If It's Friday, It Must Be Tequila!

I had not seen Mordo in over 3 years. He looked good. Neurotic and as eccentric as ever, he grabbed the children’s grocery cart and proceeds to walk through the grocery as if he was the naked emperor. Who could not like this guy?

We were making a quick run to the grocery store to get some things for dinner, and because this was Mordo’s ‘party night’, or the one night a week he allows himself to go overboard. This is also Tonya’s first time to see him since last time we were here too. For them, they have a lot of catching up and gossiping to do. Me? I’ll eavesdrop and talk about music and stuff with him. I like him because he is a music freak, as well as an eccentric. That is always a good combination. That, and he is genuinely an affable fellow. Hey, it’s Friday night and Mordo’s just bought a bottle of tequila! Let’s go.

Mordo chose the pasta sauce. Tonya will be denied her fantastic cooking in order to accommodate Mordo. He wanted pasta, as well as some assorted snacks. He is self equipped, even bringing his own tequila glass (just in case Tonya was empty handed). He buys his own hot sauce and tells her, “I will need eggs and beans in the morning for my hangover”. He knows exactly what he wants and he knows how to get it.

As soon as we get home, he’s opened the tequila and is sharing with Tonya. He’s hungry, so he is already snacking on some Mexican version of ciabatta and Manchego cheese. The tales and trivia are flowing freely. He’s non-stop and ready to take on more. For some strange reason, he pulls out his phone and shows me some photos on it. It is a picture of Johnny Winter (playing a Les Paul?!). Then there is a Stones photo, followed by a Hendrix one. He smiles and puts his phone away.

Throughout the night he and Tonya will obviously reminisce about things they have experienced together and their longstanding friendship. Thankfully, Mordo speaks good English, and most of the details are in my mother tongue. I know he doesn’t resent me like he does his Canadian neighbor, John, who’s been here 7 years and never utters a word of Spanish. I promise Mordo I will learn and not to be a bad Canadian.

The tequila list (*note awesome Paul Weller  keychain)

Mordo is determined to finish off his tequila. He is in for the long haul, and explains why he allows himself one night a week, to indulge. He tells me straight off, “I am going to help you learn about tequilas. I will make you a list of some of the best ones. You can try them as you wish”. He does. He sits down and scrawls on a legal pad starting with his favorite. He goes into detail of why he likes the different ones, what is trendy and why the coloring is different and how they dilute tequilas. It is quite interesting and it seems like he knows his stuff. I am sure I will put his list to use.

The bowls of pasta are laid out and Mordo has a request. He needs a napkin or a towel to hang in front, like a bib. He is particular. He stands and shows his plain, grey t-shirt. This is what he wants to protect, “These shirts are rare here in Mexico” he says while motioning at his plain grey shirt. He looks to Tonya, “You know, it is empty. All of the shirts you buy here have big prints on them” he says while Tonya nods in agreement. He is handed a blue dish towel and he is pleased with the amount of coverage. He can eat now.

As dinner is consumed, there are tales of how he was converted from a ‘progressive guy’ to a frequenter of discos. These were the heady days of Mexico City in the mid 70’s. “The disco guys were into Gloria Gaynor and stuff, I was progressive. I wore plain shirts, bell bottoms and had long hair. I was into Yes, Emerson Lake & Palmer…”he rapid fires without a pause. “Tonya changed me of that. I remember the first night I went. She would not let me go out looking like a progressive, I had to dress ‘nice’” and he tells of his conversion form night on. Oh yes, wild times, car wrecks, cop beatings and the general decay of friendships and people due to the ominous white powder which took over the scene.

Mordo went to high school in Kansas. It was there he saw a headlining show of Elton John with the openers Three Dog Night and T.Rex. His cousin was madly in love with Marc Bolan and took him to the show to specifically see Bolan. “She just loved him. He had that blue hair, you know?” he tells a very fascinating story of the time he saw Bolan. He is full of passion and his hands are flying all over the place as he acts like his cousin screaming, groping him, crying at the sight of Marc Bolan. “It was great, very great” he says smiling. It was 1975 and he was a very young man. What a way to see T.Rex…in Kansas!

Dash suffers for ethnic entertainment.

Mordo is Jewish, or as the Mexicans call one another of the faith, “paisano”. A Mexican Jew. His tales of being a teen in America and facing the dreaded fears of every white parent in the Midwest that their daughter is dating a Mexican Jew, whew! It is fascinating though, that he went to a Hebrew school and learned the language at a young age. It is very interesting to hear his take and stories on his faith, his heritage and the life in Mexico during the 70’s and the emergence of punk rock. Almost every tale is tied to an album or a certain episode between friends that eh and Tonya share.

“I cannot listen to certain albums, because they are too sentimental to me” he confesses. He smiles and asks Tonya of a specific time they sat with friends and listened to Al Stewart’s “Year of the Cat” album, over and over. ‘Tonya…you loved that record. Do you remember that night?” They both smile and recall the evening. It must be nice for them. I get all warm seeing them smile, and their eyes light up when they recall all their escapades and catch up on the latest happening with their friends. So and so is making very good money now. So and so died. She is on her fifth husband. He is so fat now.

Facebook comes up again and again during these talks. Mordo seems to be very fascinated by this hellish invention.

It should be a given, that he would ask what I thought about Obama. “I don’t know why, but I like him” he admits. Of course, he says, he leans right in his own country and in most concerns, “…but it is odd, when it comes to America, I am very liberal!” he laughs. He immigration issue is discussed, and much to my surprise Mordo shakes his head and says, “Americans. They don’t get it. They should do something about the immigration problem, because it is a problem!” He laughs at how people turn it into a ‘race’ issue “It is not racist. It is a real problem. It has nothing to with race. It is your country! You have your borders, you must protect them. There are laws!” I could not agree more, and more shocking is when almost in unison he chimes in when I start to say how truly racist Mexicans are. He laughs, shakes his head, “I know. We are so racist! Mexicans are horrible.” If only people could see what goes on on this side of border. He and Tonya talk of times out when even their friends were denied entry to bars and clubs because they were too ‘dark’, or from the wrong part of Latin America. La Raza, que bueno! Oh land of ‘hope and change’, you have no clue.

“Keith Richards has a fantastic philosophy”, Mordo says. “He is great. You should really watch his interviews on YouTube”. Tonya starts to laugh and tells a story of how as teens, Mordo had loads of pics of Mick Jagger, “he would always show me these photos and ask ‘Tonya, don’t you like him? Isn’t he good looking…” she says laughing. Mordo laughs too, and holds his hand out as if he is showing a photo. “I loved these photos. They were great. He looked great, no?” he asks without shame “It was around the Beggar’s Banquet period. He looked so great…”

I don’t quite get the combo Mordo is consuming. Loads of tequila, coffee and water. It is almost as if he is shuffling the cups with the hidden peanut beneath. He can’t understand why at midnight, we are not all doing the same. “You should have some coffee too, it is great!”

This guy is truly a night out. He is very well versed in so many things. He loves music. He can speak Hebrew and talk of the Russian girl he met while in Israel in the early 90s. Books, poets, drug riddled towns in Mexico, real estate, The Cure, the war, the revolution, the oil spill…it goes on and on. He really tells a great story of Ocotlan, the family’s maid. She could make the most amazing quesadillas. “People would come to my mother all the time, and ask to get Ocotlan’s food. They would offer to pay her higher wages and have them cook for them” he says. “But my mother, she would tell them to get lost. She works for me, I pay her”. Her name was Sarah, but when she was first hired, she told them to call her Ocotlan, because that is the village she was from. “Yes, there are several Ocotlans in Mexico. We never knew where she was from and where she went. We do not even know what her real name was” Tonya asks why she vanished so quickly. “We don’t know. Her husband killed someone” Mordo says, “…but it was in self defense” he adds while raising his eyebrows. “In Mexico self-defense is not self-defense, it is just what you say when you kill someone. We don’t know what happened; she just went back to whatever Ocotlan she came from”.

Tonya wants recipes, and asks Mordo to ask her mom how she made certain dishes. He laughs “No one knows! It is bad. Even my mother taught her dishes from Turkey and Ocotlan would make them better than my mother. Everything she touched was fantastic” he says. They both laugh as they discuss a bean dish she was ‘famous’ for. Mordo rolls his eyes as if in ecstasy.

There is quite a bit of time spent talking about food and maids who cook. Mordo tells of another amazing story of one of his aunts from the ‘home land’ of Turkey. She was one of 8 sisters brought here and her name was Fortuna. She had brought amazing and unheard of recipes from home. The Mexicans went nuts for her, the transplanted Turks even more so. Her specialty was a whipped and crystallized sweet made from sugar, lemons and water. “It was crunchy and hard, but when you bit into it, it was so lovely and floral. It would just dissolve and melt into this wonderful thing” Mordo says. He tells of one night after she had passed, that his uncle announced at a family function ‘If anyone can make Fortuna’s famous dish the way she did, I will pay you $1000!’ “Man, we were all at home in the kitchen trying our hardest. We all wanted the money!” he laughs “But no one could do it! No one knew the recipe and no one could reproduce it” He moves his hands as if stirring, and insists that the secret was how high the flame was and exactly how many times and at what rate you stirred the sugary mixture. “Many people would ask her for her recipes, but she would refuse. Even in our family, people would ask and she would say that what she cooked was hers, and she would take it all to the grave with her…and she did! She died and told no one how to cook anything that she had made” He says to this day, everyone who knew Fortuna talks about her food and how they would pay enormous sums of money just to have one of her dishes again.

“Don’t you think Tonya has powerful hands? Look at them, they are wonderful” he says all of a sudden, while taking a short break from story telling. “You can tell a lot about a person form their hands” he says and grabs Tonya’s hands. They laugh and compare hands. He is fascinated by her hands, and tells her that that was one of the first things he noticed when he had met her. Tonya is a bit shy about the compliment. He looks at me and asks, “Really. What if you met a beautiful woman and she had short, stubby fingers. Would you go out with her? Would you talk to her?” and he shakes his head and wrinkles his nose. “No. You wouldn’t, because she has ugly hands” he answers for me. We laugh at the odd observation, but it is true. Short, fat stubby hands and weird feet are a sure turn off. (Hand freaks take note)

That is a giant tortilla

It’s very late and raining. It has been raining almost all day. There is a noise in the kitchen and the conversation stops as we all turn to look. It is Maria Antonia. She has retuned from a trip back to her home in Vera Cruz. She is giggling, and there is another giggle too. She is dripping with rain and wrestling with her luggage and what looks like a huge pizza, wrapped in towels. Her sister is with her; she is younger and is quite shy. She has a little pot belly poking out from underneath her ill fitting t-shirt. Maria Antonio his ribbing her about her weight and tells Tonya, “She ate three tortas on the way here. Three…”. They giggle and take their luggage to her room. We hear them a few minutes later giggling in the kitchen as they cook a midnight snack. Mordo asks who she is and gets the rundown from Tonya. “She is cute” he says. A few minutes later the sisters walk to Maria’s room holding hands and giggling, with the younger sister hiding behind the other, ‘Buenos noches senora’ they say as they shyly duck out to her room.

We carry on and Mordo carries on his juggling coffee, tequila and water. Tonya cannot believe that Mordo has drunk as much as he has. He is not a bad drunk, but Tonya had warned how he may get very inquisitive and philosophical. Not really. Thankfully, he does not want hugs and sheds no tears and doesn’t get macho. He just keeps going and keeps talking. As his bottle empties, Tonya’s eyelids sink lower and lower. Mine get redder and redder. We are not marathon boozers, and although we are completely enjoying his company (especially Tonya); we are running out of gas. He looks at Tonya and tells her it is because she is not taking the magical tequila/coffee mixture. “It is not late!” he says as he notices us hunching over under the burden of oncoming sleep, “get used to it. We are just starting. The night starts after 1 am here in Mexico City” and he looks at his watch, “It is only after 1:30. We just started!” We only make it about 45 minutes more and finally have to quit. It is bedtime. Mordo says he will stay up and watch some TV, and will finish his bottle.

Mordo's much cherished tequila bottle (not empty)

“My blanket. Will it smell like Dash?” he asks, referring to the dogs lying on the bed. We laugh and tell him no. “I put new sheets on your bed, and a fresh blanket” Tonya re-affirms to him. We exchange our night wishes and go off to bed. Mordo didn’t last too long. It hadn’t been an hour later before I hear him walk up the stairs and into his room. Sweet dreams.

Aliens

Perhaps Tonya is getting a little too comfortable with hopping in the car to jet out somewhere else.  These long trips are a drag, but at least one gets used to sitting in the car. “These hour long rides are nothing to us now” she brags to Alexandra.  I confirm, admitting that we can easily while away over an hour by getting lost on what should have been an easy 15 minute trip to the grocery store.  However, it is different today.  Tonya wants to go to Tepoztlan, so we will pile in and go see what there is to see.  According to Tonya, we are going for a ride, a walk around and get a bite to eat in the square.  “They have had UFO sightings there too” she adds.

It is an easy drive to Tepoztlan.  Barely an hour away and the scenery leaving the south of the city is much better than the north.  Yes, you still have the sprawl and filth, but it is hidden better by all the greenery and hills.  Maybe it was just another cloudy day, but the mist and clouds made for some amazing lighting and fantastic scenes.  It really seems like half the journey is a slow, gradual climb up, and then a quick twisty bit down and voila!  Destination reached.  According to Loulou, right after you go through the ‘pear’, you exit.  The ‘pear’ being the sharp turns.  I think I know what they mean now.

I have no idea what to expect, but as we begin our descent, the way the mountains are formed look great.  They look ancient!  They look like something Aztecs would live amongst.  The do look different than the mountains on the west coast and the ones I have seen in Europe.  These look Mexican!  These are what I want all the mountains here to look light.  Lush greens, sharp rises and rock formations and bold profiles.  I like looking at them.  “The big one, that is the Tepozteco.  You can climb it.  I think there are some ruins up there” Tonya tells us. 

wonder if aliens see it this way upon approach?

A few years ago a friend of Tonya’s informed us that Tepoztlan was dangerous.  They had a mutual friend who was partying with the wrong crowd, and ended up dead in a field.  Yes, the dope gang was causing havoc there.  Now though, it is supposed to be ok.  Tonya’s friend Veronica gave us the thumbs up.  I trust she was right, because it looks very charming and inviting.  It is the perfect place to hang out for an afternoon!

We wind through the town, and find a place to park right outside the main square.  The kid watching the makeshift parking lot tells us it is 10 pesos an hour and to leave our keys in the ignition.  I peel off all the keys but the car key, and leave it poking out of the ignition.  I refuse to leave my Paul Weller keychain with a shady makeshift parking lot attendant.

I am immediately amazed at all the crappy stalls lining the streets.  I mean, it is typical stuff for tourists, but there is an over abundance of tacky tie-dyed, loose fitting, Stevie Nicks style clothing up for grabs.  It is all that cheap-o made in India stuff.  Then I start seeing loads of metaphysical/new-agey posters on the street lights and walls.  I get it…this must be a mini Taos.  This is where the beardo-weirdo professors from Universities in Chicago and the West Coast buy their getaway homes.  This is the place where wandering crusties and alterna-types come to seek the wisdom of the ancients and perhaps catch a UFO sighting.  The shop blaring the Indian music and hocking karmic talismans is the clincher. 

Who wants to go to Mexico and buy cheap Indian stuff?  I mean, really, do you need to come all this way to buy tacky incense and a fake crystal or get a henna tattoo by some guy wearing sandals and a bad Bob Marley t-shirt?  I understand buying a cheap desktop souvenir of the local mountain, a pyramid or even shot glass that says ‘Mexico’…but a flowing tie-dyed shirt with an elephant motif or an ashtray with symbols left over from George Harrison’s dark Horse years is beyond me.  Yoga?  Here?  Shouldn’t these two ancient beliefs be clashing in places like this?  Why try to be at peace with the universe and “ommmm” when the local Mayans have said “you have two years left and it is all over buddy”.  This belongs in New Mexico, not Mexico.

Whatever.  I get cheap laughs at the new agers seeking their infinite wisdom and intelligent communications form aliens, but I am seeking food.  We wonder through the market, eyeing up boiling soups, raw chicken on stained wood tables and the matrons swatting at flies with shredded plastic trash bags.  It smells great, but the amount of flies and raw meat in the open kind of turn me off.  Outside, we get drawn to the girl selling corn.  Tonya orders for us.  We all get the same.  A freshly boiled ear of corn, rubbed with mayonnaise and then sprinkled with cheese and then sprinkled with some sort of pepper (more like paprika).  A wooden spike is shoved in an end, and then the gourmet piece is handed to us.  Yummy.  It tastes great.  We sit on a bench behind the corn girl and watch her dish up ear after ear to the folks who come up and want an alternative to raw, stinking chicken left out on stained wooden tables.

nice church

typical street with cheesey new-age shops

typical side street ( image lies about how steep it is!)

UFO's land somewhere up there!

We finish our corn and decide to take a walk around to get a closer look at the town.  I am already self conscious of all the corn stuck between my teeth, so I probably look like an uptight guy hastily walking through town.  We walk towards the mystic mountain, and the hippy shops grow more frequent.  I appreciate the change of pace by the podunk bar with people piled out in the street, watching the latest game of the World Cup.  I like this place.  The streets dip and climb as they branch off into the neighborhood.  The homes look small and quaint.  There is lush green surrounding you, and the locals look quite content to accept the freaks coming in for a visit and the oddballs teaching yoga.

looking over the rooftops...

After a lengthy stroll, there is a call for coffee.  We find a small coffee joint.  The two grey haired guys at the front send out a ‘locals only’ vibe.  They aren’t old timers, but more like old Peter Fonda-types…you know, probably a bit hippy and wild.  It smells good in here, like real coffee.  There is an old lady standing behind a small counter with fresh baked goods for sale.  She can’t fool me though, I spot the mini-cinnamon rolls that you can buy at Costco for $10.  Still, it adds a nice touch.  The girl behind the counter makes two Iced Chais for Tonya and Alexandra.  I choose to sit and look at the surroundings. 

You just can’t escape it!  On the bulletin board, above the shabby couch, are flyers for a house for rent in a nearby ‘eco-village’ and a home for rent, built in a circular style with assorted new age amenities.   It looks like an egg.    I roll my eyes and divert my attention back to the Peter Fonda twins at the front.

When the girlies are done with their drinks, we decide to move on.  We have guests coming over later, and need to get back home.  We are pleasantly surprised with filed trip.  As we get in the car, there is a volley of ‘what I liked’ about this place being bounced all around.  Tonya had made a fantastic suggestion and I am glad she took us there.  I like it a lot.  I am not a believer in new age rubbish or UFO visitations.  However, I am convinced that all the seekers there will never find what they are after.  If aliens were coming to visit, they at least have enough common sense to recognize that the true beauty of the town has now been diluted and distorted by all those clamoring to catch a glimpse of a celestial visit.  Why on earth would aliens want to come to such a pretty place to have some old, leathery skinned, gluten-free nutcase wearing tie-dyed shirts and henna tattoos want stare at them and ask for advice? 

i love this place!

I will not return for any hopes of a UFO or to get cheap head-shop gifts, but I will happily go back to stroll the rolling streets and stare at the lovely mountains with gobs of mayo-covered corn in my teeth.

The Zoo (Out With The Kid)

Alexandra came to visit again.  This time we were able to actually do some things, rather than be consumed with house matters and traipsing around town to tie up Mexican bureaucracy.  Two things were on the ‘to-do’ list, the Zoo and Mummies.

Now I heard so much about the Zoo from Tonya and Alexandra, that I had high hopes.  Contrary to the previous paragraph, we actually caught the Zoo after tying up Mexican bureaucracy.  Tonya wanted to see the pandas.  She talks about them like they were her best friends.  Not too sure what it was Alexandra wanted to see, she muttered something about gorillas and big cats.  There were posters advertising the Zoo’s amazing serpent exhibit…wow!  Who doesn’t like staring at vipers form behind glass?  Let’s do it!

Wait.  With Alexandra in tow we have to stop.  Some over dramatizing can mean one of two things.  Either she is having a nicotine fit (really…at such a young age?) or just wants to look tough smoking, OR she wants to eat.  It is the latter.  She wants McDonalds.  First thing in the zoo and we have to sit while a chicken sandwich is consumed.

Things had changed a bit at the Zoo.  I am new here, so I would have never noticed.  However, Tonya and Alexandra were discussing how this was different and that was gone.  We chose a path and started on it.  I suppose I should say I am not a kid anymore.  I love animals, but hanging out in a Zoo is not necessarily my idea of fun.  I don’t like smelling exotic pooh and hay mixed together in the heat of midday.  

Why is the water always dirty and odd colors?

What has happened to the animals where now there is just an empty lot or cubicle?

Wolves.  I do not recall seeing wolves at my local Zoo or any others I had been to.  The hippos sat with his head under water…boring.  Giraffes are always interesting, so are Ostriches…those are some odd creatures.  Alexandra made a comment about the ‘dogs’ in a zoo.  I see what she meant, an area with a few Mexican hairless dogs running around.  Even other tourists were muttering about why this was in need of showing off.  I agree. So what!  The white rhino was a bit of a treat.  He looked very ‘prehistoric’ for lack of a better term.  He had two horns, one normal and one looked like an overgrown tree trunk. Birds.  Hmmm…I see them everyday, and was not too impressed.  I was a bit intrigued by a polar bear in Mexico City.  That seems a bit odd.  I suppose one could argue that pandas are an odd accessory here too. True.

The serpent exhibit was lame.  We have a better one at home.  The posters made it look hair-raising and something to tell the grand kids about one day.  Same ol’ same ol’ though.

Penguins in Mexico seem out of place to me too.  However, I do understand there are more ‘tropical’ type penguins out there.  To my dismay, the penguins were nowhere to be seen.  Everyone just stood there staring at their blank and empty playground.  Following the steps below the exhibit made for a brief smile.  A kooky sea lion was doing its rounds underwater.  He was definitely acting for the tourists as he wove in and out of the tunnels and underwater archways. Each time he would pass in front of the glass viewing area, he would face the crowd, fold his flippers in front of him and pass by with a smug and confident look on his face.  It is funny how you can see animals’ expressions.

Now seeing the orangutans was interesting.  They were hamming it up for the folks.  One was holding a frayed bag on its head while staring at the onlookers and mimicking kids.  No matter what he did, he kept one hand on his head, holding the old bag. 

Leopards are cool.  There were a few on display here, and we are lucky enough to stare at one up close as he lies out on a log to relax.  Ooh, and some exotic black leopard too.  Man, they have huge paws.  Yes, graceful and wonderful creatures.  There are many ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhhs’ as people see the big cats so close.

I am not some bleeding heart who is against zoos and scream this is all animal cruelty.  I understand their purpose and appreciate their purpose.  I mean, c’mon, I am in Mexico City and I get to see a real live panda!  Think of the airfare and hotel costs it would have been to go all the way to China!  So, good for the Mexican kids who get to see apes with bags on their heads and hairless dogs and goofy grey birds.  I am glad to have seen some of these wondrous creatures, and can vouch that it is a better zoo than Warsaw’s.  Alexandra has to smoke…we gotta go!

Go To Church

Like most kids, the thought of going to a church is less than exciting , a monastery even more so. Alexandra was a perfect example. She is dragging around moaning about having to walk and typical kid stuff like “how far is it?” and other forms of bellyaching.   However, Tonya tells her we are gonna see the mummies, so she is up for a bit more walking…reluctantly.

It is amazing what you can find when you just poke around a bit. Tonya had told me of this church and always gets me confused with someone else, when she asks about my take on the mummies. I have never been here to this church before. I have never even noticed that it was closed for renovation! I have seen mummies before, but never Mexican ones and never here. I am fascinated by these old churches though, and their architecture is amazing. Tonya is jazzed that in spite of the drizzling weather that the church is open and we will get to finally see the mummies. We step inside and she asks if it is open. The ladies smile and reply, “Yes, please come in”

As soon as you walk in you can sense the history and the reverence. I am always amazed at how people have paid homage to God with their places of worship and art throughout our history. It is truly wonderful the lengths they go through to show respect and honor, especially to a being that so many says don’t exist. (Hmmm, how can a non-existent being inspire so much work and glories?) Ok, this is not my first old church or monastery, but it still is a beautiful one.

In the entry way

The entry way

This will be the first old church I have been in displaying old painting where the people speak in swirls though. Yes, the type stuff you see in art history books, I think this is the first time I have seen this ancient swirl speak in real life. I love it! Each painting with this language being spoken I could sit and stare at it for hours. I also love the way people looked back then. At least the way the painters painted them to look. Every one is so pensive, or dramatic, or glowing. Seems like a lot of people glowed a lot back then.

the famous 'swirly speak' (or upside down speak in this case)

I wonder what went on on all the stones lining the walkways of this place. It blows my mind to think of the lives and history that have helped to gloss the old stones over with wear and tear. I am in awe of the presence of history. Church or not, I find myself being reverent to all the lives that have been before me and the countless stories that stem from them all. So much has gone on before us…it is really breath taking if you think about it. So what, you have an iPhone. Think about what these people saw!

This is also the first time I have seen these monk’s quarters so close. Historic people are small. I have to hunch over to peer into the small chambers and look at their cramped tiny beds and cold stone floors. No closet space. Where did they keep their clothes? No lights. No electricity. No Facebook. Just simple wooden stands to sit and read your bible or write fancy writing with over the top calligraphy. These rooms are meant for studying and reading, and when that makes you tired, you lay on your tiny bed and sleep.

peering in to a monk's room

they wrote BIG music too!

These Monks had some nice sinks to rinse in, amazingly done in blue and white tiles.  So ornate and so tedious.  The courtyards are beautiful too.

in the back court yard

So, as we are walking around taking all this in, we stop for a second to ask the smiling old guard for directions. Tonya asks him if the mummies are still here and where they are. He happily obliges, and then dispels some lore to her in a lower tone. He is the only guy we have seen up here, but eh still speaks to Tonya as if he is telling her something that could cost his life. It turns out, maybe he is!


As Tonya smiles and leads the way, she says he was telling her that word in the ol’ church is…these are not the real mummies that belong here! Can you believe it! He says that the church sold the original mummies and then had buy replacement mummies so people like us and whiny kids would not be disappointed when they walk all the way down into the cold crypts to see empty coffins…or just some plaque apologizing for having to pawn off the real deals. What a shocking revelation. Tonya could have ruined our whole trip with this news. How do we know these aren’t Eskimos, or Russians, or Belgians? Who are these dead people and are we being gypped?


We hit the dark crypt and in the hallway, there is a hole in the floor, covered by glass and lit from below. What does this mean? There is no plaque to explain and no one around to ask. Just an illuminated hole through the stone so we can stare at dirt. In the room next to us though…

Mummies! They are all around, lying there and standing there. They are definitely mummies. I am fascinated by what they are dressed in. I can’t help but stare at the positions of their hands. One mummy has amazingly long toes! Did they bury him barefoot? Was he the town freak? Geez! Those are looooong boney toes! Looking at them all, one does wonder, “who are these people and why are they here?” There is some literature nearby and it says that even the church is not sure who they are. Possibly victims of Mexico’s revolution, some could have been patrons of the church and some maybe the elite of the time. (I hate to say it…but this does lend some credence to the old guard’s story up stairs)


Alexandra is creeped out. “Oh my God” is all she can say as she stares at each one. After another one is viewed, she says she is creeped out and wants to leave. I laugh at the fact that no matter how grossed out she is, she has to get a few snaps…you know, to show off the ol’ holiday pics to all the gang back home. She pulls out her camera and tries to get a ghoulish shot. As she does, she backs into a halogen light. Is it a boney finger straight form the depths of hell, poking and pulling her into the mummy party? Is it Old Scratch himself, inviting her down for a chat? She screams! This is the last straw. She is totally spooked and tells us it is time to go. As she turns to lead the way, she sees the light that she backed in to. It is not good enough though, as she says she is still sure that it is a sign. Get out!

I cackle at the incident and take a few more snaps myself. Alexandra wastes no time getting up the stairs and out. I think it is because she is spooked, but as she reaches the top and she’s the rain, she’s panting. She is scared-but what she really wants is a cigarette. WHAT! Maybe the whole thing was an act. Maybe she was too cool to look at rotting dead people and just wanted to show off and smoke. I suppose only she knows the truth.


After she puffs he cares away, Tonya has another brilliant idea. Let’s go eat! This cool torta place is just down the road, and we can sit there and eat until the rain stops. Alexandra makes a blank face. Imagine her horror. Not only did she stare death in the face, and look through some of the faces staring at her, but now she has to eat a gooey, drippy torta.


Sounds good to me!

The Mountains; Heading Home

The alarm clock was never heard.

At precisely 6:30 am, there is a loud crash, a bang and then the ensuing magical chaos of ‘Via Con Dios’. I jumped out of bed and the sounds of tubas, trumpets, drums and all sorts of assorted brass were echoing through the room. There are no real windows, so I could not really see what was outside. The only thing I knew was that this music was outside and sounded very, very close.

I open a shutter and could not see anything. It was still dark. I thought the band was just behind this huge tree and shrub. As the song ended, all I could do was laugh. I stood on the porch in my undies and t-shirt, and clapped as loud as a man can that was awakened by a small mountain village band at 6:30 in the morning. The claps echoed and I could hear some band members laugh. They started straight up into another song. This had to be joke. It had Ray and Lourdes written all over it.

Tonya was asking “What’s going on?” while she just lay in bed and laugh. The mystery band played and played for half an hour. No one else in the village complained, there were no shouts and no tomatoes or eggs being thrown. As the sun begins to rise, I could see the tops of a tuba and some other shiny brass in a yard just beyond the shrubs, behind an old shack. The band had set up there and began their early morning concert for gringos. I grabbed my camera and filmed a few brief moments to keep.

priceless

Undoubtedly, this was the best send off gift either of us had ever had. A perfect end to a wonderful trip. This will definitely be a memory we keep our whole lives.

Sometime around 7:30, Ray and Lourdes show up. They claim they didn’t hear a thing. Ray says the people are just friendly and were saying goodbye. Lourdes claims she has no idea as to the who, what, where and why. Ray tells me that Lourdes had asked the band to play us a goodbye song before we left, so we would have nice memories of our stay.

We hit the road around 8. I practice the proper way of mountain driving and we manage to have brakes the whole time. We stop in Mascota and buy up some regional sweets and goodies, then do the very long haul back home. We were in high spirits, and many times during the drive we would smile and laugh about the pre-dawn concert. There were no arguments, no dog accidents, no drug gang incidents…just a very relaxed drive home.

However, as soon as we got to the city, a wrong turn was made and once again our journey into the unknown began. Getting lost is becoming a bad habit.

To this day, Tonya thinks the band was a coincidence. I think otherwise…

The Mountains; Our Last Day

We had debated leaving today (Friday) or Saturday. We were having second thoughts for sticking it out, as today proved to be a ‘wash out’. There was not much doing today, but sitting and watching rain. Yes, we were starting to think that we would have been better off having left.

It was raining in the morning. This can be nice. It is very peaceful lying around or shuffling around while a gentle rain falls. Somehow, I think it make coffee taste better. I know it makes reading and watching old movies better for sure. It definitely sets the tone for today. It will plod along at a very s l o w pace.

Dash: a sign of the times

We managed to get to Leonora’s for a bite of breakfast. By mid day we had a short break as well. Ray and Lourdes stop by and see what is shaking. Ray has come with some tools and wants to prune the trees as per Coco’s instructions. Just to make sure, he had stopped by the coffee lady and asked her opinion. Seems that those with green thumbs think alike. Time is running out, and you have less than 48 hours to trim up or shut up. Ray is out in the yard, trimming while the rain is trying to decide to call it quits or be a nuisance. We sit around a visit while watching Ray. Andres shows up, and so do our next door neighbors, Gabriel and his wife (sorry, forgot her name!). It sprinkles off and on and it keeps us on the porch, providing plenty of time for small talk and gossip.

Gabriel has just returned from Puerto Vallarta. He tells us how a friend of his was car jacked earlier today. Seems that the region north of Puerto Vallarta, Nayarit, is still riddled with drug lords and their minions. According to lore, all the Intel around that region was dismantled about 5 years ago. In the meantime, the drug lords and opposing gangs have been able to build up a strong network and gain control of the region. Word on the street is that the even put small holograms on their bags of dope. If bags are found in the wrong area with the wrong hologram, the guns come out. Back to Gabriel. He tells of how a drug gang had waited a bit outside of town, with a large bus in tow. They had a small group of about 30 foot soldiers. Any wary traveler who happened to come down this particular highway this morning was flagged down by men with machine guns. The people were told to get out of their car and were marched to the waiting bus. The group peeled down man by man, until they had accosted 30 cars. (They had planned this, because they had a ‘driver’ for each car they would steal). After the last car was taken, the bus was driven back to the outskirts of town, and the people were told to beat it.

This is great news for us! This really makes the drive home seem like a real fun experience. Gabriel laughs, “You are going the opposite way! It is only if you go towards Vallarta is there a possible problem.” That is not too comforting to Tonya, and doesn’t do me any favors either. This is just what I wanted to hear, Highwaymen out and about as we are about to begin our trek back home.

In the other ear, a conversation has been going on between Andres and Gabriel’s wife. She asked what was really going on with Arizona and the way people feel in America about the illegals. Well, you can only imagine the spin Andres gave. A left-wing gay man raised under a dictator in Argentina. I don’t understand Spanish, but I do get the words “rights” and “unconstitutional”. I have discussed this with Andres before, and I know he is not telling the story the way I would. However, in all the gabbing going on, Gabriel has invited us to his restaurant tonight for dinner.

The rain goes silent. The conversation has rested enough to realize that the drops have stopped falling. Everyone decides to make a break for it while they can. We all say we will meet up later, and Andreas says he will return to see about horseback riding.

This is what it looks like watching rain outside the window

Andreas never makes it back. I wonder how he will survive, leaving his sunglasses and iPhone behind. The gentle break has resided, and now it is coming back a little less shy. Before too long, it is raining hard enough to where we have to get off the patio. As the rain kicks up, the power goes out (again?). We sit inside the place and watch the rain fall. It gets harder and harder, and then it is pouring. As we watch the water in a steady stream form the roof, I notice a pattering sound. It is almost as soon as I hear it, it gets louder. It is starting to hail. At first, the tiny ice balls bounce off the cars, then I notice them landing onto the front porch. They are bouncing all over the place, like someone has just busted a giant beanbag! Next thing I know, the hail is coming in through the windows…even onto my computer that is sitting on the desk! I see a car pull up in front of Gabriel’s. It is him and his son, but they are trapped. It is raining and hailing so hard that all they can do is sit and wait. I stand and watch them wait. This is going to take a while.

a piece of hail on my laptop!

The day whiles on and with no power, it starts to get dark inside the house. There is nothing you can do but wait. We decide to try to make the best of it, and decide it is a perfect time to take a nap.

Good times...

It worked! I am not sure how long we dosed off, but we awake again to a slight drizzle and the sound of birds chirping. It is dusk. We flip a switch to see if we have power. Nope, but you can see the lights glowing, straining to turn on. Our bellies are telling us that we should make a move while we can. The dogs staring at us as if they are lost urchins make us wonder if we should go. Tonya worries about leaving them alone in the house if the power doesn’t come on. I tell her I will leave them on, so that if the power does come on, they will have plenty of light to stare at one another until we return. We grab a jacket and a raincoat and go downhill to ray and Lourdes’s place. I know Andreas is probably panicking, so I make sure I grab his beloved iPhone and sunglasses, and off we go.

We get to Ray’s and he is immediately offering some raicilla. He has bought loads off a local moonshiner, and wants everyone to turn on to it. Personally, it is not to my liking. I sip as to not offend. We sit around a bit and chat and wait for the power to come back. It doesn’t. Lourdes says that it is getting late, almost 9. If we are going to eat, we have to get to Gabriel’s before 10. We head out to see if he is even open.

It is almost like a dream. Fog hugs the square, but small beams of light are poking through. Most of the beams coming form the open doors of Gabriel’s place. There is a small group of people sitting at a table in the corner, and the only sound aside form them is gentle rain and the staff. We choose a big table in the opposite corner and start to get cozy. Gabriel comes from out of the kitchen and welcomes us. He tells us to make ourselves at home and asks us if we want some drinks and appetizers, and hands us some menus. Lourdes and Tonya are thrilled that he serves up the famed corn fungus, huitlacoche. They order two servings. I order a glass of wine. When Gabriel is fetching our goods, Lourdes gives us a quick tip; do not talk of Coco and Walter, because they do not get along with Gabriel and his wife. Part competition and part personal. Messaged received loud and clear.

You would have thought we all had prime Argentine porterhouses the way the folks were acting when the fungus arrived. Andreas and I were new to this, so we used caution when approaching. It was a thick sludge, brown-ish, almost purple. I took a taste. I took another trying to decide what I thought, without giving too much thought that I am eating rot from corn and what it may do to my guts. “Well?” was the question being asked, with all eyes on me. “Uh” I try to align my thoughts and taste recollection, “it tastes like cold Wolf brand chili…without the beans” That is the best I could come up with, and I still stick by it. It was the same consistency and almost the same taste. The others seemed less than thrilled with my opinion, and Ray tries to justify by saying it is probably spices that it was cooked with.

I feel even worse about not being able to tell if my wine is crap or if it is the fungus which is interfering with my wine. Andreas can see that I am wrestling with my drink as well as the plate of fungus. He asks to see my glass. He sniffs, looks at me and sips. “Yes, it is bad” he says and looks around the table, “The wine is corked”. We haven’t even gotten the meal in full swing and I have to summon Gabriel out and tell him his wine sucks. I see him take it to the back and smell it. Ray jokes and says he’ll just bring it back in a different glass. I think he’ll call some drug thugs and tell them which way we are heading tomorrow. Gabriel returns with two glasses and hand one to me. I sip, and then sip again. “Good”. Gabriel sets them both down and then asks if we are ready to order. I can’t decide, so I wonder if asking him what he recommends is wrong, after I just dissed his wine. I choose the steak with a special salsa. He gives me a thumbs up. I am hungry and I can’t wait to eat, especially some real meat!

He returns and tells me that there is no more steak. I glance at the menu and give him my back up, a four cheese pizza. It was actually quite good! Everyone else seemed to like their food too. I dare not say it to Gabriel, but it doesn’t come close to his nemesis Walter. The food disappears in no time. After Gabriel clears our table, he sits and spins tales of all sorts. I love hearing all these. He is drinking too, so his Spanish is lost and he tells the tales in English. He is slow at first, but he gains ground with each sip. He and his wife are vegetarians, and crazy about the local plants and herbs. He tells of scientists coming from Puerto Vallarta to go over some edible varietals of mushrooms. This is the cue for the old stoners at the table to reminisce about their mushroom adventures. I sit and smile and think that it is no wonder that people get freaked out from eating fungal growths from poop. You do the math!

Gabriel spins a long tale about some weird trip he took form some bizarre South American concoction form deep within the Amazon. He’d gotten some stuff from a visiting shaman who was in town to trip people out with this ancient freak out drug. The story goes on and on. Ray seems like he wants to sign up and meet this old shaman next time he’s around. Gabriel laughs and says “Ok! Let’s do it!”

Gabriel is a cool guy. It is great he is a food freak, and even more so that he is into the natural aspect of food. He tries to use local stuff for his dishes, and truly tries to live off the land. He gets up for a moment to check on something and then returns with a sealed bottle, like a new olive oil bottle. He asks if we want to try his home-made peach schnapps. Ok (wait, didn’t we do this same kinda thing last night?)

Ray is quick with the expletives. This is smooth, soft and goes down like it was never there. Gabriel stands at the table, waiting for feedback. Without a doubt, Ray gives him what he wants. We follow suit, all shaking our heads and putting our glasses down. Gabriel makes some very, very excellent peach schnapps. A few more glasses of the syrupy schnapps are poured, and some conversation continues. It may be after the food, schnapps and a long day, but Gabriel’s laugh and his shoulders moving while he giggles is a very comforting sight. This all feels very good and right. We all sit at a round table and everyone is taking turns talking and laughing and just enjoying the time together.

Being a proper host, Gabriel interrupts the flow once again, points at each of us individually as he stands up, and asks who wants an espresso? Lourdes immediately informs the table that we must all try one, because according to her, Gabriel’s espresso is a most amazing experience. She backs out, of course, because it is too late and she is afraid she won’t sleep. Ray, Andreas and I continue on. Gabriel steps back into the back part of the restaurant, and I can see him with his back to us, grinding chocolate and preparing the coffee. A few minutes later he returns with three espressos and eyebrows raised.

the most amazing espresso

This. This is the bomb! Yes, I have had some great food here. Yes, I do love coffee and have had different coffees whilst all around this crazy planet-however, I have never had an espresso like this. This is the kind of stuff that draws out TV chefs to bring cameras in tow to see for themselves. Man! This is rich, creamy smooth, velvety, round, full, delicious…you name it. All packed in to such a tiny little cup. And crazier yet, served out of a kitchen in some Podunk town way up in the mountains by some freak who trips out with shamen. Life is sometimes stranger than fiction.

Again, I have to say how much these nights are enjoyed. The friends, the food, the village. I really hate that this all has to end. I am grateful that this, our last night here, is spent with these great folks. It is even better than we have the fantastic food and drink to boot! What started out as an abysmal, rainy day has turned into an unexpected warm and cozy time. Money can’t buy these times, they are truly priceless.

this...is a party!

Warm, fuzzy and full, we have to say our goodbyes. Our time with Gabriel was brief, but he is true character and a guaranteed good time. I am glad we met. Andreas is leaving tomorrow from Puerto Vallarta, so we will say our goodbyes now too. Ray and Lourdes say they will be by at 7am to see us off on our long drive home tomorrow. We shake hands and hug, and say goodbye to our friends and good times.

Our walk back is nice as we exchange talk of our time here and the impressions the people have made. A wonderful place and some truly wonderful people. This was a well deserved break, and I know in the midst of all Tonya’s heartbreak, she has probably enjoyed it more than all of us. Back at our place, it is a quick ‘ready for bed’ ritual and lights out. I get yelled at because I putz around in the bathroom and am not quick enough to bed. I hit the switch, leave my slippers beside the bed and crawl up behind the mosquito net. Nighty night!

The Mountains; Day 4

Last night was an amazing experience. I have never experienced anything like it. Yeah, ok, we had a fabulous dinner with Ray and Lourdes and Andreas. That was nice and it is always nice having dinner and wine with assorted characters. Is there anything better?

The true amazement happened after dinner. Once again we work our way through the fog back to our place. The same ritual; go in, see the dogs, let them out, back in and call it a night. The entertainment tonight was going to be the latest Mel Gibson thriller. Once we are in our nighties, we set up the computer for viewing, crawl into the mosquito net and click ‘start’. Typical, Tonya doses off not even 15 minutes into the film. I sit watching, half interested but still mildly amused. It has started to rain, and there are a few times that the sound goes out. No biggie, just lasts a few seconds and back on. Mark it down to cheap bootlegged DVDs. The sound goes out again and I keep watching, anxiously waiting for its return. Idiot me keeps waiting, I haven’t the slightest clue that the power has gone out and the sound will not be back on tonight. I am watching the DVD on battery power, and the external speakers are silent due to lack of electricity. After about 10 minutes or so, I decide that this DVD is crap, and I get up and turn it off. I will not realize the truth of the matter until late the next morning.

Tonya moans as I get situated in bed. She’s been pretty much out anyway, so cutting the film short makes no difference to her. She’ll ask how it was and I will tell her fantastic. I lay there and listen to the gentle rain. It is very peaceful. I like this stuff at night, it is truly relaxing…kind of adds to the whole ‘getaway from it all’ vibe.

I have no idea what time it was when the bed shook. There was a tremendous bang. Tonya and I woke up in tandem, not having any idea what was happening. It took a moment or two to get our bearings. It was so loud that it is somewhat frightening. It is a huge thunderstorm. Lightning is flashing like a giant strobe. I am not joking when I tell you it is like the adjustment knob has been set to continuous flashing. Slices of light come from underneath the shudders, while a square box of light continually flashes from the hallway window. I would love to get up and watch, but there are no actual windows in this place (except this one, the view blocked by a tree) only heavy wooden shudders. This is my first heavy duty mountain storm, and it is amazing. Tonya and I lay in bed, wide awake, not saying much but just listening and getting bounced around a bit. The thunder is so strong it does shake the whole place. I am not a pro at this, but I am guessing that because we are in a mountain range, that the thunder just rolls along and echoes back. It is like it is running laps around the whole range.

I have never heard anything like this. A clap of thunder will go off and continue, nonstop for a few minutes. Sometimes it will begin to die down and another is let loose. Sometimes, an extra dollop of whammy thunder is added just because, and then you have two echoing thunder bombs bouncing around out there. I wish I could tape this and play it back to all in a surround sound theater, it is that amazing. Obviously, the dogs are freaked out beyond belief and are clamoring to get a space on the bed. The extra shakes from Winston and Sunny keep the bed constantly wiggling, and whenever a good sonic boom is let off from the storm, we get an extra shake. I do not know how we fell asleep, but we eventually did. I assume it was from complete exhaustion of the senses.

The next morning we awoke to no power and outside was drenched. We kept talking of the amazing storm, and how neither of us had experienced anything like it. We were so awestruck, that Tonya even forgot to ask about the Mel Gibson film!

While walking the dogs, we realized that because of the storm and no power, we would not be able to make coffee. This is unsettling. We take extra care not to slip on the stone streets as we do the rounds with the dogs. We drop the dogs off and decide to try our regular breakfast place. Thankfully Leonora was open! I was also pleased to know that we city folk were not the only ones awestruck form the storm. Even the locals were abuzz with talk over the huge storm. A young guy sits across form us and talks with Tonya and Leonora. We are all wondering after the big deal, how long we would be without power. Look! Consensus is; the thunderhead settled on the actual ridge where the village was, that is why there was no relief, but the constant barrage. Leonora comes out and checks on Tonya. I think she is taking a liking to her. They sit and have small talk and then she has to get back to the kitchen to cook some more locals breakfast. As we are sitting there, a buzzing starts in the corner of the room. It is the bottle cooler. I look to where the sound is coming from, catching the startled gaze of the guy across from us. We both let out an excited “Luz!” The power is back and I just shared my glee in Spanish with a local! I am proud, even more so that he acknowledged that I knew what I was saying.

The rest of the day is pretty much a wash-out, pardon the pun. Lourdes calls Tonya to check on us and let us know they have to go see some people about work being done on their land. They will be tied up for a while. We manage to make do, I sit and type up this blog and Tonya does a bit of reading, straightening up and napping.

As evening comes we get a round up visit. Ray and Lourdes are here. This can only mean one thing; it is time to go eat! Andreas is in tow and we are going back to the great Italian joint so we can all partake in more great eats.

Walter & Coco's. Truly scrumptious Italian food.

We are the only ones there. I suppose after the big storm and lazy day, not too many people are venturing out. We take the biggest table and get comfy. There is talk back and forth over what to try this time. Walter comes out and visits with us. He shakes everyone’s’ hands and while rubbing his own, asks what we are all drinking. It appears that not only is he cooking, but he is the waiter too. (Actually, his son is there, but he will only help bring out plates as needed) He gives us some time and then asks what we want. I am salivating over the pasta choices, so I ask his assistance. He reassures me that the lasagna is a big favorite with the locals, and he thinks it is quite tasty too. Ok, I am having that!

The place all to ourselves

What can I say? Once again, Walter does a fantastic job. Everyone is quite happy with their dishes. All the pasta and sauces are homemade, and the wine came from Costco (I recognized the bottle, because it is one we buy there too!). The conversation is splendid and we are all feeling pretty good. Walter comes to check on all of us, this time he has his son in tow and they are both carrying round trays with assorted frosty bottles on them. He stands like a proud conductor and tells us that he wants us to sample his homemade digestives! Mmmmm. He has some crazy green one, like Chartreuse. He has an orange one, he has some other herby ones too. He sets out several shot glasses and pours the slow, cold liquid into each one. Man! That is some jazz! It is fantastic! Walter's lovely digestifs (orange on the left)

Coco shows up. She has been out all day shopping. She says hello and goes back and forth to the car. She finishes up and then pulls up a chair and lights up a cig. As she sits, she sees the digestives on the table and asks what we think of Walter’s latest creations. Everyone nods in approval. Coco puffs, tilts her head back and exhales, then nods in agreement, “It’s good, no?” It is.

surprise dinner guest under my seat.

It has gotten quite dark now, and the setting is a bit eerie. Fog is creeping up onto the seating area, as well as something furry at my feet. It is a cat! There are few cats crawling around under our table and chairs. Coco is talking about all sorts of stuff. In a way, she is like some kind of sage, or wise woman. Ray is thinking of pruning some trees, and asks Coco what to do. She tells him he only has two days. He must do so while the moon is right, so the trees will grow properly. She shakes her head to re-affirm her wisdom. She smokes some more, and in the haze she gives us another tidbit for free, “The same with your hair. You should cut it when it is a full moon. It will grow much quicker” I do not know what to think about that. I am caught in her gaze and her serious, droll tone is almost hypnotizing. The topics change at whim. It could be World Cup, it could be basil leaves, and it could be tourists. Then again, it could be snakes! Coco dispels some more mountain truths, and tells of when the snakes come down from on high. “October” she says tapping another cigarette in an ashtray. “The snakes come down from the mountain in October. You have to be careful, as they are everywhere”. Good thing it is May, or I would be looking under my table about now. I tell you, the way Coco smokes and talks, and you will believe most anything she says. I stare out into their garden and see what looks like green neon cross, floating in the thick fog. Man, talk about ambience.

Surreal view from Coco's garden.

It is time for a break. Coco wants us to try her homemade peach nectar. She gets up and goes to the bar to fetch a round of glasses. She returns to give us each a shot glass, and proceeds to pour her brew into all of our glasses. Walter has finished up, and he takes his apron off and pulls up a chair at the end of the table, next to Coco. He tells us this is good even before we get our lips wet with the stuff. It is rich, golden orange in color, and moves like silk. Tastes a bit caramelly too. He shakes his head and smiles, and says there is a bit of caramel in there. It is lovely. There are enough drinks and cigarettes here to keep us a while longer. It is great sitting here, having a chat with the proprietors. They are interesting people and their stories are fascinating too. Somehow, while talking of their ‘wonder’ herbs they grow in the garden, Walter chirps up excitedly, “I have cabernet grapes too! I am growing my own grapes for wine” he stands up and asks if we want to see. I happily oblige. He takes us into the garden, up to his vines, and gently lifts up the small bundle of grapes “Look! Aren’t they fantastic!” he is beaming like a new father. ‘I don’t know what happened. I planted them about three years ago and nothing. Then, all of a sudden, this year, I have grapes! They are beautiful, no?” They are. Like the coffee lady, this is a huge thrill for me. I am over-taken with his enthusiasm, and stand staring and the bright green grapes amidst the fog and the even foggier mind. What another great night! I want to hug this guy and his wife!

Walter's cabernet grapes

The hours have flown past, and it is getting late. Coco and Walter give us a warm goodbye. They have been wondrous hosts and serve up truly amazing food and drinks. We are all pleased, full and well saturated. Hey, this is a great way to spend a Thursday night, right? Luckily, Walter’s place is close to where we are staying, so we say goodnight to everyone, and let those chumps walk the distance back to their place. We should be in our jammies by the time they get back. We are feeling good, and good enough to try and finish this Mel Gibson film. Feeling a bit idiotic not knowing the power outage caused the silence the night before, we feel like champs tonight and will tackle it once again.