se asia

Homecoming

When we left La Paz 2 weeks ago, we decided to split the 300-mile trip back to Posada into two days.

The first day we went only as far as Ciudad Constitution, an inland agricultural town. We ate fish tacos at Karen's taco stand, which I was introduced to a few years ago by our Posada friend Diane DeMichelle. We watched as the cook grilled peppers and tomatoes and piled them in a bowl for making salsa later. After eating, we walked around downtown a bit more than we have before, stopping to chat briefly with the denture-maker who had a stand on a busy street.

We stayed at a small RV park on the north side of town that had a lovely pool, and we lounged about reading books on our Kindles.

Day 2 we stopped for lunch at our fave taco place in Loreto, El Rey del Taco ("The Taco King"). This may be the busiest taco place in town, which makes sense because they make a giant, tasty fish taco. We never go to Loreto, the site of the closest airport to Posada, without eating there.

From Loreto it's 75 miles north to Posada, our little community of about 60 homes on Bahia Concepcion (Bay of Conception). The drive is through the desert, with high, jaggedy mountains to the west, then it flattens out, then suddenly you come up over a rise and you see the southern end of the bay. What a gorgeous sight! Almost home! From there the road goes mostly along the bay, and the view is of mountains sloping down to the saguaro-cactus-studded desert and to the bay, with blue skies above. It's a stunning combination.

We refer to our Posada house as our main residence, and the feeling of coming home that we get when we pull into the park confirms that. Our housesitter, Susan Nelson, took impeccable care of our house, its contents, our car, and our dog, Buddy. Susan was responsible for Buddy's gentle ending, and we're forever grateful to her. 

What can you say about the first night back in your own bed after 3 months away? I slept 11 hours and could've logged more. The first day after the first night we did a lot of reconnecting with friends, and it didn't take long before we needed a calendar to keep track of dinner invitations, tennis matches, and poker games. It even felt good to go into little Mulege, our fair pueblito (little town), for groceries.

Soon after our return, we were visited by some new friends whom we had first met on the ferry back from Mazatlan to La Paz: the Quebec family Nathalie and Rejean and their girls, Charlotte, 10, and Eve, soon to be 7, and the intrepid photographer from Columbia, Lucana.

The Quebecois have been on the road since last June, coming from their home in Trois Rivieres, on the St. Lawrence River, down through the U.S. and into the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico. Then west and south through Mexico into Guatemala and Costa Rica, then back north into Mexico. Trilingual (French, Spanish, English) parents and bilingual (French and Spanish) children! The girls did not know a word of Spanish when they left Canada, and they speak like natives now. Ah, to have the spongelike language-learning capability of a youngster!

Lucana is traveling in her 1961 Mercedes Benz, which she's owned for 23 years and works on herself. She has every technology on board -- iPhone, super-wifi laptop, GPS, etc. -- to keep her connected. Her destination is the farthest point in Alaska that she could reach, and she has some places in the western U.S. -- Las Vegas, Salt Lake City, and Death Valley, among others -- that comprise her itinerary. You can see Lucana's work at lucanaart.com.

Our guests stayed for 3 days of fun -- some kayaking, lots of drawing, a craft class, some hiking, lots of eating. Charlotte was the star jefa (boss) in the kitchen -- a natural chef, she knew exactly how much of any ingredient she wanted in the bowl or the pan. I predict a restaurant in Charlotte's future! Or maybe a job as a food critic in Italy, the next country she wants to visit. We also played Junior Monopoly, where Eve proved to be a savvy real-estate mogul, but a lenient landlord -- she and Charlotte both charged me only half the rent due on their many properties when I went bankrupt :-)... Rejean said that Posada was the best part of their Baja time so far.

 As we unpack and sort things from the RV, we're already making some new piles, since one month from now we'll be headed north back to the U.S. We plan to take a ferry from Santa Rosalia across the Sea of Cortez over to the mainland once again to Guaymas, where we'll pick up the toll road straight to Nogales. Only 5 hours to the border, then maybe another 2 to Tucson, to see friends Pat and Neil in their new downtown condo.

Normally we'd stay at Posada until the end of May, but this year I must sell my houseboat, and boating season in Sandpoint starts in May. Gary has a house to sell and business matters to attend to, also, and so we'll enjoy 4 more weeks here of boating, swimming, fishing, tennis, and hanging out with friends. There's no shortage of socializing opportunities at Posada even when people start heading back to their homes in the U.S. and Canada.

We're calling this our last Mexploration blog entry. But we will pick up the thread again next winter on our next great adventure, wherever that may be.

Una mezcla

In Spanish, "mezcla" means "mixture," and this blog entry is a mixture of things, a digest of small bits that we feel deserve a mention because although they may not be central to our travels, they're fun or interesting or sweet. There are no photos on this posting due to technical difficulties, so we may make another posting soon of una mezcla of only photos...

***

We haven't seen many RVs on the highways during these three months of traveling on various Mexican highways and back roads --- in fact, we've gone whole days without seeing another motorhome. We have met more people who drive their RVs -- small, medium, or large -- from Canada or the U.S. to Mexico and stay for a month or two or three at one RV park in a location they like. We've met only a handful of nomads who cruise around as we do, spending one or two nights in any given place before moving down the road.

This winter we've met two young families -- one of whom we'll talk more about in our next post -- who are what Gary calls "long-line travelers" who are spending a whole year on the road. In both cases, the parents are in their late 30s or early 40s: The Swiss family has 2 lovely sons and the Quebec family has 2 lovely daughters. The parents are home-schooling the kids in an international setting, and the kids are learning Spanish organically. Beautiful parents, beautiful kids.

***

During the last week, after beach camping at La Saladita (see previous post), we continued up the Pacific Coast of Mexico, spending a blissful two days on Tenacatita Bay. My Seattle friend Lisa was not in residence at her lovely home in La Manzanilla, so we lunched in that sweet town and camped just north of there at Boca de Iguanas, one of the most beautiful beaches we've seen. Most of the Canadian and U.S. RVers who camp here for the winter season have already headed back north, many intending to spend April in the Southwest U.S. on their way. So it's quiet at many of these RV campgrounds. Nice.

Following that, we drove north through Puerto Vallarta, making a Costco stop to buy thick-sliced bacon, pomegranate juice and jars of their famous mixed nuts, among other things. How this shot of familiar U.S. products delighted us! Cheap thrills ... :-)

We stopped for the night at another beach town we hadn't visited before, Lo de Marcos. Sometimes the hype of a guidebook can set you up, and Lo de Marcos was a disappointing experience: a smallish, slanted beach, not easily walkable nor safely swimable. We stayed only one night. On north through the jungly, beautiful coast of Nayarit state to the town of San Blas, where we late-lunched on smoked marlin cooked on a wood-fired grill at a restaurant we remembered from last year.

We drove ahead on coastal back roads, choosing a beach destination on a remote peninsula. We cruised past tobacco fields and pepper farms, where huge piles of red chiles dried on tarps in the sun. Maps can't tell you everything, and when we arrived just before sunset at the beach, we realized we were in a marshy area of mangroves -- potentially buggy -- but it was too late to go anywhere else.

If this passage sounds ominous, it's because I'm recalling a nightmare: That night, hundreds of tiny insects came through the screens of our RV and ate me alive. Gary and I sleep without pajamas, and on warm nights like that one, without covers. I did pull the sheet over my head to avoid what I thought was a tenacious mosquito or two, but I had no idea that multitudes of no-see-ums were inside with us,  even under that sheet, feasting on my blood ...

By morning, I had -- by Gary's count -- about 200 bites. Little red bumps from head to toe, back and front, even on my scalp. It looked like a mad case of full-body mini-measles.

Gary had, by his count, about 20 bites that barely registered with him.

There's more that I could say about this experience, but the bottom line is that a medicated talcum powder called Mexana was my best friend and constant companion for the next four days.

***

Spring has come to western coastal Mexico. One type of tree we've not yet identified is abloom with pink blossoms; from far away they look like a cherry tree on steroids, and they stand out incredibly on a jungly green hillside. In some higher-elevation places like San Miguel de Allende (see previous postings), the jacaranda trees are exploding with purple blooms, and we regret we can't see spring erupt in multiple places.

***

Any of you who read our blog last year may remember that we mentioned developing a big pollo asado (grilled chicken) habit. We've maintained that habit this winter with, we estimate, two pollo asado meals a week, maybe more. If you're just a little late having lunch, and you're driving down the road, and you come upon a little town, and a woman is out there at her grill, and you see and smell the roasted chickens resting on that grill, you just gotta stop.

She expertly cleaves the chicken into pieces and puts the pieces on a styrofoam tray along with tortillas and a little bag of salsa and sometimes a bag of Spanish rice. You give her 60 or 70 pesos (about US$5). You get back in the RV and eat the chicken with your hands, saying between bites, "Ohmigod, this is so good..." Afterwards you wash your hands and face, put the tortillas and salsa and rice in the frig, and you head on down the road, satisfied. Healthy fast food.

***

We're fond of the naming conventions for businesses in Mexico. Usually the name consists of two or three words -- the first refers to the type of business, and the second, who it belongs to or where it's located. For example, you might have "Estetica Catalina," which in English would be "Kathy's Beauty Shop"; or "Ferreteria Jaime," which would be "Jim's Hardware"; or "Abarrotes Juana," which is "Jeanne's Corner Grocery Store." "Farmacia El Centro" would translate as "Downtown Pharmacy," and "Gasolina La Curva"  would be "Gas Station Where the Highway Curves." We don't understand the system well enough to understand why someone would name a business like one we saw the other day: "Materiales El Pollo" ("The Chicken's Building Supplies").

On the subject of naming: All the puentes (bridges) in Mexico -- from large ones that span wide arroyos to small ones that carry your car over a little creek -- have names that are displayed on small signs at either end of the bridge. Some are obviously named for the town they're near to. It appears to us that others, though, carry names for a feature of the nearby landscape -- for example, Puente Las Higueras (fig trees) or Puente La Cuevita (little cave) -- or what we imagine is a beloved relative of the foreman of the bridge-building crew, such as Puente Tia Lola (Aunt Lola). Some, however, carry names that we can't compute but we love, such as Puente La Hormiga (the ant) or Puente El Tigre (the tiger).

***

We took the large ferry from Mazatlan back to La Paz, the capital of Baja California Sur, on Monday -- a smooth overnight crossing -- and spent a few days in La Paz. It's the one-year anniversary of Gary's diagnosis of stomach cancer and his gastrectomy, and his oncological surgeon wanted to run a few tests to see how his health is. As we expected, everything looks good. Que bueno!

Next: Going home....

On the road again

In the last five days, we've driven about 300 miles along the Pacific Coast through the states of Guerrero, Michoacan, Colima, and Jalisco. In some parts, namely Michoacan, the coastline is so winding and hilly and you average about 20mph. But the name of the game isn't covering ground, it's keeping your jaw shut as you look at the incredible shoreline of virtually empty beaches -- some white sand, some rocky with crashing surf, mostly with coco palms, and always beautiful.

The first night out of Zihuatanejo we camped outside of La Saladita, a town so small it's not even in Guia Roji, our very detailed map book of Mexican roads. We had gone to Troncones, a beach about 40 miles north of Zihua, where we'd beach-camped previously, and there we met a couple raved about a place just north of there called La Saladita. So we pressed on in that direction, following their instructions for what turn to take off coastal Highway 200, anticipating another nice beach-camping night.

We turned too soon, however, and found ourselves on a dirt road that got narrower and narrower until brush was scraping the sides and top of the RV. Terri wanted to go back to the highway, Gary wanted to press on.

We kept going, through a little ... could you call it a village? A few shacks, pigs in the road, three men drinking beer on their stoop in the hot afternoon sun. Soon the road dead-ended. We turned around, came back to the guys on the stoop, and asked them the way to La Saladita. They pointed to another little spur road, and we headed down that. We came upon a wide creek, almost a foot deep, and Gary drove the rig across it. More winding around on a narrow dirt track until we rounded a corner and saw .... the highway! Just a few yards down the highway, and there was the actual turnoff to La Saladita.

Just before the town, we turned onto another dirt road toward a restaurant the Troncones couple had mentioned called El Mirador (The Viewpoint). It's all by itself on the beach, and the owner said we could camp there if we had dinner at the restaurant. We walked a long way in both directions on the beach to stretch out after the driving escapade, and that night we feasted on lobster and the best huachinango (red snapper) ever while watching the sun sink into the sea. The next morning we were treated to a gorgeous sunrise as well and had more fish for breakfast.

Some people ask why we're so fond of Mexico, and one of the many answers has to be: the fruit. At times we almost live on it, so it's worth a few words here.

In particular, we are mango nuts. The ones we prefer are the smaller, thinner, yellow ones that I've seen labeled in the store as Ataulfos but the fruit vendors call them "manilas." They're sweeter than the reddish ones we see in U.S. grocery stores, and in southwestern coastal Mexico, you see miles and miles of mango orchards producing this type of mango. The other type grows here too -- along one beach access road, Gary climbed atop the RV to pick a few low-hanging red ones from a tree, and we're waiting for those to ripen up.

We also love bananas, and along with the familiar kind, we've sampled some shorter, fat ones whose flesh is very creamy and what we call "finger bananas" because they're about that big and super-sweet.

Inland there are places where the cash crop is berries -- the city of Zamora is a hub for producing blackberries (in Spanish, blackberry is "zarzamora") -- and those are brought out to the coast for sale, just as mangos and bananas are sent inland.

All along the highway are stands where people have giant piles of coconuts, and for 8 pesos (about 70 cents), they'll whack the top off it with a machete and put a straw in it so you can drink the coco milk. This must be an acquired taste, however, because it doesn't taste like coconut as we think of it; it's watery and without much flavor. (Gary thinks it needed rum.)

As you motor down the highway, the landscape gives way from one fruit crop to another, it seems -- the coco palm plantations, the banana palms, the papayas, the mangos, the limes (the city of Tecoman, north of Manzanillo, calls itself El Capital Mundial de Limones -- The Lime Capital of The World). An aside: It takes 4 small limes to yield enough juice for one margarita, which has become our drink of choice on this trip, so as a result we are huge lime consumers. We buy them by the kilo! They are the little limes, the size of key limes, although the juice tastes like that of the bigger limes you buy in U.S. grocery stores.

We stopped yesterday at a wonderful fruit stand on the highway and, along with our usual favorite fruits, bought some citrusy starfruit and a mamey. Mamey is the size and color of a Russet potato, but the skin's texture is more like an avocado, only harder. The fruit stand owner told us to wait a few days for it to be "listo" (ready), then to cut it in half and spoon out the custardy flesh. Stay tuned for a full report :-)...

Zihua daze

(Note: This post was written on our last evening in Zihuatanejo. We didn't finish writing it that night, however, and we've been beach camping without wifi access since then. So we're posting it today, a few days after the fact. We'll soon post our next report on what's been happening since we hit the road again.)
________________

Our two weeks in Zihua has flown, as it does when you're relaxing in a beautiful place and meeting friendly, interesting people -- namely, our neighbors at La Ceiba Residencial, our 24-unit condo complex just off La Ropa Beach.

We've entertained and been entertained by several people here: Marsha, a new friend who also manages the rental of our condo; Anne and Ann, from whom we bought our unit; and Veronica and Israel and 4-year-old Amaya, native Mexicans who own the unit next to us and speak English. (Veronica, who got her MBA in the U.S., is from an old Zihua family that owns property and hotels, one of which she manages.) Anne organized a group lunch for 22 owners from La Ceiba at Casa Vieja restaurant. We went there for pozole, which is basically chicken soup with bits of hominy (like miniature corn dumplings) in it.

Thursday is Pozole Day in Zihua  -- some small restaurants open only on Thursdays, and serve only pozole -- and people who live here all seem to have their fave pozole restaurant. At Casa Vieja ("Old House," which is what the building used to be), you can order chicken or pork or both in your pozole, and you can have it white (mild), green (medium), or red (burn your lips). The waiter brings trays of botanas (appetizers) beforehand -- jalapeno poppers (jalapenos stuffed with cream cheese, lightly breaded, then deep-fried); taquitos (tortillas with a little cheese rolled up and deep-fried); and some deep-fried tortillas with a spicy chicken mixture on them. (Yes, lots of deep frying in some parts of Mexican cuisine.) The pozole is served with another tray of goodies and condiments to put in it: minced onions and radishes and serrano chiles, oregano and red chile powder, and deep-fried avocado (just kidding about the "deep-fried" there).

At Casa Vieja I also had my first Michelada. On our drives through the countryside I'd seen handwritten signs at roadside cafes (that's a plastic table and chairs under a blue tarp) offering Micheladas, but I hadn't yet investigated what they were. Then Marsha ordered one: A Michelada is a beer poured over about an inch of lime juice and ice in a tall glass whose rim is salted. I ordered one made with Victoria brand beer, something between a lager and an amber. It was the most refreshing thing you can imagine drinking on a hot day!

In and around our  socializing, we've explored several areas around Zihua. We drove to Ixtapa,  the government-developed, high-rise hotel area (a la Cancun or Cabo San Lucas) that is just north or Zihua and shares an airport with it. We spent a day at Barra de Potosi, a gorgeous beach south of town. We rented an hour on a tennis court at golf course in Ixtapa and happily batted the ball around. We walked the rocky milelong path from La Ropa to Las Gatas Beach, where we'd snorkeled in January, and this time we walked further out on the shore and saw sea urchins and tide pool life.

We went downtown several times and shopped in the wonderful and expansive mercado. This is a building with rows and rows of stalls where vendors sell fresh food -- fish, meat, poultry, fruits, veggies -- as well as household goods, DVDs, clothing and more. Surrounding the mercado is a commercial district with banks and restaurants and stores that sell lots of beach stuff and souvenirs for tourists. (We notice there are a zillion shoe stores in downtown Zihua, and they all seem to sell the same styles -- ??)

At the puestos (food stalls) inside the mercado, we've been served some wonderful and some awful tacos. We find that "wonderful" or "awful" can depend on the quality of the tortilla, most of which are handmade right in front of you and which consist of only a very few ingredients: masa (ground corn), water, and salt. (In Baja, most of the tortillas are made with harina, or white flour.) Thickness is a key variable, and we find that, usually, we prefer a thin tortilla to a thick one. But a tortilla has to hold whatever is put inside of it (beans, meat, chicken, fish, cheese) without falling apart, so it's tricky. To us there's nothing like a beautiful handmade tortilla hot off the grill and filled with yummy pollo picante (spicy chicken) ... yum!

Our 12 days in Zihua have been half purposeful and half lazy.

Gary bought two more pair of glasses here, wanting to take advantage of the affordable prices. We conducted a lengthy search for an outdoor BBQ and settled on a small, barrel-shaped, hand-welded unit that is sturdy and the perfect size for our condo patio. (We had borrowed a Weber-style grill from neighbors who'd owned it only two years, and the sea air had rusted through it in several places.) Neighbor Israel, who sells quality silver jewelry on the beach, is in chef school here, and he showed us two ways to do an amazing whole huachinango (red snapper ) on the new grill. Que rico!!! (Delicious!)

On several days, we took beach chairs, umbrella, cooler and books the half-block to the ocean and parked it there for the day. (The water in Zihua Bay is 83 degrees at the moment.) On a few others we hung out reading by the condo pool. It was sunny and hot nearly every day.We both can take way too much sun for our own good.

On our final day in town, Gary persuaded me to go up in a parasail that some guys operate on the beach. He negotiated a good price for us to be harnessed together and lifted high, high, high above the bay. The boat we were attached to made a loop towards town and back to our beach, and the ride lasted about 15 minutes. It was a rather busy day in the bay, however, and I was a little preoccupied as I watched our boat driver avoid colliding with a kayaker, another parasail boat, a yacht moored off the beach, and several fishing boats. The liftoff and landing were both smooth and flawless, and Gary managed to snap photos while in the air, some of which you see here.


Not sure when we will return to Zihuatanejo, only that it won't be too long...

From the highlands to the sea...

The weather for our last week in San Miguel de Allende continued to be cloudy and cool. Terri finished up 2 weeks of individual intensive Spanish instruction with her tutor, Alicia Chavez (see photo). We each took a tennis lesson from Walter, one of the brothers who owns the RV park there; we explored more neighborhoods on foot and even went to a few yard sales; we found an Italian restaurant whose native Italian owner made some of the best pizza we’ve ever eaten; and Terri bought some San Miguel Shoes – stylish, comfy, and designed and made right in SMA.

Typically, we’re not “tour people,” but on the enthusiastic recommendation of a couple in the trailer park, we signed up for a tour to a Monarch butterfly sanctuary, where millions of the large orange-and-black butterflies migrate from North America each winter. Had we researched the distance involved, we’d never have taken this tour: For a nearly 10-hour, butt-numbing round-trip drive in a Ford Expedition with 2 couples from Toronto, we got about 2 hours at the sanctuary. One hour of that was a horseback ride from the parking lot into the woods and a hike back out. We were surprised at how few people were at the sanctuary, usually a magnet for visitors – more proof that tourism in many parts of Mexico is way down...

At the sanctuary, the trail ended short of the area where the butterflies are most concentrated – the boughs of some trees are covered with them -- but many were flying around on the trail, and some even landed on us. Another note about weather: Anguangueo, the town that’s the usual gateway to El Rosario, the main sanctuary, was wiped out in a rain-induced landslide that killed 18 people; the tours are now going around the other side of the mountain and into a smaller sanctuary while crews slowly dig Anguangueo out.

The day we left SMA, we headed for La Gruta, one of several hot springs just north of town. The pools are filled in the morning and again in the afternoon, and because it took a little doing to pack up the motorhome, we didn't arrive until 10:30, and the water had cooled off considerably. So with the less-than-hot water and the still-chilly air, we weren’t entirely comfortable either in or out of the pools. We decided to put La Gruta on our “Try it again next time” list for SMA and move on.

We headed north to Dolores Hidalgo, a town that’s known as a ceramic center in this area. We stopped at a factory on the outskirts of town and went in. There we saw the kiln room and a warehouse with a long line of women hand-painting individual pieces and young men packing the dried pieces in newspaper for shipping to all parts of Mexico. And of course everything from plates and bowls to planters and wall art and sinks was for sale on rows of shelves and tables that seemed to go on forever. Yes, we bought a few things...

From Dolores we drove toward Guanajuato, a university town of about 50K people that was once a mining center and is now the capital of the state of Guanajuato. Like SMA, Guanajuato is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, but unlike SMA, its growth has been constrained by its physical location in a long ravine. Crayola-colorful buildings – commercial businesses, the university, homes and apartments -- are crammed at the bottom of the ravine and up its steep sides. Many areas of these steep inclines are accessible only by foot via pedestrian alleys or  sets of stairs. But amazingly, car and bus traffic also flows through this town -- on narrow, switchback streets and through both above-ground and subterranean tunnels.

We have a guidebook on touring Mexico in a motorhome, and we rely on it to know if there are camping areas in places we’d like to visit. If there aren’t, Gary is great at finding spots we can park for the night, such as the entrance road to a little rancho off in the distance or next to a small palapa restaurant on an uncrowded beach. In the case of Guanajuato, we’d been encouraged by two neighbors at the SMA trailer park to check out a small campground – only 4 spaces – that is indeed listed in this guidebook. It’s located near the top of the ravine at the far end of town and is accessed through a labyrinth of skinny one-way streets. (The photos here are shot across the ravine to the other slope.)

Terri tried to talk Gary out of this but he really wanted to experience that campground, and he wisely proposed hiring a taxi to guide us to it. $5 well spent! Terri held her breath the whole way, and Gary expertly drove our 19-foot rig behind the taxi up, up, up, around, around, around. The so-called RV park turned out to be someone’s wide driveway, situated in a neighborhood where music blared and dogs barked until 3 a.m. ... Earplugs couldn't touch this noise. ... Early the next morning, before too much traffic was about, we picked our way in low gear back down toward the center of town, hoping to find a place to park so that we could walk around and see something of Guanajuato, maybe find some breakfast. We found not one spot to stop, let alone park, and had to just continue to drive out of town. (We learned later that there are parking lots underground that are accessed via the tunnels.) So, sadly, Guanajuato also goes on our “Try this again next time” list -- and you can bet we’ll take a bus or hire a driver and leave the motorhome behind.

From Guanajuato we headed south through Cuitzeo, one of Mexico's "Pueblos Magicos," (Magic Towns), which we now call the White Town. All the buildings are painted white with a rust-colored bottom strip, and every store or office has its name formally lettered over the door in the same black font. We had some nice tacos on the plaza then headed out to Patzcuaro, another Pueblo Magico which we visited for the first time last winter. 

In Patzcuaro, the beautiful and historic central plaza is under reconstruction, and something about the energy of the town felt different to us. What was it? We strolled through the Mercado and ate some more tacos. We spent the night at a nice trailer park there, and  when we awoke to frost on the ground the next morning, we said, What are we doing? Let's get to the beach! And off we drove, dropping in less than 4 hours from nearly 8,000 feet elevation to sea level. The final bit of that drive goes up and over the Sierra Madre del Sur mountain range, which reminds us of Shangi-La: tall mountains with rounded tops and some craggy outcroppings, green and lush. They give way to the coco palms and beaches of Guerrero state. 

We stayed on the beach next to a little town called Majahua, and both of us just sighed at the feel of the warm breeze on our skin and the sound of the surf. The sunset was lovely. We slept like babies. We had one more day before our Zihuatanejo condo was available for us to occupy, so we drove 20 miles or so south of Zihua to Barra de Potosi, where we again found a sweet access road to the beach to park on. That night, the last night of February, the full moon rose as the sun set, and the following morning the moon set into the ocean as the sun rose in the east. Perfect.

So now we are settled in the condo, enjoying the pool, the king-sized bed (yeah!), the tiled shower (yeah!), and all the other comforts of home. For some photos of our condo, visit http://www.vrbo.com/239697. (For those to whom we haven't mentioned it, we have a "Family and Friends" rate of $50/night, which helps us cover expenses.)

We went downtown to the Mercado today and stocked up on fresh veggies and fruit. We may have a shrimp cocktail at Paty's Restaurant on the beach to watch the sunset. 

All is well in our world :-).....

San Miguel de Allende (continued)

It's been two weeks since we arrived in San Miguel de Allende (SMA), and four days since we began our stay at Heather Hanley's marvelous condo in the heart of downtown, El Centro. In no time we developed the habit of retreating to the third-floor rooftop in the late afternoon to watch the waning daylight with a 360-degree view of the city. Here we are on the rooftop terrace, and below that is a shot of the courtyard of Heather's building.

Where to start in describing San Miguel? There are many websites that detail the town's central role in the Mexican revolution and talk about the various cultural influences here. Here, a summary from www.sanmiguelguide.com:

"San Miguel de Allende, is located in the mountainous central region of Mexico, part of what is referred to as the "Bajio" of the state of Guanajuato. This "low" region in reality averages about 7000 feet, but is so called for being a relatively flat area ringed by mountains.

"Originally known as San Miguel El Grande was founded by a Franciscan monk named Juan de San Miguel in 1542. It was an important stop over on the Antigua Camino Real, part of the silver route from Zacatecas.
When the Mexican War of Independence began in the nearby town of Dolores (now known as Dolores Hidalgo) on September 16th, 1810 ... the rapidly growing revolutionary army came to San Miguel El Grande. ... It was in San Miguel that General Ignacio Allende joined the army as Padre Miguel Hidalgo's chief lieutenant and led the army to several victories. Allende was not able to enjoy an independent Mexico, free from Spanish colonial oppression, as he was captured during a battle and beheaded. General Ignacio Allende is now a national hero, and San Miguel el Grande renamed itself "San Miguel de Allende" in 1826 in honor of his actions.

"As the mineral wealth waned, the many caravans ceased, and by 1900 San Miguel de Allende was in danger of dying out. Having been declared a national monument in 1926 (no neon signs, no new style buildings), the old Centro district still has the colonial style elegance of its wealthy past. In the 50's San Miguel became a destination known for both its beauty and for its natural hot springs. ... It was after World War II that San Miguel began to revive as a tourist attraction, as many GI's discovered that their education grants stretched further in Mexico at the US accredited art school, the Instituto Allende, founded in 1950.

"San Miguel de Allende is world famous for its mild climate, colonial architecture, and large expatriate population, which estimates number from 8,500 - 10,000. The majority are Americans, with a healthy percentage of Canadians, and smattering of Europeans and other nationalities. Many people have elected to retire here, as the large community of foreigners has brought about a number of conveniences that would normally not be available in a town of this size."

Indeed, our felt experience of SMA so far has mostly to do with how this place, population about 62K, contrasts with the Mexican towns we know or are getting to know: tiny Mulege (population 3K) and Santa Rosalia (about 20K) and La Paz (about 500K), all in Baja California, and Zihuatanejo (about 60K), in Guerrero state.

In SMA are many things that we've never seen in other Mexican towns of this size or greater: a thriving tennis community and many courts; organic grocery stores and restaurants; classes in every possible art and craft, in language, in yoga, and more; art galleries and restaurants galore; concerts galore; a library with the largest collection of English-language titles in Mexico; great local transportation (you can easily live here without a car); and volunteer organizations (education, health, social services, etc.) that serve the natives of SMA and the area surrounding it.

SMA is not everybody's cup of tea -- too gringo for many, too European-looking for others. But we find ourselves appreciating the Mexican cultural elements -- the incredible colonial architecture and food and music and art -- that are refined and revered and preserved here more than in other areas where we've spent time. That said, the "regular, everyday Mexico" that we love is also here -- for example, Gary has found several puestos (food stands on the sidewalks or in the mercado) for terrific tacos and for carnitas (roasted pork). He wants you to know the tacos cost about 60 cents each :-)...

Terri finished her first week of Spanish class -- 3 hours a day with private instructor Alicia -- and tomorrow begins her second week. She's getting into new territory, and it's harder but important to carry on. ... Gary met famed local photographer and author Robert de Gast and spent 2 hours of private photography tutoring with him. It's challenging to choose which photos to take and share here, because everywhere you look is a gorgeous building, gorgeous landscapes, interesting people doing interesting things. You'll continue to see more of Gary's photos on these blog pages.

The list of things we wish to do here hasn't gotten any shorter -- in fact, it continues to lengthen as we learn about more places to see and things to do. We're meeting fascinating people, and everyone has a story to tell about how they came to live here. A lot of those stories involve folks just falling in love with the look and feel of SMA.

Yesterday we rented an ATV, which is a common mode of transport on the narrow cobblestone streets here that are full of topes (speedbumps). For 6 hours we explored little callejones (narrow alleyways) in various colonias (neighborhoods) that we'd unlikely have had time to find on foot. Some curve steeply from El Centro up into the hills, and while we were up there, we went to the El Charro de Ingenio, the botanical gardens that feature a zillion types of cactus and yucca and other arid-landscape plants. Afterwards, we returned down to town and checked out the Fabrica de Aurora, a former cotton mill that's been transformed into a space full of art galleries, furniture stores, cafes, and gardens.

After turning in the ATV, we strolled through the Jardin, the park in front of the beautiful Parroquia catedral. The Jardin is always full of Mexicans and gringos relaxing and visiting, and yesterday there were mariachis playing and lots of vendors selling flowers for Valentine's Day.

Today, we are headed to Parque Benito Juarez, the largest green space in SMA, where there is a plant sale (species from all over Mexico have been brought in this week) and an art exhibit. From there, we'll go over to the trailer park where we lived at the start of our visit here and where our rig is currently stored. We've been invited to a potluck where the matriarch of the Mexican family who owns the park is going to teach us how to make tamales, and one of the park residents is going to show how to make chiles rellenos (mild poblano chiles stuffed with cheese). Yum!

Soon, more from San Miguel.