Memories of Mexico on the First Day of Winter
It’s the first day of winter, and even if the weather here isn’t frosty (it got up to a sunny 16C (64F), I’d like to reminisce some more about our trip:
When we got back Wednesday morning, the lock on our front door was balky. Not big on patience at that hour, Ali promptly broke not just his key, but mine, too. Fortunately, before we started breaking glass to get in we found the skylight over the back door had been left ajar. Ali lifted me on his shoulders and I was able to push my hand through and reach the lock. I was appalled at how easy it was to break in, but grateful we were the first ones to realize it.
After 2-1/2 days at sea, our first shore excursion was Puerto Vallarta. It was incredibly hot and humid, so we ditched our initial plan to walk into town and took a taxi. The driver was a friendly older man, who was puzzled when he heard we were from New Zealand. It’s near Australia, Ali said. A thoughtful moment. You mean Nuevo Zealandia? You’re from there? A long way from home, amigos!
The old town by the shore was sort of a grubby hodge podge of tourist traps and expensive homes well-hidden by their dilapidated fronts. The main street felt more alive and interesting, with mouth-watering displays of fresh tropical fruits, and numerous pharmacies advertising all your favorite drugs, from Atorvastatin (Lipitor) to Zoloft, from Cialis to Viagra, no prescription required.
The next morning we docked at Mazatlan, where Bob had arranged a surfing lesson. But first we had to run an unpleasant gauntlet: the "approved" drivers waiting outside the terminal, who didn’t want to let us out without an escort. No matter, we made it eventually and, after a long ride to the other side of the city, Julie, Bob, the twins, Julie’s niece and nephew, Ali and I arrived at a nice secluded beach where the waves didn’t look too terrifying.
Allen, our ex-pat American surfer dude/instructor swore there were no jellyfish the day before, and assured us that with wetsuits we’d be fine. So in we went, and it was really great fun. After lunch, however, there were a lot more jellyfish on the beach - not a good sign – but I figured life is all about new experiences. I was barely in up to my chest when a tentacle wrapped around my thigh and trailed down my leg. It was intensely creepy, and then the pain set in. It burned in waves. Although the worst was over after an hour, I could still feel it a bit the next day. A week later it re-inflamed and itched like hell for two days. I still have the mark, a faint red ring above my knee. Not an experience I’d recommend.
Our last stop was Cabo San Lucas, at the tip of the Baja peninsula. Too small for the ship to dock, it just dropped anchor in the bay and we tendered in. Cabo is sparkling and new, clearly designed by and for Americans, and I loved it in spite of myself. We’d signed up for an eco-snorkeling adventure, and it was.
Our guide took us by speedboat to a seal colony, parked us in the middle of a dolphin feeding frenzy, and found a couple spots where it looked like we were snorkeling in a tropical aquarium. (I guess we were.) There were dozens, hundreds, probably thousands of fish. Fluorescent yellow, purple, orange. Coral, too. The water was really cold, however. Otherwise they’d never have gotten me out.
Once we got into dry clothes, everyone else in our group wanted to go someplace called Cabo Wabo. Apparently it’s a local institution, a real tourist landmark. Sounded pretty corny to me, but whatever. Turns out they have the best margaritas in the world. Really. I tried five or six, just to be sure.
Above, views of Cabo from the ship. Below, Lover's Beach, some resort.
I need to get back to studying for my upcoming contracts exam, so wedding pics and more about the rest of my trip will wait for another day.
Cheers,
Sandie
posted by Sandie @ 2:32 AM
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