Shake, Rattle and Roll-on Down The Highway

My marido (husband) and I are staying in vibrant Puerto Vallarta on the Pacific
coast of Mexico. We decided to visit a beach on the other side of the bay in a
small town called Bucerias. This of course required a bus ride or should I say -
"The bus ride".

A brief background, which will be relevant in the story later on. In Mexico
they have topes, which are some sort of obstacle on the road, akin to our speed
bumps - intended of course to slow down the traffic. They can be like metal
balls cut in half with the flat side down strewn across the road , a speed hump,
a grande speed bump or ... "the ditch". Unexpectedly to most tourists these can
even exist on the highways when they go thru a small village.

After talking to the desk clerk at the hotel we had the scoop on how to get to
Bucerias via the bus.Catch the local bus to the Wal-Mart where you can catch the
"highway bus", which will take us all the way to Bucerias.

We walked a block or so and as directed and flagged down the local bus. Kevin
described them as Mad Max looking and they definitely looked battle ready as they
tear thru the streets commanding every one's respect - even the cabbies give way
for them. They looked like antique school buses and were painted blue and white
or green and white - just look for the one with "Wal-Mart" painted with white
shoe polish on the windshield.

Vamos! (Let's go). Hop on the bus and try to figure out how many pesos the
driver wants. Simultaneously this amazingly skilled driver takes our money, makes change, issues us a ticket, shifts gears, avoids hitting a tourist, steers around a taxi and looks in the rear view mirror to have a look at the lovely Senorita's legs that boarded the bus in front of us. We are in capable hands.

Down the cobble stone streets we go - they create a low roar as we pick up
speed. It is a teeth jarring, bone rattling ride. Clap, clap, bang, bang as you
hit the uneven and broken-up cobbles. Clapity-clapity! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! You
can barely hear the person next to you.

We are some of the few but by no means only "gringos" on the bus. Puerto
Vallarta is full of retired ex-pat Americans and Canadians who know how to stretch a buck and the buses are just one of those ways.

Ride, stop, pick up passengers flagging us down or dropping off passengers
whistling for the bus to stop. Some gringos flag us down, the bus stops
and the doors open - they shout out their destination without getting on the
bus. No its not the right bus, "you want green and white bus" the driver
politely shouts at them, closes the door and off we go again. In about 20
minutes we arrive at the bus stop in front of the Wal-Mart. We hop off the bus
and wait for a bus headed for Punta Mita. A bus comes - we don't see that on the
wind shield - one or two more and then a bus that says Punta Mita arrives. Kevin
flags it down, it stops, door opens, Kevin says "Bucerias?" - the driver says
"Si" - we hop on.

Ok - now we are on the "highway bus" and just as Speedy Gonzales would say "andale, andale, arriba, arriba" (Hurry up! Go! Go!). The glass partition behind the driver has Jesus with a crown of thorns painted on it - with the blood dripping down from the crown. The driver keeps the doors standing open, I assume to get some air as we drive down the road at highway speeds. Up to speed - on the side of the rode someone flagging us down - stop pulling over slightly - but after all those behind us can go around. And so the ride goes stop, start, speed up, stop. All the seats are full and we have about 10 standing - you figure we won't stop for more - wrong! Driver pulls over - one gets off and 4 get on. More stops - we finally have at least 18 - 20 standing so the driver closes the door ... just to be safe!

In about 40 minutes we come to Bucerias - since we know nothing about it - Kevin has asked the driver to let us know where to get off in Bucerias for "La Playa" (the beach). At one of the stops the driver looks at us and says "aqui" (here) - so we hop off the bus. We have to cross the road, which is a bit dodgy with the traffic - and then it's a short walk to the beach.

We walk the beach looking for a place to light. We come upon some Palapas, which are thatched umbrellas in front of a hotel. Kevin goes in to the office to see if we can light here. Sure for $12 per person - we have the use of everything: beach side chairs and palapas or poolside lounger and the pool. The pool is huge with a fountain, a platform that loungers can sit on in the pool and a vanishing edge facing the ocean to create the illusion that the pool goes right into the ocean. Not a bad spot - we "takem" up on the day pass. We had lunch at the hotel restaurant, which was on the edge of the beach and incredibly good. Kevin got a chilled soup of honeydew, lime and ginger that he is still raving about. A day of sun and cervesas (beer) or two - but not too many because we still that the bus ride back with no bathroom.

We walk back to the highway. What incredible luck - within 3 minutes a bus with "Puerto Vallarta" on the windshield. Kevin flags it down and we get on. The highway bus on the way here had been calmer and in better shape than the town bus - but this bus was pure Mexican. The driver has a minion - not to take money and make change - no the driver still does all that - the minion was to open and close the door because the door opener / closer is not working.

With the driver's favorite Mariachi music blaring we head on down the highway. Ok but with a stop or two ... or 5 dozen. I have the perfect seat - just behind the driver - I can see the road ahead of us. The driver has a laminated playing card sized picture of Madonna - no doubt "Our lady of Puerto Vallarta" hanging from a knob on the dash. To his right is a wooden box that holds change - to his left a small dirty, cracked, white plastic bucket that he tosses the paper money in.

As I mentioned earlier - these drivers are the best. Remember those topes I mentioned at the start? This driver deftly bombs down the highway and service roads. He has all the potholes memorized and knows which ones he should steer around and which ones are ok to plow right thru. He knows which topes are meant "just to slow down the chicken-shit tourists and those whose vehicles that still have shocks" and those that he actually needs to slow down for. He doesn't miss a beat.

Over the driver's shoulder I see something that looks odd in front of us. Now my distance vision is not what it once was but - can it be? "What's that in front of us standing in the back of that pick-up truck" I ask Kevin. Without flinching he says "looks like a horse or donkey to me". Yep standing in the the bed of a small (Toyota-sized) pick-up truck is a donkey riding down the highway. Aye Yae Yae-Yae! We are approaching a traffic light but the bus moves into a side lane to pick up waving bystanders. We slowly move up beside the truck and I get to look the donkey in the eye. He stands proudly in the pick-up bed - everything is "todo bien" (just fine) as far as he is concerned.

We ride on - seeing sights that look sort of familiar - buildings with signs - but they are 100% Mexican. Oh my gosh, there is a Corona Distribution center - the Negro Modello is my favorite. Speaking of Modello beer - I watch a Modello beer can roll across the bus floor. Ok we are getting close to where we need to get off and catch the town bus. On our left we see Los Plazas de Toros (the bull-fighting ring), the Puerto Vallarta mall and then the Wal-Mart. We get off at the Wal-Mart to catch the town bus. We jump off and are a bit confused as to where to catch the town bus. No worries - right there on the curb is a policeman who flags the bus down for us - how is that for service?

We think we traveled about 60 miles round trip - for a total of $5 - not $5 per person but $5 total. I certainly wouldn't have wanted to do it by car. I was grateful to have access to the bus.

"¡Viva México!" "¡Andale, Arriba, Arriba!" (Hurry up! Go! Go!)

Sandy

Puerto Vallarta....... Overwhelmed!

Wow! What a difference a day makes. No, Puerto has not changed, we had. We had put yesterday behind us. It is a cool crisp morning, bluest skies and sunny. This "perfect weather" would quickly spoil the both of us. Does it ever rain here?
As old town spreads out before us, a feast for the senses, we're ready. The sights and sounds, almost overwhelming at first. The smells, everywhere the smells of something wonderful cooking. The textures... the cobles, stucco, the uneven surfaces. It was all so very exciting.
Puerto arcs around the Bay of Banderas with the old town in the south and becomming more and more modern, American , as you move north. We weren't here for that though. We were here for old PV, As it had been for "Richard and Liz" over 50 years ago when they made it the reigning "hot spot".
Impossibly crowded against the base of the coastal mountians, old PV goes vertical almost immediately. Steep and narrow streets climbing into even steeper "stairstep streets" with seemingly unaccessable stepped condos climbing the palm covered mountian-sides even further above it all. It can be quite dizzying. My mind found this place to be European, immediately drawing parallels with Nice or old towns I had known along the Ligurian Coast of Italy.
But different. Maybe it's this "second world" thing? Not tarted-up, not sanitized for the tourists. A little faded perhaps. A layer of soot visible on the off-white, dog-earred and chipped stucco facades. That same soot, or grime if you will, leaving its tell tale signature on your footwear and clothing. A whiff of garbage on a street corner, where, yesterday it might have been picked-up. But because it hasn't rained here in weeks, the residue persists, because, water, it is too precious to waste on the unthinkable luxury of washing streets and sidewalks.
Yes. This place is real. And, we're chomping at the bit to dive right in.
It's not so big, quite walkable actually. Just watch out for the "rambo-busses" and the cars, no crosswalks in these parts. We walk, walk for blocks and blocks. Grid by grid. There's just so much and it's tough to take it all in. Especially due to the notoriously uneven sidewalks and sometimes "cliff-like" curbs. No OSHA or ADA here. And, I suspect, few liability lawyers.
Nope!!
There's not a chain store or resturant in sight. Just hundreds of little mom and pop resturants, corner groceries, tequila/beer/wine shops, pharmacies, hardware stores, schools, doctors, dentists, hairdressers, food carts/stands, phone shops, fish markets, butchers, fabric shops, tacky tourists shops, fine arts and crafts galleries, paint and decorating stores, furniture, artists supplies and on and on and on. But... most of all... I find myself a central market. A wonderful, lovely farmers market complete with artful mounds of fruit, vegitables, meats, fish... anything I might desire. If I only had a kitchen. We grab some fruit for breakfast and try to imagine the possibilities.
PV is a resort. Yes... but this part, the old town, it is real. It has real life in it. I see so much here of what I seek. She is a whitch, this PV, her spell beginning to slowly seep into our conciousness. A little more dis-armed... no charmed, at each turn of the block.
Playa was easy. It just washed right over you from the first. But Puerto... Puerto would be different. She would make you work for her rewards. With pleasure Madame!!
So many peoples, Mexican and Gringo having built a life here side by side. Rich, poor and those in the middle... it seems to work! The Gringoes, U.S. and Canadians, they've been comming here for decades, because... well... it's warm and sunny here, and... it aint back there. The Mexicans, they're here because of the Gringoes. Many work in service or in those mom and pop stores that service the community. But we... the Gringoes, are the natural resource. Oh yes... and the sun. But... as I said... it works! There's a seemingly wonderful co-existance going on here.
About the beach... well, it still sorta sucks. Just not as bad as maybe as we first thought. Seems our first day on the beach, near our hotel, a beachside cafe, a bucket of cold beers, 6 for US$10, not so much beach, steep shelf and... and, 10, 12 even 15 foot breakers. No, I'm not kiddin'. Good God, I've never seen waves this big. It was deafening. You could feel the relentless pounding as your toes dug into the warm sand. I don't mind admitting, it was a little intimidating. Mind you there were teenagers out there boogie-boardin' on these things. Well they would now, wouldn't they? We would later learn that we couldn't have picked a worst time and spot. It was the full moon with the moon closest to the earth with subsequently the highest tides of the season. There was a strong wind offshore whipping things up and the geography of this particular stretch of beach made the breakers all the worse.
Well that's all good to know, now isn't it?
We would find better beaches, both here and in nearby communities, but more on that later.
Oh... and... there's one more thing I forgot to mention. The Malecon (boardwalk/promenade). Take a particularly hideous stretch of beach right in the middle of town, pave it with 2.5 miles of brick/cobles. Add some resturants and cafes. And... how about throw in over two dozen contemporary bronze sculpture along this 2.5 mile stretch. And on evenings, particularly weekends, add food vendors, strolling locals, street performers and live music. Belive me, this town loves its arts, and nowhere does it show more than here on the Malecon.
Awesome!!!

Ok, so about now you're probably feelin' a little overwhelmed by all of this, right? Well how the hell do you think we felt? All of this in just a couple of days.
Whew!!!

So, I'll be back soon. And... we'll share some of our most memorable experiences here in PV with you. But right now... I gotta crash.

KC

Slap!!!

If you choose to travel much in life, there are going to be those times when "shit happens" No matter how well you've planned beforehand, no matter how skilled a traveler you may be... it happens, and it literally can knock the wind right out of your sails.
You see on the internet what you are meant to see. Reviews are not foolproof. Guidebooks and shows offer the authors experiences. All that you know and your predispositions can get in the way. Even your state of mind at the time, all, all can conspire against you and your enjoyment of the experience.
The real challenge here is how do you react. Do you stay miserable or leave all together? Suck it up and go with the flow? Or, do you think on your feet and "make it better". I have at one time or another found myself in each of these options.
Leaving Playa del Carmen, Sandy and I were both on an emotional high. It was easy to enjoy and we had enjoyed our time there immensely.
The flight to Puerto Vallarta via Mexico City had been uneventful, really quite pleasant. "second world airline"? Felt more professional and friendly than many of my "first world" flights to and from Europe.
Now, right off the bat. One thing I do not like at all is to arrive at a new destination after dark. It is very disorienting to me. Even the most beautiful and approachable city can often appear not so if you arrive in the dark.
Upon arrival at my intended hotel, the venerable but well located Playa los Arcos, I find myself with what can only be described as the "last room in the hotel". It was awful. I had booked a couple of months beforehand, confirmed, and it was not at all what I expected. It's late, we're tired and we're hungry. I think that Sandy would agree, at that moment we both felt like flat tires. A bite to eat, good nights sleep. I would fix it all tomorrow.
Good meal, horrible nights sleep, incident with stopped toilet, rip-off breakfast at hotel's beach side resturant and finally the himming and hawing over the availability of another room.
That's it!!! Time to take this bull by the horns. I never travel without copies of the crucial pages of my travel guides and my search info was bookmarked on my netbook. First order of business this morning, find a decent place to stay!
On the ground, everything is always different from the filtered view you receive from the internet, books, shows or even other people that you may know.
I have to stress at this point, your experience is going to be unique. Affected by all of the variables earlier mentioned and may not even be the same if you've been there before.
Well, first. Finding another place to stay would not be hard at all. An on the ground look at 3 nearby possibilities and we net a gem, the Hotel Eloisa. One block from the surf, a small family managed "Mexican style" hotel built around a central courtyard with a welcoming rooftop terrace with pool. A studio room with kitchenette, continental breakfast and... all for a lot less than the original room.
Perfect!! Feeling better already!
During our look around that morning, the contrast to Playa del Carmen is glaring. Firstly there's the beach. Well.... it sorta sucks. And the town, it's streets, it's a little overwhelming. PDC had been a slow down laid back little resort town. Puerto was bigger, older and with much hustle-bustle.
I have to say, it was a jarring experience for the two of us. There were second thoughts at this point, no doubt about it. Why did we leave Playa del Carmen?
But... wait just a minute. I.. and I think she, knew that things were going to be different here. After all, isn't that why we came here in the first place? I knew it was big and that it was old. Hadn't I placed us right in the heart of old town? And..
we both knew that the Pacific is not the Carribean. And... we have plenty of time before us to explore this new experience. I mean, so many people have come here for years for the Puerto Vallarta experience.
Just "shake-off" the recent unpleasantness and do what we do best.
Open our minds, explore and "live" what Puerto Vallarta has to offer. Seek it's "sense of place".
I know it's here, we're just momentarily distracted.

Day 1.....

To be continued.....

Parting Thoughts......Playa del Carmen

El Fogon,
Of all the culinary treasures I've "sniffed-out" these past few weeks, one merits special praise. El Fogon, a little neighborhood family place with meats done in the traditional Mexican style, al carbon (over charcoal). Tacos, burritos, tostadas, etc. But the stand-out here has to be the arrecherro especiale plate. A skirt steak, marinated in something unbelivable, sliced extra thin across the grain and carmelized to perfection on a charcoal grille. Served up with the best little cup of "bean soup" I've ever eaten, char-grilled oversized scallions, gucamole, tortillas and all the salsas and fixins. Absolutely awesome, way under US$20 with two cervesas, and, get this, I'm not really much of a beef man!

Boobs vs. Bums,
It's no secret that I absolutely adore the female figure. I count myself lucky to have a wife who indulges me this vice, with, one or two conditions. Look but don't touch, remember who you came to the party with and mostly don't forget who's in the seat next to you.
So...I don't, I do and I never ever forget to adore her lovely figure in the seat next to me.
Now. About all those female figures. Nowhere do I enjoy them more than on a beach. And.. nowhere do I enjoy them more than on a beach where tops are considered optional. With a few exceptions, this is not such a beach. The Mexican culture would view a woman doffing her top as being immodest. Wonderful culture, but,can't buy into that one.
However.... however, the local senoritas have found a very "clever" way around this "immodesty". First, the tops themselves,
they're teeny, really teeny and cover very little. But, the best part of their "cleverness" has got to be their fondness for the Brazillian thong, an absolutely brilliant fashion statement. Both butt cheeks are completely exposed with a tiny strip (often not visible) up the middle.
Amazing!! Need I say more. Can't show your boobs but you can let your whole bum hang out.
God, I love the modesty of this culture!!

Jaques' Place,
Met the couple above us last night at the Luna Blue and again at a little Lebanese Cafe down the street. They, from Canada, of course (more on that later) come here often and usually rent a condo up the street. It was, however, occupied this time. The owner, some TV chef, on PBS, they figured I'd probably never heard of him, was in town.
Imagine that! I could cook in Jaques Pepin's kitchen. Wow!!

A Fond Farewell,
Last night, some of the staff at Mamitas wanted to stop by the bar at Luna Blue, seems they know Jorge, our barman (everyone here seems to know everyone) Me, now fond of them and they I, will meet and say goodbye. See ya at 7. Promptly at 8, "Mexican Time", they show up. Jorge has set-up a special table and I, unknown to them, have set a tab, limited of course!
It was a little awkward at first but I broke the ice by taking their orders and bringing the first round. Our usual roles reversed. Ice broken, and laughs around the table.
Language, always a barrier to good conversation abroad, would become even more apparent here. Jose explains that all of them speak "service English". Beyond their trade, they easily get lost. Jose's ultra-charming girlfriend, Ingrid. spoke wonderful English and would frequently pitch in as our interpreter. He is a very lucky young man. Each of our guest expressed a singular desire to better their English as they viewed this as the best way to improve their economic futures.
I started the conversation by going around the table and asking each of them where they were from, for how long and why they were here. All were in their mid 20's - 30's. One had a wife and was eager to begin a family. All had come here for the same reason, economic opportunity. Some had been here a year, some as long as 10-11 years. Some hoped for families of their own, a house perhaps. All were optimistic of their chances here, seemed to be happy and proudly Mexican.
It was refreshing. I felt their enthusiasm, their optimism, their youth.
And... perhaps, a little deja-vous. Sandy and I too had left our childhood home some 30 odd years ago, wide eyed with youthful optimism to seek a better opportunity for ourselves. At that moment, I think I just may have understood a little better, their lives.
Night grows late and amazingly the tab has grown to within $2 of the $100 limit I had set. Now, is that a coincidence or what? But, no worry, all had a good time. Why? You know, all I can figure is there was this sense of curiousity on both sides.
As I paid my tab, Jorge, usually a man of few words, says, Seenor Keveen, yoou deed a reely good theeng tonight.
" Jorge,I got as good as I gave"
Buena noche Senor Jorge.
Buena noche Senor Keveen.

Could This Be The One?
You all know I'm on a quest to find "eternal spring". This place certianly has an awesome beach, even without the bare boobs. The walking is sublime and the food is entirely to my liking. It is a bit touristy, but the "tourist traps" are easily enough to avoid if you choose to. I do not find that market that I will always seek, but there are options. I mean if Jaques can do it so can I.
Affordable rentals abound and it is relatively cheap and easy to get here.
Most of all the Mexican people are so welcoming and friendly.
Good possibility?
Maybe.....but....
Puerto Vallarta awaits!