Category: Mexico 2023

This morning, very soon after our breakfast, I got a text from Bridget. She and Wes and a bunch of friends are meeting at Patrice’s place (which happens to be just around the corner from our place) for their regular Monday morning jam. Did Rudy want to join? Rudy was game so I brought a chair and Rudy brought his guitar and off we went. There were about 10 musicians and a few hangers on. The structure of the jam went as follows. The musicians went around the circle each taking a turn to suggest a song and sing and play while the others joined in. There were some original songs and lots of cover songs from various artists from Johnny Cash to Chris Stapleton. This type of jam is familiar to me, but new to Rudy. It is a nice way to pass a morning with friends In a courtyard in Mexico.

By one o’clock we were hungry so we joined Bridget and Wes at a restaurant for shrimp tostados. Mmm. They were delicious. Fresh shrimp, chopped tomatoes and onions and avocados on crispy tostados.

After that I had some time to rest before heading off to James and Augusta’s to babysit Callum. They had a date night planned. Callum is as sweet as pie all the time and it is a pleasure to take care of that smiley boy. After some fun playing we went for a walk and met Rudy who joined  us for the remaining time. After more fun and a tub time we popped him off to bed in his little tent and sat out on the patio reading until the parents came home.

This morning we have a jungle and beach walk planned. Augusta and James and Callum pick us up and we drive to get breakfast pastries and drinks for the hour and a half walk to San Pancho (the next village up the coast). The day is cooler than usual so we are glad about that. We head up Avenida de Palmar and the houses are beautiful. This is a nicer part of town. When we get to the end we take the dirt trail and then climb the rocks along the edge of the ocean until we get to an easier trail. We follow this awhile until we get to a huge beach that is more private. You can only access it by walking in. It is beautiful.

The tides are low enough that we can go through the tunnels. Gus is excited. She has never been here when that is a possibility.

After walking an expanse of beach we are back into the jungle. Even though it is not rainy season, it is lush. There are built up areas where mountain bikers have built jumps and other obstacles. The last bit of the walk is along the highway and then into town. The town is lovely. The streets are wider, the sidewalks wider and it is just a bit more genteel than Sayulita. Rudy likes it. Augusta and James spent a week here with friends so take us to a restaurant that they like. Delicious. Afterwards we take the bus back to Sayulita. Rudy and I decide we might spend our last week in Mexico in San Pancho.

When I first arrive in a new locale, especially one where the culture and language are different from my own, I try to become attuned to the sights and sounds of the area. This is true for our trip so far. It’s a way that we, as outsiders, gain some understanding of a place. In San Miguel we watched and listened to the workers in the courtyard below as they built forms and poured concrete and slowly, day by day, made progress on a building project. The tap tap of their hammers began precisely at 8 a.m. and soon after, as we took our morning tea and coffee on the rooftop patio, we heard the radio softly playing Mexican music. The workers across the street and farther away were not so subtle. They used power tools and preferred their tunes louder. In the streets the drivers were very courteous, stopping for pedestrians to cross. Many people greeted us on the street with Hola, Buenos Dias or Buenas Tardes. In Guanajuato, we had the constant of the church bells immediately in front of our hotel in the central square. It rang on every quarter of the hour and the deep bong bong marked the day (and the night) in a comforting sort of way. I used my limited Spanish and although our tourist status was apparent, it felt like we belonged in the rush of university students, shop vendors, and others that packed the streets. Yes, we were not locals and, as such, stood out, but we were caught up in the daily routines of those around us.

Now we are in the beach town of Sayulita and learning the lay of the land. I am beginning to understand the language around here. And I am not talking Spanish. Really, in Sayulita, a person hardly needs to know Spanish. Even Rudy’s charades that have kept me quite amused during the trip are no longer necessary. (Although he still pretends to scribble on his hand whenever he wants the bill.) What we have found, that needs some translation, is the constant chatter on the street. And I am not talking human chatter. There is the overly loud cha cha cha of the music coming from across the street, (Does that guy sitting on his plastic chair contemplating some possible activity today really need the whole neighbourhood, or even the whole side of town east of the Punta Mita highway, to hear and appreciate the amateurish out-of-tune recording he has playing on the radio or does the man who expertly maneuvers his massive scrap metal truck down our narrow potholed dirt road in our neighbourhood each day, his loud speaker blaring from atop the cab roof, really think that today I will have some old barbed wire or a bedspring to throw out for him. I didn’t have any yesterday and he probably only needs to check with me (and the neighbours) in a week or so from now.

But really what I want you to know is that I am beginning to understand another type of language. It is the language of the dogs and the roosters. Because they are constantly yelling, I now am able to identify each of them. For example, there is Senora Sanchez across the street. She is a small dog and the sound of her high-pitched voice is excruciating. She is often pissed with Mrs. Gibbons (owned by the expat at the corner)and has no qualms about letting her know. And when she starts, the two dogs that live across the empty lot beside us, chime in. You can see their heads poking over the concrete wall putting in their two centavos. Senor Pablo Garcia and his partner in crime, Senor Rodrigo Lopez, who appear to have no fixed address, are always up for a squabble. They are particularly testy after a night on the town. Really, I can understand the short fuse they have with the rooster, Senor Canta Incesantemente, who begins his morning wake-up calls at 4 in the morning and doesn’t shut up until noon. I also would like to make chicken soup of him each and every morning. Old lady Lucia Maria Hernandez de Perez, who lives below us, and can barely move her rotund aging body off the road, always has a say, even though she never joins in physically to a fight.  And so it goes, each and every morning…..and afternoon……and evening.  On and on and on. The Bremen Town Musicians have moved to Sayulita.

So…..what have we been up to? The days are whipping by and by now I am almost at the point where I feel like it is hardly worth while to catch everyone up on the news.  We will soon be home. We have less than a week left in Sayulita. James and Augusta and Callum leave tomorrow and really I would be ready to hop on a plane and come home too. It seems like it is always that way at the end of a trip. I have to breathe deeply to enjoy the last dregs of the journey.

Food (the procurement and consumption) has become a big focus to our days. We have our favourite spots. Don Juan’s at the end of our street is our go to place. It is really nice and the menu is extensive. We’ve sampled everything from the tortilla soup to the shrimp and beef hamburgers, to the seafood pasta as well as traditional Mexican cuisine. On my last visit I had the fruit of the sea pasta dish which included shrimp, Mahi Mahi, mussels, scallops, and calamari.

Another favourite eatery is on the opposite end of the spectrum. It is a little food stand with only a few stools at a narrow counter. Tacos Tono (short for Antonio) opens most nights some time between 7 and 8 pm. Tono and his wife run the stand and they are always delightful to observe.  They are a classy pair and good business partners. A large wedding photo of them hangs on the wall in the small area. She is often singing and both of them chat and joke with the customers. This is a super feel good place. The vibes AND the food are top notch. The best taco is the Taco Suedero, a beef brisket taco. The toppings counter is extensive…..delicious guacamole, fried onions, shredded cabbage, tomatoes, radishes, beans, and LOADS of salsas. My mouth is watering now as I am writing about it.

 

I could go on and on about the places we have discovered but I will just mention the delicious churros from the street stands and the dozens of flavours of paletas that are made locally that can be found at Wa Kika.

 

 

A highlight from our stay here in Sayulita has been James and Augusta’s son Callum. He is a sunny cheerful chap and is easy to be around. He has lots of giggles for his Opa and Nomi and we have enjoyed babysitting him. Today Augusta and James are at a fancy rooftop bar and pool. (Augusta won tickets to this at a fundraiser event she went to with her cousins.) When it is time for nap we lie him down with Boris, the stuffed deer, and his soother and he chatters himself off to sleep most of the time. When he doesn’t, all you have to do is pat his bum for about two seconds and he is out. On Saturday we had him for the whole day when all the cousins (Hilary Klassen included) and their children went on a boat for the day. Supposedly it was fantastic. They saw whales breaching, were followed by between 150 to 200 spinner dolphins, went to an island and climbed through caves, etc. etc. Maybe our day doesn’t sound as fantastic staying with Callum, but it was close. It may be a bit of a grandparent thing but seeing one’s kids happy and enjoying each other and taking care of their offspring is a huge pleasure.

One day we did an adventure to Buscerias to see friends of Augusta and James’s (Murray and Jane Kessleman). These people are parents of their good friends Steve and Elise and have been like second parents to James. So, James feels totally at home with them. (“Is there any food,?” James says when we arrive. “I’m starving.”) Jane and Murray were very gracious hosts and fed us a lovely brunch. We then walked the beach and saw a sidewalk chalk painting contest.  After that we left to have our own adventure. Yikes it was so hot that we only managed a bit of walking and then we found a restaurant for a nice cold drink  before we headed back to Sayulita on the bus.

This past week we had the annual Sayulita Days. The first indication that it was going to be a loud party time was the load of beer in the back of our neighbour’s truck. Even though we live on the edge of town the noise was deafening at times. (Even the roosters upped their game in order to compete,) This week long festival involves a huge midway as well as a parade, a crowning of Miss Sayuliya, and a rodeo and loads of partying.  We tried to steer clear of it for the most part but on Friday when James, Augusta, Callum, Hilary and I went on the beach jungle hike to San Pancho, Rudy stayed back and saw some of the festivities. He watched the parade that had school children with traditional costumes and horses. (He said it was kind of like the Pioneer Days Parade in Steinbach minus the tractors and combines.)

On the weekend was a music festival in San Pancho (a town just up the road a number of miles). Bridget and Wes and a pile of their friends volunteer at it. It runs Friday, Saturday, and Sunday evenings. I even volunteered at the event. There was a variety of music from jazz to electronic, Latin, and also folk.

We took the local La Compostela bus to the event and even had some excitement on the way on Sunday night. A 30ish year old man tried to get onto the bus at the station without a ticket. He claimed the ticket was in his pocket but when pressed could not produce it. The bus driver told him to go out to the street and he would pick him up there.( I think it is cheaper to catch it on the street and the bus was ready to leave.) Anyway, we were seated right behind the driver and got a front row seat for the action. When the bus stopped to pick him up he didn’t pay right away so the bus driver said he would pull over until the passenger could get out his money. And so we waited. There was more patting of pockets and looking in his bag for the “lost” ticket. But to no avail.   An argument ensued. My Spanish is limited but I got the feeling that this young man was familiar to the bus operators and this bus driver was not going to let him get away with his lame story of losing his ticket. After much back and forth at a high volume, the young man hauled out money to pay. By this time both the bus driver and the young man were feeling hot under the collar. In a fit of self righteousness the young man refused to take his change and stomped towards the back of the bus with a few choice words thrown over his shoulder. The bus driver threw the change back after him. This was too much for our pony-tailed passenger. He marched back to the front, leaned menacingly above the driver, raised his fist and tried to punch him. There was a scuffle. The bus driver got up and ordered him off the bus. Another passenger (an expat going to the festival and possibly his friend) tried to calm Mr. Pony-Tail. More shouting occurred and finally the young pony-tailed festival goer exited the bus. Yikes, what excitement. Rudy saw him later at the festival. I would have loved to see how he got there.

Besides these activities we have enjoyed some beach time. I absolutely love swimming in the waves. Rudy, not so much. But he sits on a beach lounger and plays with Callum when James and Augusta come down. True to Rudy form he is certain to obtain a good deal for the chair rental. He pays by the hour instead of the day because that’s just the kind of guy he is. (Why would he pay for the whole day if he knows he has no intention of being at the beach all day? After all he hates the beach). He settles on a price of 100 pesos for one hour and gives the chair boy a 200 peso bill and asks for change. When the chair boy returns a couple of hours later he says that our time is up as we have been there for 2 hours. Rudy argues his point that he made a one hour deal and the boy did not come back with his change. By this time Augusta, James, and Callum have come down to the beach and I would just like to spend another 100 pesos for the total day deal (300 pesos is the day price for the chairs and umbrella). Rudy does not like this. He wants his 100 pesos in change. His dealings are based on principle (his words) and he does not abide  any slipperiness on the part of the chair rental people. An argument ensues. And soon the chair rental manager shows up. This  causes some embarrassment for me. I am not known for my haggling abilities and heaven forbid that I might have to confront someone and, if it comes down to it, I just want to stay and swim now that I have some willing swimmers. And really, in the big picture,  a whole day’s charge is not that much more. In the end Rudy wins the fight but loses the war. I slink off down the beach in the opposite direction, somewhat humiliated.. Rudy walks away with a sour expression on his face. Augusta and James are mystified by the haggling over 100 pesos. Only Callum is oblivious to what has all gone down. I would like to come any to Playa Los Muertos again some day. It is a nice beach. But probably I will have to go to the less desirable boat beach. I really cannot show my face here again.

Today is moving day. When we originally booked our airbnb in Sayulita we thought we would fly home the last day of February. But by the time we purchased our return tickets the next possible flight was March 4th. So today we had to move to another place for our final days. We considered a stay in San Pancho, the village up the road. It is charming and has a lovely vibe. (Not to mention the clean streets and wide sidewalks.) When visiting there we (especially Rudy) was impressed with the order and cleanliness of the place. (Rudy stands by the old German adage, Alles in Ordnung.) But we couldn’t find a place there that was satisfactory. We also checked Buscerias. I had been impressed by the beach there and wanted to spend my last days in the calm water (Sayulita’s surf is rougher). And I stand by the camping motto, Everything is better at the Lake (or Ocean if no lake is available). Then finally we decided we were too lazy to move and so were going to extend our stay by 4 days. But we had waited too long. It was now booked. So we began our search for another  place in Sayulita.

So now we are at a little hotel on Playa Azul. It is tiny but bright and new and modern. The rooms are small but everything is clean (Rudy is smiling) and there is a pool in the back courtyard (I am smiling). Rudy has done his nesting. (His toiletries are hanging in the bathroom, the beer is in the fridge, and he has arranged his t-shirts on the shelf. Now he is sitting doing a crossword puzzle. I have also done the thing that makes me happy. I have taken a dip in the pool.

All is well. In fact compared to yesterday we are super well. And I mean well in the healthy sense of the word. Yesterday Rudy was suffering from a terrible headache and fever. (Today he has a rash from it.) And I had a gastrointestinal upset. Yuck. It was terrible. I was weak and sick and couldn’t wander too far from the facilities. Although we are not a hundred percent today we managed the move across town and are looking forward to the new sights and sounds (I am hoping for no dogs, no roosters, and no loud motorcycles) and of course a new bunch of restaurants. We are very close to the North Beach as well and I will certainly spend some time there.

The air cools off in the evening and I even wrap a scarf around my neck to go out for supper. We decide on burgers as my stomach is a little iffy and the thought of seafood is too much. We end up in a scruffy little place past the main square area. The waitress wears leather and has lots of tattoos on her midriff. A man inside the bar/restaurant sees a friend driving down the street and hollers loudly chasing him down. This is not a genteel establishment. We order two for one priced margaritas and they arrive with tajin on the rim of the glass. Delicious. Rudy and I share a burger and fries. The fries are the homemade sort much like the ones my mom used to make. The burger has a similar feeling. Comfort food. Like home. Like where we are headed  for soon.

Rudy has made a discovery. It took him a while. We had been in our new digs for the afternoon and evening yesterday and as we were climbing into bed he spotted it. “Oh,” he gasped, “Did you see that?” I glanced up nervously. What could it be? We have had large spiders on our walls and lizards clambering up into holes and cracks in our last place. All that is par for the course and really nothing that I worry about. But what was Rudy getting excited about? Was it a scorpion? That would warrant my immediate attention. There really was no possibility of a snake which is really the only thing I am terrified of.

“IT’S a TV!” he said incredulously. I let out a big sigh. Whew!  Nothing to get worried about.  But there he sat, eyes wide and heart beating just a little faster than usual. He definitely was shaken.

Yes, it is true. The man who spends hours watching news and sports on TV has been without it for two months. Really, I am surprised he recognized the device. But surprisingly after the initial shock he has not even tried to turn it on. He seems indifferent to it. Perhaps he will come home a changed man and rearrange his living room and take down his TV and maybe start some new hobby? Who knows? He has been watching me do crafts for two months. Maybe he will haul up a craft table and construct little wool monsters or get out the yarn and knitting needles and knit a sweater. The possibilities are endless. Miracles happen and people are changed by their experiences. Get ready, friends and family at home. The new Rudy Nikkel will be stepping off the plane on Saturday.

Rudy and I have enjoyed our time down here in Mexico. Life is good. We have each other’s company. The days are warm and the nights cool. People are friendly. There’s really nothing much to ruffle our feathers. We’re just “wasting away again in Sayulita-ville.”

Today we went out for a late lunch. We wanted to get tacos at Naty’s Cocina, a restaurant that Augusta and James had raved about. Supposedly the chicken mole tacos are delicious. But when we got there the sun was shining hotly on the picnic tables at the curb and there was a lineup. So instead we headed for a place called Ruben’s for sandwiches. The tables were in the shade on the sidewalk and all was well…

Except for a bit of commotion on the street in front of us. A man had a couple of crates on end with a towel placed nicely on top of them. He had three shells and a small pebble which he moved around under the shells — the ‘shell game’ — and around him were a number of people who appeared to be placing bets on which shell the pebble was under. There was a lot of cheering and yelling and it looked like the players were guessing correctly and winning way more often than not.

But appearances can be deceiving. As we sat and watched over lunch, it became clear that all of these people were in on what was a scam. Instead of watching the shell game, they were mostly keeping their eyes out for innocent passers-by and calling out to them, trying to convince them to come join them in the fun. I didn’t understand much of what was being said but lots of (fake) excitement was radiating from the betting table as they tried to lure people in.

At one point they managed to attract a woman who was walking by to come on over and one of the scammers asked the woman to put her finger on what she claimed was the winning shell so that she could get something from her purse. Surprise, surprise! When the shell was turned over, sure enough, it was a winner! There were cheers from the scammers and the dealer passed out 200 pesos to the supposed winner. “And,” he exclaimed to the passerby, “here’s 200 for you too because you kept your finger on the shell.” The passerby declined and walked away, but the scammer woman who had “won” the 200 pesos ran over and pulled her back and urged her to take the other 200 pesos from the dealer. Then all the scammers around the crate chimed in for her to continue playing. “No thanks,” she said and walked away with the 200 pesos. Yikes! The scammers were scammed at their own game — not only did they not entice the stranger to bet (and lose) a pile of money; now THEY were losing 200 pesos of their own money! This was not how the game was supposed to go. There was a moment’s hesitation and then the scammer woman ran after the passerby and grabbed the 200-peso note back.

All very entertaining for us watching from our tables on the sidewalk. You don’t get live theatre like that everyday. And we didn’t have to pay anything for the show.

Perhaps this will be my last post for the trip. Tomorrow we leave…..hopefully. I have been following some stories on the news as well as anecdotes from a friend or a friend… The long and short of it is that Swoop (and other airlines) have been canceling flights and people are stranded. I am hoping that our flight is not only running but also on time.

But for now we are enjoying our last days.

Yesterday, I woke up and wandered down to the beach for Luca’s (Tessa’s boy) surf club. His Pops (my brother Wes) takes him every Wednesday at 7 a.m. before school. Not only was it a great opportunity for a walk on the beach and a visit with my brother but I also got to see Luca surf with some of his friends. As a child it would have seemed strange to think that I would have a Manitoba niece who would have a child who surfs frequently. Life is strange. It takes you places that you would never have imagined. And then it is commonplace and you hardly give it a second thought. This is Luca’s life and he probably can’t imagine anything different.

Yesterday, we decided that we needed to get our fill of seafood before we left Mexico and so for lunch we went to our favourite shrimp taco place (Diose) and filled up on Tacos Cameron a la plancha. By suppertime we were thinking of shrimp again so off to El Jakal for their famous coconut shrimp plate. Am I full of shrimp yet? I don’t know. It is 11:15 a.m. as I write this and already I am beginning to think of the shrimp tostadas that we had a couple of weeks ago. (A tostada piled with chunks of avocado and tomato and large shrimp. Maybe we will go there for lunch if Rudy is on board.

Lunch time and we do go for one last taco at Naty’s .I get a some final chicken mole ones. Afterwards we stop at Wa Kika for a yogurt paleta and we meet Wes and Bridget and a pile of their grandkids. Wes hasn’t eaten yet so we go back to Naty’s for food for him and afterwards wander down to show him our place. One story leads to another and we wile away a couple of hours on our couch. We agree to meet at Miramar Bar for the sunset.  There is still time for one last walk to the end of the beach. I never tire of watching the waves crashing and trying not to let the big waves get us too wet. I even find a few little stones and shells and a broken chunk of tesserae to bring home. We stop by the Miriamar Bar on the way back  to see if Wes and Bridget and the gang are there yet but no go. It is Friday night (Pizza night) so we walk to the little Italian place by the bridge. This guy is from Italy and makes all his own pasta and pizza dough. We have wine and a lovely little pizza. The crust is heavenly. It’s quite dark now and we are late for Miramar but we head there anyway only to find Wes and Bridget packing up their instruments. We ride back into town where they are meeting their kids and grandkids so have a chance to say goodbye to them all.

 

It’s our last morning in Sayulita. Time for one last coffee and tea at El Fortin. We buy pastries at the next door bakery and sit on the patio at the street. We have done this for the last 4 days and it is so lovely to start the morning like this. The air is still cool but the sun is shining. People walk by with their dogs. Motorcycles with full families drive past. Today is no school so the kids do not have their school uniforms on. A beefed up truck with flashing blue headlights, a strip of neon lights on top of the cab, and music blaring bullies its way down the street in front of us. Another morning in Sayulita.

We have to be out of our place by noon so we will roll our suitcases down the streets to the bus station and take the trip on the local bus into Puerto Vallarta Airport. Perhaps we will pick up some smoked Marlin tacos at the famous taco stand just outside the airport and then we will wait for our plane. We have our kindles charged up, a Netflix show downloaded on our phones, and Rudy has his crossword and I have my sudoko so we should be okay until we touch down in Winnipeg. I am looking forward to settling in at home.  See you all soon.