Casitas Maraika

I don’t often reference past blog posts, but in this case it is necessary.  If you read Travelers not Tourists (and I strongly suggest you do), you read my recommendation to venture further than Cancun and Puerto Vallarta.  I have a slight correction to this…  If you are in need of a spectacular beach vacation, venture just a couple of kilometers south of PV to Boca de Tomatlan.  This is where we had a once in a lifetime weekend.

Earlier in the month I was eating sushi and telling the chef, Allen, that I wanted to have my last weekend at the beach and therefore we were headed to PV.  He then said, “Oh no.  I’m going to tell you where to go.”  He directed me to Casitas Maraika and after looking at the listings, I instantly booked it. Casitas Maraika Listing

We were told it was 4 hours, and Jon worked til 4, so we hoped to arrive at 8ish.  The windy mountain roads of Mexico offer spectacular views, but do nothing to help an ETA.  We didn’t pull into to this tiny waterfront town until after 10:00.  We knew we had to get a water taxi to the resort, and being northerners we thought this would be easy.  Yeah, no. 

Not a word of English in the convenience store or the tiny clothing store that we were lucky to find open for us at this hour.  But enough Spanish to express our dilemma:  we didn’t bring a boat, and we needed a ride.  The lovely senora yelled up to the apartment over her store to Javier a water taxi owner, who was up, but insisted he needed to call the hotel before taking us over there.  I thought this was silly.  We had a reservation, and I know they’re fully booked.  Just bring us there.  If there are any problems, I’m happy to pay a fee to be brought back to the mainland. He seemed to hesitate and then concede, and then told us to take off our jeans and shoes and put on shorts.  Sure, just to get in and out of the water taxi – right?

A little unnerving, but beautiful moonlit 5 minute boat ride took us off shore of our hotel.  He flashed his light towards shore, and whistled until someone acknowledged.  I just thought he was covering his bases before bringing his boat ashore for us to gingerly jump off.  Ummm no.  

They use the crashing waves OF THE PACIFIC OCEAN to time handing off your luggage to a hotel employee who is in the water and carrying your bags to shore.  They also use the waves to tell you when to get out of the boat.  As the waves are crashing, and there is no light, and Jon is hurling bags to a man, I am being yelled at in Spanish.  My language skills are not accustomed to these conditions.  And then I hear in English – “JUMP NOW, TINA!!!”  My eyes bulge, as I say, “Ahoritta?? (right now??)” “SI!!!!!” I throw myself over the side of the boat and jump in and I am helped to the shore as Jon immediately jumps in.  He’s up to his knees which means I’m up to my waist.  We’re officially at the beach.

It was at this moment, the service started and it didn’t stop.  Our bags were brought to our private casita, complete with private beach and hammocks, and chairs, and suspended bed, and driftwood sink, and conk shell showerhead.  Mango margaritas delivered moments later and candles lit to set the mood.  Gorgeous!

We woke up to breakfast being delivered to our private dining area, and another warm welcome from the staff.  We walked the beach and decided to spend some time secluded from the common area, restaurant, and shared beach.  

When we finally made our way we found lounge chairs, umbrellas, food and beverage services that didn’t stop, a yoga platform overlooking the ocean, a DJ spinning a beachside mix – paradise.  We swam, sunbathed, snorkeled, ate and drank.  Our beach music.

Each night the staff made a bonfire for us on our private beach and delivered our food and drinks to us.  The manager visited and shared a beer around the fire and talked about his life and adventures.  He mentioned to me that there are other spots accessible only by boat, and so I surprised Jon by booking a private boat to take us.

With our guide Alex we visited a waterfall, saw a whale, saw seals, ate lobster on the beach, and Jon got to snorkel in secluded areas.  While snorkeling, Jon entered a cave filled with thousands of bats.  He said it was awesome.  I’ll take his word for it. 

My final weekend in Mexico was extraordinary. I couldn’t be happier that I struck up a conversation in a sushi restaurant, and it threw me from a boat and onto a shore. 

 We wander for distraction, but we travel for fulfillment.

Hilaire Belloc

Travelers not Tourists

When we decided that our next trip would be to Mexico, safety was our first concern.  And why wouldn’t it be? The evening news, online feeds, Trip Advisor, and the State Dept. website all warn American citizens about the dangers around every corner here in MX. 

It was just the other day that the Mayor of Mexico City said he didn’t feel his children were safe here, and that the entire police department turned their backs on him while he spoke at a public event.  Police in one of the largest cities in Mexico are being targeted for killings after controversial rulings of cops killing citizens and being acquitted suggesting corruption in the cities system of law and order.  Who would visit a place where cops are killing people, people are killing cops, the government officials are afraid for their children, and the police and the government are accused of either being in cahoots or in direct conflict? This sounds like treacherous ground on which to tread. 

**Oh, after a bit of fact checking, I discovered these stories are not from Mexico City, but from New York City.  I will now check to see if tourism rates to NYC have fallen or if there are any warnings on the above mentioned feeds that travel to New York City and the surrounding areas is not recommended…

I am not saying that Mexico does not have its share of corruption or downright violent crime.  But once you come here, it boggles the mind how this is the only impression Americans have of this country.  Horrible things have been happening in the states and other 1^st world countries.  Ferguson in Missouri, unrest in NYC, terrorist attacks are far too common in France and other European nations.  But we don’t see those incidents as characteristic of the entire country or a fair representation of their people.  Why is it that we capture all of Mexico through this lens?

Let’s put some shoes on other feet, and change our perspective a little.  A Greek citizen calls his American friend to talk about a planned vacation.  He plans on visiting the Grand Canyon.  Well, planned.  He’s informing his friend that he’s cancelling the trip since he read about everything going on in Ferguson.  The American friend laughs and tells him the Grand Canyon is nowhere near Ferguson.  You’re fine.  And for that matter if you felt like visiting Missouri, you’d still be fine.  Go see the arch if you feel like it.  That issue is confined to the people involved in it. 

The United States has conflict and violent crime and really bad areas you shouldn't visit and quite frankly wouldn't visit unless you had a very specific reason.  Mexico is no different.  Actually, there aren't many countries or major cities that don’t fit that description.  And while I’m ranting about narrow perspectives, I find that most people have an antiquated view of what Mexico looks and feels like.  We imagine indigenous peoples with packs on their backs, barren desert land, and adobe sheds for shelter.  We imagine this because of the imagery we have seen in our sixth grade text books or old encyclopedias.  I equate this to looking at a Norman Rockwell painting and thinking all New Englanders still get around using a horse drawn carriages.  You’re looking at beautiful Folkloric pictures, and thinking that is still the way of life here.  It’s narrow.  

Of course, there are things that you will see “only in New England”, but we regard them as unique, special, and tradition.  We don’t consider them a mark of our 3^rd world status, desire to keep our heads in the sand, or lack of intelligence and progress.  They have charm and nostalgia.  It’s the same here.

Time for Tina to go to work for the National Board of Tourism here in Mexico.  This country and its people are beautiful and fun and interesting and steeped in tradition while moving forward with a work ethic a Fortune 500 CEO would envy.

I laugh as I observe “only in Mexico” things such as two week long street fairs.  Fireworks set off during the day to call people to church on holy days and Sundays.  A man walking through town with a wheelbarrow full of fish ready to cut your fillets as you like them and weigh out what you need for dinner. 

And then I have my breath taken away by the beauty in the countryside and in the major cities.  As we drive from place to place we are taken through mountains and into valleys and through national parks that rival the hills of Tuscany in their splendor.  Large ranches with horses and cows and sheep to our right and left.  We arrive in charming college towns like Guanajato that take us back to Quebec City, while bringing us into their own spirit with Mariacchi music and families exploring into all hours of the night.

Mazanillo had the weather of Hawaii with the hospitality and warmheartedness that can only be Latin America.  The beaches were beautiful and our hotel was perfect.

Morelia the capital city of Michoacan, said to be the most dangerous place in Mexico where no US citizen should tread; rivaled Milan with its hustle, bustle and beauty.  Centered around the church with artists and dancers and live music, we walked through cafes and watched street performers.  We dined on a 5 star meal overlooking the plaza, and regretted that we did not plan to stay longer.

I could go on and on as I have learned about the health care system, the educational system, the 6 day work week, and many of the other social aspects of this country.  I find a new culinary delight daily whether it is eating food from a street vendor, handmade gelato, dining in a small café with no menu, or at the best restaurants in Mexico’s major cities sipping lip licking tequila.  I resist buying every piece of exquisite jewelry, tapestry, dishware, and clothing I pass.  All made with meticulous detail and artistic flair.  I say I resist buying every piece – I've bought a lot! Because once again, everything here could not even be described as affordable; one cannot figure out how they are even able to make the items, afford a store front, and have a salary it’s so inexpensive.

I don’t know why I feel such a strong impulse to tell you about how wonderful it is here.  It’s my sense of justice, I suppose. These people and their beautiful country deserve a chance to settle into your heart.  Quite honestly they deserve a chance to earn your tourism dollars, and to grow as a major contributor in the world economy.  They’re putting their nose to the grindstone every day with a smile on their face and love in their hearts, ready to welcome everyone into the place they call home. 

So there you have it – it’s time to plan a trip to Mexico. And don’t tell me you’re headed to Cancun or Puerto Vallerta! Yes, those places are gorgeous, but Mexico is not only a resort.  Be sure to explore the countryside, the coast, the mountains.  Talk to the people here, eat their food, listen to their stories.   You will get an earful on where to visit that will have you discovering what truly makes this country and its people so special.  Be a traveler, not a tourist.  And when you get here - tell them Tina sent you.

If you wish to travel far and fast, travel light. 

Take off all your envies, jealousies, unforgiveness, selfishness and fears.

Cesare Pavese

Jocotepec

There is much to see and do in Mexico.  Sometimes it requires a bus trip or rental car or even a flight, and other times you just head a couple of clicks down the carreterra (freeway). 

I do not typically give specific dates in my blogs, but in this case, it is relevant.  It was Saturday, January 10th.  The Pats were playing my old friends the Ravens.  It was a late afternoon game, so we made a plan to explore our neighboring town during the day and find a satellite TV in the afternoon.

Jocotepec is similar to Ajijic that it is a lakeside town with windy roads, shops, and restaurants. I continue to marvel at the beautiful colors and the people here.  Although I will never tire of exploring this countryside wide eyed and enchanted, it did feel like we would spend the afternoon killing time until the big game. 

I could not have been more wrong.

Jon noticed cowboys on horses all heading in the same direction. Being Jon, he insisted we find out where they were going.  We walked until we were surrounded by Mexican cowboys and a few cowgirls of various ages, the police, and a traveling Mariachi band.  Sticking out like sore thumbs, a nice man who spoke English told us that there had already been a long ride, and now they were all going to head a little ways up the road to a ranch and drink and eat and hang out and that we should come along.  Well, alrighty then! 

It was at this point, that he asked me if I wanted to ride the horse.  He assured me that it is a good horse and I have nothing to be afraid of.  I was delighted to take him for a short spin around the area - like a kid at the fairgrounds.  (I have ridden a horse, horses do not scare me, and this one was great.) 
I did my loop, and as I was heading towards Jon, and who we now know as Gill, they were yelling at me to "Get in the parade!! Keep riding!!"  I confirmed that they actually wanted me to get in this parade, and off I went.

This is David.  Throughout the parade I rode my own horse.
This pic was taken at the end. 
David still had to make his way home,
and didn't want to get off his horse.

Almost immediately, my guardian angel David pulled up along one side of me with his friend on my other side and began to adjust my stirrups.  Let me give you the full picture:  I have my jeans all cutie cuffed at the bottom with my barefoot running shoes and my Patriots baseball cap,.  Yah - which one of these is not like the other??  Also, they knew something I didn't.  The parade had not just ended, it had just begun.  I would spend the next two hours riding this horse!








This experience will forever be remembered on my Top Ten List of Lifetime Moments - IT WAS AWESOME.  We road for miles through ranches and on trails.  Over 80 cowboys and a couple of cowgirls.  So once again, I did not blend.  People were taking photos of me, asking how I knew to bring my horse today. Turns out they only do this a couple times a year, and I was there for it!  Throughout the parade, I had no idea where Jon or Gill were, but I knew Gill would eventually need his horse back. 

There were stops along the route for Tequila, which I refused the first couple of times and then David insisted it was part of the experience.  We also stopped so the band could play, and horses could dance.  Not mine, thankfully.  I must take a moment to mention that my sweet boy took such good care of me.  To this day I have no idea what the horse's name is (you'll learn why later), but we called him Amigo during the ride. 

 

Tina, Amigo, Gil, Jon

David spoke enough English and I spoke enough Spanish that we chatted the whole ride as he explained all the places on the route and we talked about his country and my home and how my mind was just completely blown by this experience.

After the ranches, the parade marches into town on the main street with everyone videotaping and photographing.  As we pulled into the main square, David waited with me until Jon and Gill found me.  At the start of the parade route, Jon and Gill had immediately jumped into the pick up of a police truck and rode the whole two hours right behind me. 

And now for the background on Gill that will clear up all the confusion.  Gil had just arrived in Jocotepec the night before.  He spent the evening catching up with his family over one two many libations. His brother informed him in the morning that he had a horse for him and told him where to head.  He really had no idea what was going on.  He was thrilled to have me take the horse, because he was in recovery! He spent the entire time in the back of the pick up asleep.  Lucky break for me.




After the photos and thank you's, Jon and I headed to San Juan Cosala.  This is a small area bordering the lake with hotels and large lakeside restaurants.  We found one that put on the game, and had an evening that lived up to our afternoon.  Margaritas, ceviche, sunset over the lake and mountains, Mexican music, and a nail biting Pats win over the Ravens.

OFFICIAL: Top Ten List of Lifetime Moments - That awesome day in Jocotepec.

Jon gets a test run!

 

 “We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and adventure.

There is no end to the adventures we can have

if only we seek them with our eyes open.” – Jawaharial Nehru

 

Tlaquepaque

Yes, it certainly looks like a mouthful! It's actually easy and fun to say: lahkee pahkee. 
Is it:
1) a Mayan Indian specialty dish
2) a microbrewery
3) a local line dance similar to the electric slide

NONE OF THE ABOVE (you saw that coming...)

Guadalajara is divided into burrows much like New York City.  Tlaquepaque is one of these burrows.  We took the comfy bus for the hour drive into the old bus station in Guadalajara.  From there, a taxi to the center of Tlaquepaque.  I had read that this area was the arts district, and we were not disappointed.

Per our usual, we ventured with an overnight bag and no reservations.  We were told that this was the high season so good luck finding a place to stay.  Couple this with the fact that most hotels and bed and breakfasts have absolutely no curb appeal, and I was worried and trepidatious about what our accommodations would be for the evening.  I learned they spare the curb appeal and save all of the wow factor for after you enter and experience the beautiful, colorful open courtyards.  I also forgot that my husband hides a horseshoe somewhere, because his luck never runs out.

I mentioned in an earlier post that discussing the price of goods and services would be a recurring theme in this blog, and no where is that more apparent than Tlaquepaque.  We shopped and shopped and shopped.  You would think that it was Material Girl Tina racking up the purchases.  You would be wrong.  Jon bought a leather jacket, new cowboy boots, and a sweater.  So we don't need to worry about Jon shopping for another 4 score and seven years. I bought new leather shoes, a hat (cuz I always need a new hat), and for the two of us a new overnight bag.  The leather goods are hand made and soft and exquisite and CHEAP! What we spent for all of that wouldn't have afforded the jacket in the states.

 

Tlaquepaque is the birthplace of mariachi.  We spent the evening in the open courtyards drinking tequila and listening to the music.  We watched as families with multiple generations ate tacos on the street and their children delighted in running around independently with a few pesos for toys and churros as needed.  The core of the Latino culture is family.  I don't think the American concept of a babysitter exists.  If you are having dinner in the town center at 10 pm in order to enjoy the music and the lights and the intoxication of the moment, your children are there with you.  They are playful, engaging, and unafraid; and it is awesome.

The next day we took a double decker bus back to Guadalajara and stayed on it for a tour of the city.  We thought we would spend the day exploring the city center which feels a lot like the hustle and bustle of Manhattan.  We didn't anticipate the physical weight of our purchases, and decided to head home.  Not to worry.  I've already realized a few items I still want, and I have already made plans for one more shopping spree...

 

 

 

 

 

 

“All the pathos and irony of leaving one’s youth behind

is thus implicit in every joyous moment of travel:

one knows that the first joy can never be recovered,

and the wise traveler learns not to repeat successes

but tries new places all the time.” – Paul Fussell

 

POST SCRIPT: As expected, I have become a Tlaquepaque regular with my favorite shops and taxi driver, Oscar.  I picked up stoneware plates, bowls, and mugs as well as new glassware to be enjoyed by guests of our Winter Palace in Maine.  I take the bus in to town, and at the end of my day Oscar arranges to meet me and load everything in the trunk of his taxi and drive me back to Ajijic.  On the drive, he teaches me Mexican Spanish; so I really know how to habla en Mexico! He plays American music on his CD player, and even gave me an Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas CD in Spanish to give to Bryce.  Have I mentioned that I LOVE this country?!?!

Guanajuato

We spend copious amounts of time where ever we travel, because we want enough time to move about and see varied places.  Some very friendly Gringos from Portland, OR, told us not to miss Guanajuato.  Who are we to disobey?

Take the one hour bus to Guadalajara, and then the 4 hour luxury bus to Guanajuato.  Long trip, but you're traveling extremely comfortably and the drive is very scenic countryside.  We arrived late Friday night to a friendly and helpful Dutch desk clerk, Derrick.  He circled all the places on the map that we needed to see, and since 9:00 pm in Latin America is the early bird special - we headed out the door. We got some dinner and a glimpse of the windy roads and charming courtyards.  We were excited for the day ahead.

Guanajuato is a college town, frequented more so by Mexican tourists than Europeans or Northerners.  Therefore, NOBODY speaks English, which is the whole point - right?!? It reminded us of a Mexican Quebec City.  Small streets with fantastic shops and restaurants. There are boutique hotels and residences with beautiful balconies.  Plazas with fountains and seating areas.  They even have a funicular!  That is a railway cart designed to travel up completely vertical inclines.  We did not take it.  Wait for it...  We hiked the windy, narrow steps all the way to the top to see the Pipila monument.  On our way down, we saw other crazy couples doing the same thing. Huffing and puffing with one pushing the other.  Buena suerte!

We hiked all over that town from one end of it to the other and back again.  We visited all the plazas.  All the monuments.  The University steps.  We did some shopping (fabulous new boots and lots of Dia de los Muertos items - love!). Then we went back to the hotel to freshen up.  The plan? Watch the American Football playoff game, and then hit the town, and party like rock stars all night long.

Part one: accomplished.  We found a restaurant with and indoor/outdoor set up.  Everyone was outdoor, but they had satellite TV and agreed to bring us food and drinks and put on the game!  Result of the game withstanding, it was great.  Then, we hit the streets. I picked up the grilled corn with parmesan and lime I had been craving  from a street vendor.  We walked the plaza in front of the Juarez Theatre to see bands of people following Mariachi performers and chanting, singing, and laughing.  All of it, I could not understand, but it looked like a blast.  Then we realized something: people who party like rock stars, do not hike from dawn til dusk.  They rise at dusk.  Urban hikers on the other hand, eat their street corn and go to bed.


We had a few hours before our bus back Sunday morning to sip coffee slowly, walk the quiet streets, and find El Callejon del Beso.  To read the full legend (I recommend you do, it's heartbreaking) click here: Mexico's Romeo and Juliet.  Two close balconies, two star crossed lovers who were not meant to be, and a tragic ending.  Visitors come to kiss in the alley like Romeo and Juliet.  Our kids know, we never pass up an opportunity for PDA.

“To move, to breathe, to fly, to float,
To gain all while you give,
To roam the roads of lands remote,
To travel is to live.”
― Hans Christian Andersen, The Fairy Tale of My Life: An Autobiography

New Year's Day

Let me tell you a story about a boy and a girl and trip to NYC.  They had known each other 4 months and were headed to NYC for a friend's 30th birthday party. Obviously this story takes place a long time ago in a galaxy far, far, away...  It was a party.  She wore 4 inch heels.  He apparently did not know about the fabulous NYC taxi system, and insisted, "We can walk.  It's only a couple of blocks."  This became the mantra of the night, and by the end of it, he was carrying her.  Yes, literally carrying her through the streets of NYC.  Even when her feet were swollen and blistered, he preferred to carry her than get a taxi. That's dedication - to what I am not sure.  The girl in the story learned two things that night: 1) always pack walking shoes, and 2) if you want a taxi, flag it yourself. He can walk if he feels like it!

Whenever Jon and I travel there is going to be hiking involved.  We have hiked the most advanced trail in Cinque Terre, Italy (while in recovery from a very late evening, I might add).  Yellowstone (fresh as daisies). And too many urban and suburban hikes to mention.  Unless you're writing a blog about Mexico! Then you mention them.  But first, the parade.

                 

                

It started years ago to soften animosities between two neighborhoods in Ajijic.  They would have a fun, outrageous parade with home made floats.  Now many neighborhoods enter their floats to be a part of the zaniness.  It travels a 4 block loop and heads to the malecon (boardwalk on the lake), where there are vendors and open spaces to BBQ, play soccer, walk, socialize, and generally hang out.  The parade is quick and cute and worth the watch if you're here.  We walked the malecon, and watched soccer while munching on homemade potato chips. 

                 

Good times, but I knew what was coming...

Jon had already researched the hike to Las Cruces.  We live in a valley surrounded by mountains.  Think hills to get anywhere.  We had this in Puerto Rico too.  I don't mind it, because it keeps me eating chips and salsa and drinking margaritas.  Apparently, that's not enough for Jon.  He needs completely vertical trails.  Gravely, dusty, slip and fall down a mountain trails.  I was ready for it.  We had water.  I had good shoes and appropriate clothes, and off we went. 

There are two noteworthy points on the trail: Las Cruces and the Chapel.  I made it a little beyond the Chapel, because we are a mile above sea level, I am 5 feet tall, and I was done! Jon trekked on.  He did not make it all the way to Las Cruces.  Instead he found a treacherous ledge for me to stand on in front of a CACTUS (great place to fall), so he could take a pic. 

The views are awesome, but the hike is no joke.  It is slippery.  It is vertical.  It is hugging the mountain.  And if you're up to it, it's worth it. 

“Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.” – Mark Jenkins

 

 

 

 

POST SCRIPT:

NOTE: as I sat home and wrote, Jon attempted the hike to the summit. I am happy to report: VICTORY!

He fell, skinned his leg, wounded his hand,

and got a little lost on the way back. 

But he made it!!