Early December is so bleak even the colours at a local Art Show weren't enough to lift the blues. So the car gets washed, battery stored, and off we go over the Sierra Madres to Puerto Vallarta. Just in time for the first of many Mexican sunsets.
We're staying at Lucie's, same as a few years ago. That's me on the balcony but is that my black Solstice below?? We like the charm of the old place. Right away one of us shakes it up at zumba, and the other cuts it off at Carranza.
PV is familiar and always interesting. Giant cruise ships call. Dozens of concerts, drag shows, exhibits, and live music. Media Luna was Latin/flamenco with blurs of passionate guitar. And the local ritual of walking the sundown.
But the huge ritual going on this week is the Festival of Guadalupe, the patron saint of Mexico. You can look up the history, but for 12 days there are endless pious processions from every neighbourhood, club, hotel, business association, school, restaurant, etc., etc. The streets are closed off, the bands blare, and the priests work in shifts to bless each and every one. Then you eat. Colours and passions!
Back at the apartment, the view is to the Pacific. On the sidewalk below an artist sees a motorcycle but paints a yacht? After dark the street teems with wandering mariachis, kids selling dayglo trinkets, and foodies looking for the next sensation.
So we're PV bound. No weeds under our wheels...
We're staying at Lucie's, same as a few years ago. That's me on the balcony but is that my black Solstice below?? We like the charm of the old place. Right away one of us shakes it up at zumba, and the other cuts it off at Carranza.
PV is familiar and always interesting. Giant cruise ships call. Dozens of concerts, drag shows, exhibits, and live music. Media Luna was Latin/flamenco with blurs of passionate guitar. And the local ritual of walking the sundown.
But the huge ritual going on this week is the Festival of Guadalupe, the patron saint of Mexico. You can look up the history, but for 12 days there are endless pious processions from every neighbourhood, club, hotel, business association, school, restaurant, etc., etc. The streets are closed off, the bands blare, and the priests work in shifts to bless each and every one. Then you eat. Colours and passions!
Back at the apartment, the view is to the Pacific. On the sidewalk below an artist sees a motorcycle but paints a yacht? After dark the street teems with wandering mariachis, kids selling dayglo trinkets, and foodies looking for the next sensation.
So we're PV bound. No weeds under our wheels...
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