Puerto Vallarta

Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco - February 19-21

It was with some regrets that we left Guayabitos, where we had made some new friends and the site of our "second wedding", but we feel the pull southward and the need for a Walmart run. Guayabitos is fine for day to day needs (Doritos and beer and cocadas) but there are a few requirements which only a bigger centre can provide.

There is not the same sense of anticipation, as we feel  that Puerto Vallarta is, for us, terra cognita. At least we are going with the assurance of having our spot reserved by our Inglewood neighbours, Stan and Marion, who snowbird in Mexico for almost 6 months per year.

We started by completing one of the much-anticipated stops that highlights every trip to Mexico to date- the roballo burrito at Tacon de Marlin. An unplanned tour of the airport parking lot finally led to a parking spot up the street from our favourite PV eatery. When we were done, however, we found that the iffy starts the van had been having all day had finally matured into a complete failure to ignite. We got the nice English-speaking folks at the car rental agency to leave a message for the local mechanics, who were out for siesta. It wasn't as bad as it seemed, as the time zone change worked in our favour and we only had to wait an hour before Chuy the mechanic appeared in his car and soon had the problem diagnosed as a faulty battery cable connector which had finally cracked right through. For M$400 ( $40)we had parts and labour to get us on our way.

Taking advantage of the Mexican big-city lifestyle, we had the complete car wash for M$80 to rid the van of all the grackle pooh we had gathered in our camp site under the trees in Guayabitos. And then, finally, having turned what should be a 1 1/2 trip into an all-day affair (which is becoming the norm in Mexico- an interesting experience in relativity) we arrived at the trailer park in downtown PV.

We were ushered to what was probably the last camping spot in PV- a spot so small, right beside the washrooms, that the next-door motor coach had to push in his mirrors to let us in. For the first time in Mexico, we found that we were in the minority. The park was full of Quebecois who had travelled in a caravan led by a tour guide to get them to Mexico together.

The first two days were spent in the air conditioned monotony of shopping, hitting all the evil multinationls- Costco, Walmart, et al. We took advantage of the superior cinema situation to go see "Yes, Man" with the boys, an extremely funny movie in any language.

Security in the park was never an issue, as the porcelain in the neighbouring washrooms is highly prized by the local gendarmerie. They visited a couple of times per day to catch up on their paperwork. Remy introduced himself and traded some patches, getting an issue PV police cap in return. The boys got to hold the machine gun for a photo. The police here earn about $8-9K (American $) per year. The police had a shootout in the main plaza last September with a drug gang armed with AK47s and hand grenades. One cop was killed by a hand grenade. Not sure it's worth what they get paid, but they laughed when I suggested they apply to CPS- "hace mucho fria" in Canada, no matter what the pay.

We did some good eating in PV at both ends of the spectrum. First night at Pepe's Tacos, second at a nearby pozole restaurant where they pulled the tables outside for the whole group from the trailer park to eat together. That represented the lower end of the food cost spectrum. Last night at Barrio Del Sur, the two of us went to a very nice courtyard restaurant in the Romantic Zone highly recommended by every gay man that we met, so we knew it was probably going to be all right.( the boys were snug in the campervan watching a movie knowing Stn and Marion weren't far away ) That was at the other end of the spectrum, by Mexican standards, but well worth it. We stuck around for the Carnaval parade, which is apparently what they call the gay pride event here- not a single one of the women was actually a woman. There must have been something in the air, as we took a piece of the Romantic Zone back with us.

We caught a day of the Mexican National Rodeo Championships which were happening over the weekend in nearby Pillitlal. The events were very different, as was the clothing, but the cowboys all walked with the same swagger that I am sure is common the world over. We were some of the very few gringoes there, so it was a very authentic Mexican event. Remy was particularly glad that we went- it really gives insight into how the Stampede started.

We met some cool hippie types on the last day in the trailer park, Hal and Elaine. They live full-time in a converted school bus in Santa Fe and were in PV so Hal could take a course in teaching English as a second language to take back with him to teach immigrants in New Mexico. They were the ones that we connected with in PV, too bad that we didn't meet them earlier. Since her two trips to New York City, Liz has discovered how much she loves a heavy Bronx Accent!

We found that PV has really grown, but it remains one of our favourite cities in Mexico. The Old Town, the art, the malecon all keep it vibrant and interesting. It was neat for us to drive into the city instead of flying in as we usually do, it really gave us a sense of how the area is developing and changing, particularly to the north. It was nice having Stan and Marion there as a knowledgeable resource and for moral support when the van broke down on us, as well. They were able to show us a part of the city into which we normally would not have ventured, and we are indebted to them for having found us some open ground on which to park!

-Remy

With this ring I thee wed....again

Rincon de Guayabitos, Niyarit

-The Tompkins Family weds-

The boys were most upset that Remy and I had opted to leave our wedding rings at home in Canada  while we travelled to Mexico. I was worried that we might lose them in the ocean or God forbid if we did get accosted by some bad guys looking for jewels then they might get stolen. 

Bowen became concerned about our status and somehow thought we would be less married if we didn't have the rings to prove it.

So... the plan was that we would purchase some inexpensive rings in Mexico, Hollis would perform the ceremony and Bowen would be the ring bearer/ flower boy. Remy and I have talked many times about renewing our vows and having a big party to celebrate our 20th anniversary (only 1.5 years to go for that!) but instead we decided to spend that money traveling - sorry all.

 The boys seemed keen on this idea and while we were on our train trip to  Creel, touring the Copper Canyon, we found the perfect rings . (We later ate at the restaurant owned by the same family.)

 The rings  are made of braided copper- perhaps locally mined?! and cost $12 pesos each ( about $1.10)  We are very sentimental about these rings already and really hope that they don't make our fingers too green as we'd love to keep wearing them after our travels here.

The beach in Guayabitos was the perfect setting for us to have our little ceremony as we love
it so much here and we have made a few friends who could witness and take photos for us. All the planning:  script writing, flower gathering, ice purchasing, dressing, marguerita making and invitations took a grand total of about 30 minutes! All weddings should be this carefree.

 The boys created the flower arrangement to which Remy tied the rings onto. We were worried that Bowen might accidently drop them in the sand.

  I picked a hibiscus for my hair from the plant growing just outside the corner store where I also bought ice for our drinks and refreshments for the boys. I love all this one stop shopping.

Remy wrote some beautiful words and Hollis did a great job of officiating. Jeff and Pam were our chosen guests who also took video and pictures for us . Five  minutes later we were all toasting to our good fortune and raising a glass with a our newest friends and our two boys by our sides. We stayed late on the beach that night laying in the warm sand and watching the sun go down on yet another day in paradise.

NEVER hike with a German

We had been apprised by our Inglewood neighbours, Stan and Marion, of an informal hiking group that went twice a week from Delia's campground in Guayabitos to Lo de Marcos. We were assured that the hike was spectacular, taking in jungle climbs over the mountains along with stretches along the beach. The group had a favourite restaurant in Lo de Marcos where lunch was had before taking a colectivo (Mexican bus/taxi) back to Guayabitos.

Liz took a bike ride to Delia's and met Lutz, the Teutonic hikenfuhrer, and had the four of us pencilled in to join the group for the Tuesday hike.

The launch time of 7:30 AM (to beat the heat of the day) meant an earlier-than-usual reveille for the boys, but Liz managed to have us all dressed, fed and on our bikes in time to make the short ride to Delia's. We arrived at 7:29 by Liz' watch, only to find that the group had already left the gate! While Remy locked up the bikes, Lutz ran out and whistled down Walter, one of the hikers (and another German), to wait for us and show us the way.

Now the boys were not in a mind space particularly well suited for the kind of effort that was before us. It was early, they had been force-fed breakfast and ( we are not sure why our blog has suddenly gone yellow and is underlined- oh well)only knew that they had 20 km and four hours of hiking ahead of them. Coupled with this was the fact that our guide was of the nationality that had invented the blitzkrieg and was obviously chafing at having landed the responsibility to guide us. Liz, as the family organizer of the event and the one that had negotiated with Lutz to include us on the trip, was placed in the unsavory position of feeling responsible to all. It was obvious that Bowen's 8 year-old legs were not suited to keeping up with Walter's blistering pace, and our desire to see the countryside and take the opportunity to look at butterflies was obviously at odds with the singleminded intensity with which he was covering ground. Remy had flashbacks to some of the forced marches he had had to do during basic training in the army. Walter was forced to wait on us as the route was not signed in any way and involved tracks through the jungle, walks through farmers' fields and, at one point, cutting through a construction site. Finally, Walter suggested a turn-off on the trail which meant shortening the hike considerably for us, which we gladly accepted. 

As Walter's dust settled gently on us, we were all able to relax and enjoy our surroundings- except, of course, our encounter with some terrifying cattle. OK, maybe not all of us were terrified, and the photo will indicate who was not frightened. The day was incredibly hot and we were all covered with a thick layer of the flour-like dust that constitutes the soil in this area. But the jungle was beautiful, as were the beaches we passed, some of which are sea turtle preserves.

We hiked over another mountain where we took the left turn off the path and travelled down to the little town of Monteon. We passed an adobe brick factory and found turtles in the streams. We were notable in Monteon, which does not see a lot of tourist traffic- OK, none- and sat down at a restaurant on the square to let the boys enjoy the bottles of Coke that we had promised/bribed them. When it came time to use the washroom, we discovered that one had to pass through the bed room of the family that ran the restaurant to use their bathroom, which was in need of a good cleaning and a toilet seat!

We fetched ourselves a colectivo from Monteon back to Guayabitos, which in itself is an interesting cultural experience. When we returned to Delia's to collect our bikes, we were told that the hiking group tries each weekend to beat their time from the weekend before! Not really the sightseeing mentality that we had. As well, Liz' competitive nature was challenged a couple of times by Walter, who intimated that we were not able to keep up. She wants to take him on in a head-to-head hike and show him who is in better shape! Of course, Bowen was not able to keep the pace, but considering his and his brother's ages, both boys still out-performed any one of their peers. We were both quite proud of them and quite enjoyed the hike with them.

When we returned to our campground, we found that our new acquaintances Jeff, Cindy and (another) Liz had returned from their fishing trip heavily laden with gold - dorado, that is. They had hooked three very large fish, the biggest of which was about 35 pounds and the other two not much smaller. They passed the word around the park and that evening, right behind our van, much of the population of the park gathered to partake of the fish which Jeff had grilled up. Another of the campers had negotiated with a family band of marimba players to come to the El Flamingo to play during dinner, for the princely sum of M$100 (about $10 in our coin). A hat was passed for tips after they had played for an hour, and they probably tripled their earnings! The fish was very tasty, too, and we heartily enjoyed our second party in a week.

-Remy

We have found our place

Rincon de Guayabitos, Niyarit

It turns out that Guayabitos is exactly what we have been looking for! We parked ourselves on the former patio of the hacienda that was long ago transformed into a trailer park. Because this spot is considered "overflow" we are far enough away from the side by side campers that we can leave our doors open at night and sleep with no shorts on!  We are surrounded by trees and assorted plants that provide tons of shade but those trees  are also home to the many varieties of birds that like to eat the berries from those trees!

Can you say "poop in your flip flops"?

We quickly learned to leave them under the van if we didn't want to wake to a surprise on our shoe.

The campground is a laid back sort of place and because it is so small only the smallest "rigs" can park here! We had only been parked for  few minutes when some fellow van campers came over to say hello. Marie's comment when she first saw the inside of our van was "wow, do you ever have a lot of ro0m in here!" That is so NOT true but it's all relative.

It was nice to receive such a warm welcome and we quickly made friends with a number of other people here too. 

Feb 14 - Valentines Day - a "rib cookoff" was planned. Someone else would do the cooking and all we had to do was bring a side dish! We were in. This was a great way to meet others in the campground and to share information  about other great places to travel in this diverse and fascinating country.

Plastic tables and chairs were "borrowed" from the hotel next door and everyone brought  their mismatched plates and cutlery. Some brought candles and others ate in the dark. Bowen and Remy were presented with the grand prize for winning the jungle bocce tournament earlier that afternoon and received a bottle of wine and a pirated copy of Beverly Hills Chihuahua.

The boys have had a hoot playing on the beach, boogie boarding, buying ice cream, sampling grilled fish and shrimp on a stick and begging us to make a purchase from the candy cart.

The ease with which we can hang out on the beach in Mexico is one of the things we love most. Eventually everything you could possible need (and loads of stuff you don't need) comes to you. We had been needing a large beach mat big enough for the 4 of us. That arrived one day too.

A Bucolic Drive to Guayabitos

Teacapan, Sinaloa to Rincon de Guayabitos, Nayarit

When I first saw references to Mexico  as the "United States of Mexico", I was surprised to think of the country in that way. My impressions of Mexico had been formed in much the same way that they are for many nortenos- short holidays in tourist resort towns and through Hollywood cliches. Having now travelled through three states, I am aware that they were formed as states for the same reasons that our provinces and the American states were- each has its own character defined by its geography, which in turn shapes its people.

As posted by Hollis, the trip out of Sinaloa state had its moments of excitement. I am glad that with our entry into Nayarit, we are once again in a land of frequent and useful highway signage. The freeway to Tepic was wonderful, if expensive (we would end up shelling out over $30 in cuotas before the day was through) and allowed "school" to happen early in the day.

Tepic, while a regional centre and, I am sure, quite useful for that reason, is not particularly inspiring. We dithered about for almost 2 hours, backtracking and getting lost trying to follow the directions in our camping book to the grocery nirvana that it promised, only to end up in a suburban grocery store that adequately suited our needs. More getting lost and backtracking to get back onto the freeway made for a hot and less than comfortable afternoon of urban Mexican driving after the freedom of the freeway.

But what a change as we left Tepic! The little town of Xalisco is a picturesque way to leave Tepic, shortly after which we left the freeway (which continues on to the huge urban sprawl of Guadalajara). We then encountered the essence of the state of Nayarit. Winding, two-laned roads serpentined through the hills, with the jungle doing its best to overgrow the roadway and in some spots, succeeding. The canopy of trees often meets over the road and in places branches brush the sides of the semi-trailers that crawl through these hills. "Crawl" is the operative word. When the road ahead is clear, the drive is an exhilarating time speeding though corners. But inevitably, one catches up to one of the many heavily-laden trucks distributing Coca Cola Corp.'s many products, or fresh vegetables, or bricks, or what-have-you, and the exhilaration is replaced by the boredom of following something you cannot see past along a road which, by its nature, does not allow passing. We ended up between two large trucks, of which the one in front had locked up the brakes of its second trailer and consequently we travelled a good distance enveloped in the cloud of asbestos-laden smoke which it was trailing behind it. Like all good things, this finally came to and end when I was once again able to pass.

Not all of the road was like this, though. In some places the jungle opened up to reveal views like those shown in the photos. Most of Mexico is one of two things- a garbage dump, where people are, or a Garden of Eden, where people are not (yet). But in many spots in Nayarit are beautiful vistas (one of the better words that English has borrowed from the Spanish) of rolling hills with bucolic little farms tucked away into the folds of the earth. I have learned to anticipate some elements of these pastoral scenes running suddenly up onto the roadway.

The beautiful drive, like all good things, came to an end in Rincon de Guayabitos, where we washed up at the El Flamingo trailer park. Located right on the beach, it promises to offer a lot of what we have been looking for on this trip- we'll see!

-Remy

The Wild Life and Death in Teacapan

   This was one of the sites to be seen as my dad, brother and I walked up the beach to find a body of a whale, according to our neighbors was there. This turtle was a mushy, stinky, rotting mess, but a really interesting thing. As we trudged on through the windy beach we came across such things as: a vulture skull, a pelican skull, a very tiny bird skull, whale vertebrae (although we found that there was no whale in site ) dolphin vertebrae and lots of manta ray corpses. On one walk my brother and I went on before hand, he got stung by a jellyfish, a bright blue jellyfish.

   I was minding our own business when suddenly my dad slams on the brakes ( I wasn't sure to be worried or not because my dad does this a lot ) I paused my Ipod only to see cows running at the van then quickly dodging it, and I hear my mother describe what may or may not be in her pants  at the moment. All in all this was a scary but humorous event where we learn that, when you see a sign that says cows ahead, slow down.

-Hollis

Teacapan- home and office

If you look carefully you can see our campervan looking quite forlorn on the street behind the villa we rented about 7km from Teacapan. It was an easy choice to make as the camping rate was $17/night vs the villa for $40/night including daily maid service! Besides, it was windy on the beach in the evening so it was nice to have some extra room to cook dinner and hang out together. The upper patio was a perfect place to hang our hammock.

Teacapan is a tiny fishing village at the end of an estuary.  We were hoping to see some crocodiles while we were here but so far have not had a sighting. We did find a dead giant  sea turtle though as well as many other interesting additions to our collection- pelican and vulture skulls, sandollars, dolphin vertebrae, whale bone, manta ray corpses and sandcrabs. We learned from our neighbors that a nest of sea turtles is about to hatch in the next 4-10 days. A group of do gooder campers are keeping a vigil over the nest to help fend off predators and help the little turtles get out to sea when they hatch.

 We  spent most of our time exploring the miles and miles of empty beach and palm groves on either side of this oasis called Villas Onac. The ocean here is a beautiful but  wild thing and because of that  we didn't feel comfortable having the boys swim in it . The rip tides are dangerous and we didn't see anyone else swimming so we stayed out too. Besides, the air cooled with the wind in the early afternoon so that would have made swimming uncomfortable.

I set up my office on the patio overlooking the pool and the ocean hoping to get some City Palate work done. Unfortunately the "free wifi" is the poorest we have experienced in all of Mexico so we'll pack up in the next few days and hope for something better further south.

 

  

Adios Mazatlan

We thought it was high time to send some good shots of us playing at the beach. What's a holiday after all without a little R&R?

 
Bowen is developing quite the football arm.

Remy- representing the rednecks (and arms and legs)

We aren't as white as we look.

Mazatlan- Officially in the tropics!

We pulled out of Las Glorias at our usually slow pace practically ready for lunch by the time we hit the road. A concerned fellow camper gave us the business card of a mechanic in Mazatlan so we can get the carburetor adjusted now that we are at sea level. Our poor van sputters and spits at low rpms searching for a better mix of gasoline and air.

I drove most of the way to Mazatlan as Remy was busy educating our children in the back seat. It felt weird to be driving to a place we regularly check airfares for when we are at 

home in Calgary.

Driving in Mexico has been surprisingly good. Most of the highways are two lane, divided and are in good repair. Other than the tremendous amount of roadkill, particularly large dogs, and the increasing amount of garbage in the ditches as we approach major towns, we find the driving quite pleasurable. The boys happily play Nintendo or listen to their ipods in the back while  we listen to our own music up front basking in the excitement of the next adventure that lies ahead.

Taco stands are easy to come by on the highway and at every toll booth ( there are many) we are offered an astonishing array of snacks. Everything from fruit and peanuts to dried shrimp and pastries. Groups of young people are often holding out a can collecting pesos for one charity or another. We figure with the high price of the tolls we pay here, over $25 from Las Glorias to Mazatlan, that's charity enough.

Mazatlan was a bit of a shock to our system. We have been happily spending our time in villages with populations of about 1,000 people or less and camping in some of the most beautiful locations. Mazatlan is home to over 800,000 people not to mention the scores of drunk sunburned tourists that call it home for a week at a time. The parking lots- I mean  campgrounds, were all full of gigantic motorhomes parked less than 6 feet from each other with a view of the gravel parking pad in the middle for the second vehicle they were all towing. UGH.

We drove a bit longer and found the California RV park which was situated at the far north end of the 10 km long Malecon , across the street from the mega store ( more coffee, no Blistex) and right beside the drive through Macdonalds. They had a vacancy at the quiet end of the park and for the $25 fee we had wifi, free laundry, hot showers and a "meeting place palapa"  We rented the spot for 6 days figuring if we can't beat em might as well join em.

Mazatlan is home to the worlds second highest lighthouse after Gibralter- who knew? We took the bus as close as we could then hiked up for 30 minutes or so to get a great view of the city and the bay below. We passed many Mexicans that use this as a place to work out and here we were just doing it for fun! After the hike the boys were "too tired" to carry on so we hired a pulmonia, a doorless, seatbeltless small taxi to take us for a tour of the winding, narrow streets of Ice Box Hill. Bowen jumped out for  quick photo - (see attached), you can see the lighthouse on top of the hill we climbed behind him, before the driver dropped us off in Olas Altus where we searched for dinner. Dinner is one of the best times of the day.

One of my favorite things  was riding our bicycles along the 10km Malecon to Olas Altus to watch the sunset. Along the way we stopped to watch the cliff divers that risked their lives for a few pesos from the horrified and then thrilled onlookers.

We parked ourselves at a popular seaside bar and dined on seafood while getting tipsy on very large margueritas. Hollis and Bowen had a major disagreement and before we knew it, Hollis was outside the restaurant talking to us through the wide open window about how much he "hated" his brother and was" going to find his own way back to Canada". Now under normal circumstances we might have gotten caught up in the drama but we were coping much better now we had some tequila in our systems (must drink more!)

I would sum up our visit to Mazatlan as an opportunity to stock up on supplies that we just can't get in smaller centers but for the most part it has been loud and full of drunk tourists that are packing in as much sun and drinking as possible in the span of their short 7 day break from the cold. It makes us wonder how much we will enjoy our usual "happy place" of Puerto Vallarta now that we have experienced so much of rural Mexico. 

I would be remiss if I didn't mention the fantastic food we had at Alejandros tacos located right near our RV park. For 4 of the 6 days we were in Mazatlan we paid them a visit. One of the workers took to shaking our hands when we arrived we had eaten there so many times! The "choriadas" were unlike anything we have eaten so far. The soft but crispy slightly thick tortilla type base is covered in cheese, cubed grilled beef and topped with a mild tomatoe sauce. The condiments on the table include 3 different  salsas, cilantro, minced onion, whole radishes, chopped green cabbage, grilled onions and rounds of cucumber. ( we called this salad for the boys and always ordered a second plate ) One was all I could stuff in and the cost was a mere $2. The dish included a sampling of the grilled meat and some onions with a bbq'd corn tortilla to munch on while our dinner was being prepared. The boys would order cheese quesadillas or beef tacos and the entire family could eat for $13! We often just bring our own beer or once even a gin and Tonic and they don't seem to care.

While Remy and I were out looking to mail a parcel home we discovered a movie theatre! Later that night we took the boys to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons. $14 bought us all admission and popcorn was a mere $2 for the large.  Unfortunately, this is the only movie playing that isn't dubbed over in Spanish or we would see one again the next night.

Saturday we were ready to leave town when I remembered the business card we were given for the reliable  mechanic who speaks a little English and could possibly help us with our van problem. Remy was hesitant to call at first but he relented when I reminded him of the stress we all feel each time we have to start the darn thing. In true Mexican style the mechanic came to us in the RV park! This created quite a stir amongst the other campers there who probably already  think we are nuts  traveling in such a small, old "rig",and with children. 

This mechanic had the problem diagnosed quite quickly but fixing it meant we had to spend one more night in Mazatlan. I took the boys to the beach for the day while Remy and the mechanic sorted out the issue in both Spanish and English. It wasn't such a bad thing as it meant we could eat one more choriada at Alejandros before leaving the next day! Oh, and for the house call, diagnosis, trip to get parts and the fix of our van the mechanic  charged us $70.

-Liz

 

 

Van extrication in El Fuerte

Our trip to the Copper Canyon complete, we finally had to face the prospect of getting out of our hotel. It had been a squeaker getting in, and proved to be even more so when making our egress. Liz stayed outside the van to record the event for posterity while rounding up some help loading the springs to reduce our profile. The fellow that had been doing some tile work for the hotel was directed by the owner to down his tools and jump onto the rear ladder while two or three other people shouted unintelligible directions at Remy. The roof box made contact with the wrought iron carriage way gate, but a light application to the gas pedal freed us! More help guided the van back out onto the roadway and we were away.

The road back to the freeway was a typical Mexican secondary road- sometimes newly paved, sometimes badly potholed, a new village every 3 or 4 km, complete with speed bumps that reduce speed constantly from 90 to 40 kmh. One is never far from food, with birria, grilled chickens and whatever local produce is in season available by the roadside.

The freeway took us through the food belt of Mexico (and likely a lot of North America). Endless fields of corn, beans and other vegetables, proudly bearing the names of their chemical sponsors- Monsanto, Chimiqua, et al. We saw countless small airplanes, droning back and forth across the fields, dropping their payloads of herbi- and insecticides. Whether it was actual or merely psychosomatic, we experienced a significant tightening of the chest and could detect a haze on the horizon. The various production centres, labelled with the company names mentioned above, were fenced in like top-secret research centres. The industrialization of food, like all else, is an ugly thing.

Liz never imagined herself saying this, but the following words actually crossed her lips- "I LOVE WALMART!" We stopped in Guasave, the local centre, to stock up on supplies before we headed west to the coast. We found espresso, all kinds of it and Liz nearly did a jig! Real coffee of any kind has been impossible to find and here it was in all sorts of sizes and grinds. The only other thing we have been looking for and not able to find is Blistex. For those of you that know Liz well you can imagine the angst she is feeling as she gets closer and closer to the end of the tube she brought with her. Time to switch to Lobello.

The picture of the fellow with the fish was taken in the parking lot of the Walmart.  He was relentless in his attempt to sell us that thing which he had been holding in the hot sun for at least and hour.

 We find that the roads in Sinaloa are horribly marked. Directional signs are usually located right at the intersection where one needs to turn, if they are present at all. We navigated by gosh and by golly and finally found our way to Las Glorias. We have figured out that the camping guide that we have is seriously dated. We established ourselves at a campground on the beach and  quickly began to appreciate the double-edged nature of seaside camping.(the picture attached is the lovely spot we had for 2 nights. ) The wind blew cool every day, beginning at about 2 PM, and we were quickly acquainted with the current fashion amongst Mexicans at the beach- ceaselessly racing on noisy quads at high speeds/sound levels up and down the beach, often while performing cat walks with squealing women hanging on for dear life behind the driver. It looked like a hoot and if we would have been able to get our hands on one of these quads for ourselves we would have joined them! Things just got louder on the weekend, with the cap being the pickup that parked on the other side of the fence from us, blaring mariachi music while drunken Mexicans conversed at top volume until well after midnight- and that was Sunday night!  Much to the horror of Hollis, Liz approached  the group and asked them to please  turn it down as we were trying to sleep. They did as we asked but it didn't go OFF till well into the wee hours of the morning. We will be more discerning in the future.

-Remy