WATER WEEK

How many times can you notice the theme of water in today's blog...?

Right away in the first days here in Vallarta plumbers had to come up to fix pesky water leaks in the kitchen and bathroom. And Pat couldn't get over her serious coughing, so another doctor and more prescriptions. Ironically, one of the hi-tech suggestions was to inhale Vick's VapoRub in hot water under a towel, just like we did as kids. And another was to snort a saline solution --- sea water --- several times a day.

Along the shore, a pelican stayed out of the water after finishing off a bottle of Old Seabird. But the old seabird was finishing off a cup of coffee! Appearing like a Car Guy's dream was a rally of about a dozen absolutely pristine beauties from the '50's, like this 1955 Ford. A treat for a guy who hasn't been behind a steering wheel for months. Meanwhile, a horse of a different kind left his exhaust on the street. Wonder of wonders, the caballero dismounted to stoop and scoop --- better than a lot of dog walkers.

There's always something going on along the walkway by the water. Kids marvel at playing the drums. The full moon rises by the cathedral spire. And the iconic dolphins seem to be alive, leaping and splashing in the fountain's multi-coloured waters.

On one stage there's a Mexican Idol final four. On another there's a troupe of kids dancing like their ancestors. The nightly pirate ship glides by on dark waters, ready to fire cannons and fireworks at us landlubbers. So naturally we joined in the fearless dancing brigades --- tangoes under the mangoes!

The worrisome water works for the tourist season was the arrival of huge pounding waves for days on end. No surfing here because rocks are thrown up with the foam. Acres of beach washed away. Gringos thinking maybe they should go inland for tonight's sundowner. And massive erosion right to the dining room!

A handy quirk of our rental is that the balcony is over a sports bar. Pat can lean over the rail and watch the women's championship curling! So if you count ice as hard water, how many mentions of that word today??

A TALE OF THREE CITIES

Didn't need to collect firewood in our last days at Puerto Escondido as the scorching heat continued. It was Pat's turn to go to the same doctora (different antibiotics!) and same haircut place. The handiest local transit has been the many collectivos, 50 cents to go into town or back. You might share the ride with a mariachi band or a weathered woman hauling a bucket of fish for dinner.  Escondido has been a casual unpretentious place to come back to for the surf...

Then a 2 1/2 hour bus ride through dry dusty scrub to Huatulco. It's being marketed as the next big tourism town with 14 distinct sculpted bays in a row. They've even prettied it up with wide landscaped boulevards and daily street sweepers. But we found out almost all of the bays are taken up by members-only "beach clubs" or are accessible only by tour boat. And the air was blisteringly hot with arid winds that dried your skin like yesterday's tamale. Luckily we stayed in a charming older part of town with traditional village square and church. The church ceiling has the largest painting of Our Lady of Guadeloupe in all of Mexico. But overall Huatulco was a disappointment and unimpressive. Ironically, 80% of tourists here are from Canada but of course they stay at package hotels.

Then The Day From Hell going from Huatulco to Puerto Vallarta. What should have taken 4 hours dragged into a frustrating 15. Flight delay (no explanation) another flight delay (no co-pilot!?!), another flight delay, mechanical failure  taxiing out and arrival after 1 am. No food, no apology. "Thankyou for enjoying your pleasant time with Aeromexico" said the cheery recorded voice. A jarring decrepit bus ride into PV and a walk to the pre-booked room about 7 hours late. The Hotel Azteca was where we stayed on our first time in Vallarta, last century. The nostalgia was lost forever when we woke  with multiple bites in multiple hard-to-scratch places...

Things are looking better for the final month. The rental in Vallarta is a half-block from the ocean in a funky old part of town. We're among the gay zone, gringos prowling for the latest restaurant fad, dog walkers, a handy wide oceanside no-car avenue, bus routes, street markets, and the usual hundreds of coffee shops. The apartment is our largest yet at 800 sq. ft. with a comfy living room, much better kitchen than last time, and a balcony overlooking the buzz. Off to the grocery store to load-in supplies and cravings for the month! The sunset pier is one street over. All's well that ends well?

SO MANY FESTIVAS, SO LITTLE TIME!

It's the last week in Puerto Escondido and it seems the days are packed with events or occasions or must-do's. We saw a little of the Super Bowl at a palapa bar but with no sound --- it didn't matter anyway, the broadcast was in Spanish! Then it was Chinese New Year with the sighting of the new moon, but there are no Asians here and the best we could do was have some rice with a meal. Then it was Pancake Tuesday and we had hotcakes in a combo called a Slim Slam. Then today it's Valentine's Day which coincides with me popping the question 3 years ago. No monarch butterflies in sight this time but last night we had a fish dinner overlooking the walking street, 100 feet from the boats.

A must-do is the sea-splashed 2km Rock Walk from one cove to the next. Impressive work to cut through solid granite and build steps into it with bridges and lookouts. Dirty birds and creepy crabs keep you company on the way.

Escondido has been authentic Mexico with scenes long gone elsewhere. Somehow most foreigners stay away and the locals still enjoy their town. Dogs howl, horses clop by, pineapple is sold from wheelbarrows, our landlady brings Italian desserts, tom turkeys strut for females on our dirt road. The Pan American Highway passes through so you can spot long-haul licence plates from Argentina to Alaska!

But the most lasting impression is the ever-pounding sea waves, majestic in their height and clean see-through blue. We're in the Pacific every day, in gentle rollers or Do-You-Dare surf bombs. Turns out our landlord has been surfing for 35 year and lent us his board and experience. All those Beach Boys songs run through your mind as you get thrown around in the tumblers. Absolutely awesome, and we're thinking we'll be back...