February 1

February 1

I don't know if it was the sound of the early morning activity of people going to work or the sound of the employees in the restaurant - bar across the street cleaning up after a busy night and preparing for Super Bowl Sunday that woke me up, but there I lay at 5:00 a.m. with no more sleep to come. I finally gave up getting back to sleep and went and showered and got dressed and tried to leave the room as quietly as possible. This is extremely difficult as our door creaks like the rustiest dungeon door ever. No matter how careful I am, I cannot get out quietly.

Out on the street our hotel is on - Calle de Paraguay - the air is fresh and scrubbed clean by last night's thunderstorm and the light rain which had stopped falling short minutes ago. I head south toward the Rosita, sister hotel of the Pescador Hotel. I cross Calle de Chile walking toward Calle de Venezuela where I turn left, or inland and walk a short distance to a merging Calle de Argentina and I walk uphill heading for Avenida de Mexico, a main drag which runs into the end of the Malecon before it diverts inland for one block and then parallels the Malecon.

When I reach Avenida de Mexico, I ended up in front of an OXXO store, the Mexican equivalent to a Canadian 7/11. I am facing Hidalgo Park which covers a city block and has an underground parking garage. This morning in the half-hour or so before sunrise there are 12 young men being marched around the park in precision drill by 2 tough-looking older what appear to be officers. I didn't see any kind of formal uniform to show me if they were police or soldiers. There were 4 rows of 3 abreast. They were high stepping and swinging their arms to shoulder height. As they made their turn, they made sharp snappy steps. I didn’t know if these were training laps or punishment lapsI watched them do 4 circuits and then I proceeded down Mexico to the Rosita Hotel. It extends from Calle Jesus Langarica to Calle de 31 de Octobre, the beginning of the Malecon. The front of the hotel has shops all along the avenue. On the other side, a block apart, are a Starbucks and a McDonald's, both of whom have drinkable coffee. Unfortunately both are still closed and there are no signs posting hours of operation.

I head back to the OXXO as a light misty rain starts to fall. The marchers are gone but the streets and sidewalks are starting to show increased traffic with many Mexicans going to church or to work. I get a large cafe americano and head back to the hotel where Patti has already risen after a sleepless night. I was quiet for naught earlier.

After we prepared a sort shopping list, I headed over to Lay's for some fresh fruits and veggies, and some more ice. Breakfast was some delicious yogurt with some of Patti's excellent home-made granola and a banana from Lay’s.

Patti then set off with her camera on a photo expedition while I started to write my daily blog. As I was busy typing I suddenly was startled to see something black that was nearing my left leg under the table. After my initial scare, I saw that it was one of the long-tailed blackbirds from the street, who unbeknownst to me, had flown onto our balcony and hopped through the open patio door and was proceeding to peck up some minute scraps of food that he had spotted.

I slowly reached for my ever-present camera so as not to startle him. But by the time I got it open and focused, he was out the door in search of food on the patio. Hearing me get up from the chair, he flew across the street and sat on a railing and scolded me from his now safe distance.

When I finished my writing and after doing some people watching from the balcony, I had a sandwich for lunch with a Tecate. Then I put on my swimming trunks, gathered up my towel and pool stuff, and I headed to my "beach" which was the pool area. Again there were some brave souls testing the Pacific even though the red flags were still up.

Patti came back from her "photo shoot”, had lunch, and a short nap. She was just getting ready join me at poolside when I returned to the room because it had just started raining and as I was done with my swimming, I thought reading my Kobo would be better inside.

Our friends and our in-laws went to a Super Bowl party being hosted by another Winnipegger. They were renting a condo at the extreme southern end of town on the side of one of the small mountains that surround PV. We chose not to go as Patti wanted to go to dancing in the park at 7 p.m. and I discovered we had good coverage of the game in the hotel. The rain continued to fall

We watched the game for the first half, me intently, Patti with one eye on the rain. She really wanted to go to the dancing which was done in one of the parks opposite the Malecon. At half-time the rain had eased up enough for us to walk over to one of the street stalls where we each had a quesadilla. Mine was tripa which is the most deliciously prepared tripe. Scots all over the world would be aghast at how good Mexicans can make tripe taste.

As we walked there we noticed family groups huddling under overhangs and canopies. Their eagerly awaited long weekend was turning into a complete washout. One could almost see the dejection in the their body postures and their attempts of finding something positive about the day.

By 7:00 it was only misting outside, so Patti headed for the park while I got comfortable for the second half. I must admit that I was cheering for the Seattle Seahawks only because of the 2 ex-Bombers playing for them. I wasn’t too devastated when they lost just as it looked like they were going in for the game-winning TD. You get so jaded when you get older!

To celebrate the good game that it had been, I went down to the street meat stalls where I had noticed that one of them had tacos de lengua for sale. Nathan and David and I used to treat ourselves to this kind of taco after a hard evening of homework when we lived in Guadalajara. I got my 2 tacos and while I admit to enjoying them, they were definitely not in the same league as you get in Guadalajara and nowhere as good as the ones I make at home.

Patti got back just as the rain started up again. Now on top of a very poor night’s sleep; 2 round trips on the Malecon, dancing in the park, and a photo shoot trek, Patti must have covered about 20 kms and was exhausted.

We were both tired and as it was still raining and looking like it would rain in all night, we turned in for the night.

February 2

February 2:

I woke up early Monday morning hoping that the rain had stopped but I saw that it continued to fall and harder than ever. There was no venturing out to OXXO for a coffee. In the short block there I would have been soaked!

I read from my novel that I had selected on my Kobo -The Plague - by Albert Camus. When the restaurant downstairs opened at 7:30, I decided I would "splurge" on one of their breakfasts. I ordered in Spanish (a lot of my lost Spanish is slowly returning) and sat back to admire the waves rolling in on the shore and the low-hanging clouds emptying themselves of their moisture on PV.

The young waiter brought me a large cup of "cafe americano" and some crema and azucar (cream and sugar). At first he was hesitant with me because his English was limited but when he saw or heard that I had some Spanish he was emboldened to use his English and I practised my limited Spanish on him. Together we were able to communicate quite effectively.

I had ordered a huevos tapatio breakfast which was 2 eggs sunny-side up on a large corn tortilla with some hot sauces on top - a hotter green one and a milder red one. Bookmarking the eggs were frijoles covered with quesa (cheese) and with corn chips in them to enable scooping the beans up and on the other side was a substantial amount of chilaquiles covered with some cheese curds. Also there was a side dish of 4 slices of Mexican pan (bread) with 4 packages of mantequilla (churned butter) and some delicious jam made of a berry that the waiter couldn't identify to me in English or Spanish.

The young man hovered over me because I wasn't as demanding as some of the other foreign guests in the room and probably because he felt comfortable talking to me. I must admit that for all this service and attention I left him a substantial tip.

Part of the rest of the day was taken up in watching the Mexican weekend vacationers trying to make the best of the weather situation. There were families in the pool because the water was warmer than the surface temperature which hovered around 20C. There were families on the beach with some of them cavorting in the waves.

During heavy downpours some of the older people retreated to shelter under overhangs and large beach umbrellas.

I did my daily blog, read some more from my novel, napped - I hadn't been sleeping well because of the arthritis in my shoulders - and then when there was a little bit of a break in the weather, I went down to the pool and did some water exercises and I visited with a French couple from Hearst, Ontario who were sitting at the pool's edge with their feet dangling in the water and sipping on some Budweiser beer.

The rain let up enough that Patti and I were able to walk the 6 blocks to Pepe's restaurant where we joined Sue and Phil and Millie and Wally for our evening meal. Patti and I had a platter of cut-up chicken thigh meat fried up with spices and onions and mushrooms. This dish came with a stack of soft corn tortillas and you made your own tacos and put your own hot sauce on the tacos. The sauces ranged in strength from mild to "Fire-engine hot"! Wash this down with ice-cold Fanta Naranja - orange crush type - and you can get a taste of nirvana!

After the meal we made our way back to the Rosita. Phil peeled off to our hotel and I stayed only a few minutes at the “Rosie” watching the 3 sisters play fast scrabble. I left because my arms and legs were really paining me.

Back at our Hotel Pescador I took an Advil and then tried to read more of my novel. Patti and Sue had to stay at the Rosita a while longer because just after I got back to our hotel, the sky opened up again.

Tomorrow's forecast is for 25C and mostly sunny!

As I finish this my friend the blackbird is back, sitting on the rail, preening himself and watching me type. Now he alights on the patio and moves up to the door sill but does not venture in this time. I guess the pickings inside our room are too slim to chance being pounced on by the big creature at the laptop!

January 31

January 31

It seems funny to wake up to the sound of activity in the street below flavored with the barking of perros de la calle (street dogs, strays) so early in the morning! Top that off with the fact that by afternoon the temperature will be in the upper 20C range and one thinks that this could be okay!

I was up early and I went to sit on the common balcony overlooking the waves hoping to spot the orcas again. The pelicans had discovered a school of fish close to shore and were busy feeding. Up in the sky overhead were the most graceful of fliers, frigate-birds, circling in big easy loops overhead. From rooftops came the sounds of countless mourning doves. Present were the pesky long-tailed blackbirds and the ubiquitous pigeons. Darting in and out of the palms were yellow-breasted chats, fairly large members of the warbler family. The air was clean and fresh and the day seemed promising.

I had coffee in the hotel’s dining room with 2 Winnipeggers whom I hadn't seen in ages. The coffee was mediocre at best and only lukewarm but the young lady serving it kept us enamored with her beautifully accented English. She worked us well for her tip.

Patti and her sister left early to take in the market near the pier at the Old Town's Farmers' Market to buy some artisan bread and to see the beautiful crafts and tasty foods on display for sale. I thought I would take a bus to the market and walk back on the Malecon but it was such a beautiful day that I decided to walk.

The Malecon was very busy with tourists from out of country and Mexicans who were making a holiday of their Constitution Day weekend. Monday is the official day. There were the Caucasians with their various stages of color – you could tell how long some had been here by the amount of tan they had. The Mexicans were mostly in family groups and they were loud and happy! It had been quite a long while since I had seen the Malecon this busy!

At the market were so many people that it was difficult to move around. There was much to see and do but it was in a great press of flesh. Having been at many Mexican markets before, I made my escape across the street and got on a bus and headed back to the hotel. My bus stop was right behind Lay’s Supermercado, so I went inside and found myself a nice pre-packaged dinner of Spanish rice, corn tortillas and a large portion of roasted chicken breast with a wing attached for about a buck and a half in Canadian money.

Back at the hotel I thoroughly enjoyed my meal along with an ice-cold Tecate! Then I changed into my swim trunks, grabbed my shades, Goldeyes’ baseball cap, my Kobo reader, a towel, and headed for the pool. There were some brave or fool-hardy Mexicans on the beach but the water was still too rough and the red warning flags were out. It was the pool for me. I found an empty lounger, set myself up, and then went in an enjoyed a refreshing swim. By late afternoon I had acquired some tan foundation.

Sunset found us at a beachside seafood bar and grill near the Hotel Rosita on the Malecon. Our tables were on the beach under a canopy. Here we met Patti’s sisters and their husbands for the ceremonial sunset drink and a light supper. My order was octopus tacos, a particular favorite of mine, and my sunset drink was – wait for it – a mango margarita. I hadn’t had either for many years and I must say I enjoyed them.

A little ways down the beach was a large family of concerned Mexicans who were gathered around some emergency medical personnel who were treating a young girl who had injured herself on the beach. They were there for quite awhile before they carted her off the beach.

Farther down the beach was an aerial act happening. The Voladores de Papantla (flyers of Papantla, also sometimes known as hombres pajaro, or "bird men") are indigenous performers who demonstrate an ancient cultural tradition that is closely associated with the Totonac people from the Papantla area of Veracruz

The ritual involved five men, dressed in white shirts, red pants, a sash and a cap. The men climb the 30-meter pole and settle onto a four-cornered platform. The caporal (musician) sits in the center and plays the drum and flute. The voladores each have a rope tied around their waists. When all five performers are in place, they start to rotate the platform, effectively winding the ropes around the pole.

As the rope unwinds, the fliers descend towards the ground. Traditionally the voladores make 13 laps around the pole, which multiplied by 4 fliers equals 52, the number of weeks in the calendar year.
They repeated their performance twice during the course of our meal.
Patti and her sister than went for a long walk on the Malecon while the rest of us returned to our hotels.