature, and when we turned the knob, it seemed that nothing happened. So I pantomimed my question to the housekeeper, to be instructed in the fine art … be patient and the oven will light, and counter-clockwise is “poquito.” Apparently there’s little need for temperature precision, but we’re thinking we will hope for better inter-species communication with the kitchen appliances in next week’s accommodations.
Finally for the morning, we have the clean-water situation. Though the water (and vegetables & fruits) seem to be reasonably clean, we are provided with the classic blue-plastic 10-gallon water jug in a pretty cute rotating wire cage. After a bit of practice (we do, after all, hail from moonshine-jug Virginia territory) we are able to decant JUST A GLASS and not splash all over the floor. There’s brown goop to dilute and soak your produce clean, and everyone’s stayed healthy so far.
We are about to be off to visit the Botanic Gardens up the road, where there’s rumored to be a guided tour in early afternoon and, currently, a focus on birding featuring raptors. More on that later!
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Wednesday, March 14 El Arrayan, excellent dinner
We had assured Claudette that things were pretty tranquil … ERROR! The party-hearty crew across the canyon went well into the wee hours, then a car alarm or possibly emergency vehicle siren sounded for a good while. After that, the party crew was boisterous in a public (and wide-open) room from about 4-4AM. Just lovely. None of us bothered the others, and eventually each of us managed to get back to sleep for at least a while.
Given the rocky state of sleep, we abandoned our idea of finding the botanic gardens this morning and focused on getting dinner at a very fine restaurant downtown. It was also an art-gallery open-house evening, so after a fabulous meal of dazzlingly complex flavors, we ambled through several galleries and caught a cab home. Too dark to film, for sure, and we were happy to be within a few steps of bed.
Given the rocky state of sleep, we abandoned our idea of finding the botanic gardens this morning and focused on getting dinner at a very fine restaurant downtown. It was also an art-gallery open-house evening, so after a fabulous meal of dazzlingly complex flavors, we ambled through several galleries and caught a cab home. Too dark to film, for sure, and we were happy to be within a few steps of bed.
March 13, Tuesday Now We Are Three
We got a pleasantly slow start and ambled down the hill to catch a bus to Walmart, where we did some fill-in shopping (actually, in the end, a good DEAL of fill-in shopping). The bus was pretty empty when we got on downtown, but filled well enroute to the shopping area. After making our purchases, we went to catch the next bus out to the airport so we could meet our friend Claudette and the driver for our building.
First, of course, we find out that the bus we need stops at the waiting area half-a-block back down the road. We get there, find the bus, and can barely squeeze on (Linda gets a seat, I stand … no matter, I couldn’t fall – or even MOVE – if my life depended on it!). Enroute to the airport somehow another 4-6 people mash into the bus, making it just about impossible for us to LEAVE the bus … though there were yet more folks waiting to, somehow, board the thing. At several points we’re tooling down the road with the front doors open and people hanging on for dear life.
At the airport, we find that all four of us have arrived substantially at the same time. We pile into the company car and get home (Linda trying to video the experience with her camera, but we’ll have to try again another day). Claudette got oriented and organized, and we settled into a fun dinner of cauliflower “steaks” with a savory chopped garnish & tomato sauce, bolstered with some brown rice & chicken breast cutlets.
First, of course, we find out that the bus we need stops at the waiting area half-a-block back down the road. We get there, find the bus, and can barely squeeze on (Linda gets a seat, I stand … no matter, I couldn’t fall – or even MOVE – if my life depended on it!). Enroute to the airport somehow another 4-6 people mash into the bus, making it just about impossible for us to LEAVE the bus … though there were yet more folks waiting to, somehow, board the thing. At several points we’re tooling down the road with the front doors open and people hanging on for dear life.
At the airport, we find that all four of us have arrived substantially at the same time. We pile into the company car and get home (Linda trying to video the experience with her camera, but we’ll have to try again another day). Claudette got oriented and organized, and we settled into a fun dinner of cauliflower “steaks” with a savory chopped garnish & tomato sauce, bolstered with some brown rice & chicken breast cutlets.
March 12, Monday 10,000 Steps
Today we met our housekeeper, who was intent both upon making the place right by HER standards and not upsetting things that we had in place for a reason. For instance, we had piled up a bunch of decorative pillows from my bed near a chair where I was doing needlework, to serve as an ottoman of sorts. She immediately identified the pile as “significant” and though we didn’t share a language, we agreed rapidly that it should remain undisturbed.
Once she was well underway, and the “fix-it” man had arrived to educate us that the lack of hot water in Linda’s shower was that the controls were reversed from the ones in my shower (if you only turn on the cold water, you can’t expect hot) … and my sink cold water WOULD flow at a reasonable level if I only turned the control at least 12 rotations … we felt we should get out of the unit for a bit. We had a small shopping list which ensured we’d see to the need of our friend arriving tomorrow, as well as meals for three instead of two. We thought to patronize the recommended local market, but were challenged to find it (squinting carefully at the map, the road we thought to take was interrupted by … dots … which turned out to be yet another precipitous stairway … we turned back and took a longer route!)
We did find the place, which had prominent banners proclaiming that … CONTRARY TO RUMOR … they were NOT going out of business and thank you for your patronage. However, cruising the place, we were not motivated to buy there.
So we thought to head back to the market we’d patronized Saturday, and maybe hit the tourist-info office enroute. Little did we know the hike to which we had committed ourselves! We were navigating by the “gay map” for Puerto Vallerta … and it simply didn’t go anywhere near our target merchant. We DID ultimately find the tourist bureau and a better map, and finally DID hoof it to the market … just about nailing our 10,000 steps goal for a day. Happily the taxi stand was still right there, and though our new driver had to seek instruction from the fellow behind him, he got us home between what he’d been told and our own instructions. We had a nice (if very micro) instruction session in practical Spanish on the way.
Once she was well underway, and the “fix-it” man had arrived to educate us that the lack of hot water in Linda’s shower was that the controls were reversed from the ones in my shower (if you only turn on the cold water, you can’t expect hot) … and my sink cold water WOULD flow at a reasonable level if I only turned the control at least 12 rotations … we felt we should get out of the unit for a bit. We had a small shopping list which ensured we’d see to the need of our friend arriving tomorrow, as well as meals for three instead of two. We thought to patronize the recommended local market, but were challenged to find it (squinting carefully at the map, the road we thought to take was interrupted by … dots … which turned out to be yet another precipitous stairway … we turned back and took a longer route!)
We did find the place, which had prominent banners proclaiming that … CONTRARY TO RUMOR … they were NOT going out of business and thank you for your patronage. However, cruising the place, we were not motivated to buy there.
So we thought to head back to the market we’d patronized Saturday, and maybe hit the tourist-info office enroute. Little did we know the hike to which we had committed ourselves! We were navigating by the “gay map” for Puerto Vallerta … and it simply didn’t go anywhere near our target merchant. We DID ultimately find the tourist bureau and a better map, and finally DID hoof it to the market … just about nailing our 10,000 steps goal for a day. Happily the taxi stand was still right there, and though our new driver had to seek instruction from the fellow behind him, he got us home between what he’d been told and our own instructions. We had a nice (if very micro) instruction session in practical Spanish on the way.
March 11, Sunday
Truthfully, we could just have vegged in the unit today. However, there was the entire town to explore and the 190 steps down to experience. We eased our way down the stairs (only 60 to the level that holds a small, kidney-shaped pool!) and walked the rest of the way down to town. Enjoyed frozen yogurt (much tangier and less sweet than Stateside) on the beach. Laid in some wine and hailed a taxi back up the hill. Enjoyed a “don’t ask for the recipe” meal of mystery beef (marinated last night, very thinly sliced) with brown rice & mushrooms & avocado. Off to bed somewhat early, a bit interrupted by the spring-break-boys across the arroyo.
March 10, Saturday …. Take off!
Linda spent the night at my pad Friday to simplify getting out of town very early Saturday morning. Our driver arrived right on time and we sped out to O’Hare … only to find a gazillion people in line for international check-in. Things moved swiftly, though, and both our checked bags were marginally under-weight. Inching through security, we looked back to see an entire family dressed in fluorescent pink & yellow – no chance of losing THOSE children in the crowd! Off we went to the gate, to discover once Linda went to fill our empty water bottles, that boarding was well underway. Nonetheless, we got on in good season and there was enough room in the overhead bins for our second carry-ons.
We were aisle-to-aisle, so not too much chance to communicate enroute. I had a selection of Spanish cheese slices and some Triscuits to see us through lunchtime, and of course we had our water bottles for hydration. Once we landed in Puerto Vallerta (to Linda’s great relief, we actually had a jetway!!), we were faced with very extended lines for immigration control & customs … big Spring Break week here.
Ultimately we got through the administrative hurdles and found our driver (despite the blandishments of scores of independent drivers who used every ruse in the book to get us to sign up for one of them). We had a pleasant drive to our “condo” … until the very final approach. The building is set right into a steep hillside, and the approach is on an ancient-style cobblestone road. It’s about a lane-and-a-half wide, though it’s two-way … and it goes up and down at precipitous angles. The car strained to hold the road in sunny, dry weather … we would NOT want to try to negotiate it in rain!
The unit is spacious and lovely … two full bedroom/bath areas and a third semi-private (draw your curtains to seal off the living room) bedroom. Three balconies, and a lovely view overlooking the town and the large Banderas Bay.
After getting settled a bit, we called a cab to take us to the major grocery chain in town, which happily has a taxi stand right beside it. Our list was eclectic and we had some serious work to do to translate what was on the shelf. Among other delicacies, the store offers still-warm tortillas … Linda ordered up a KILO (about 2 inches of them!). Gradually crossing things off of our list, we stocked up, grabbed a cab back up the hillside, and settled into fajitas wrapped in the still-warm white-corn tortillas made minutes before. Just lovely!
We were aisle-to-aisle, so not too much chance to communicate enroute. I had a selection of Spanish cheese slices and some Triscuits to see us through lunchtime, and of course we had our water bottles for hydration. Once we landed in Puerto Vallerta (to Linda’s great relief, we actually had a jetway!!), we were faced with very extended lines for immigration control & customs … big Spring Break week here.
Ultimately we got through the administrative hurdles and found our driver (despite the blandishments of scores of independent drivers who used every ruse in the book to get us to sign up for one of them). We had a pleasant drive to our “condo” … until the very final approach. The building is set right into a steep hillside, and the approach is on an ancient-style cobblestone road. It’s about a lane-and-a-half wide, though it’s two-way … and it goes up and down at precipitous angles. The car strained to hold the road in sunny, dry weather … we would NOT want to try to negotiate it in rain!
The unit is spacious and lovely … two full bedroom/bath areas and a third semi-private (draw your curtains to seal off the living room) bedroom. Three balconies, and a lovely view overlooking the town and the large Banderas Bay.
After getting settled a bit, we called a cab to take us to the major grocery chain in town, which happily has a taxi stand right beside it. Our list was eclectic and we had some serious work to do to translate what was on the shelf. Among other delicacies, the store offers still-warm tortillas … Linda ordered up a KILO (about 2 inches of them!). Gradually crossing things off of our list, we stocked up, grabbed a cab back up the hillside, and settled into fajitas wrapped in the still-warm white-corn tortillas made minutes before. Just lovely!
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