The Mountains; Day 3

There is absolutely nothing thrilling to me about the prospect of going to a beach. Imagine my excitement when the time had finally come for us to pile into a transit van and take a long and winding ride downhill, with our final destination being more sun and sand.

I sat in a lawn chair and got tossed to and fro in the back of a van for an hour and a half. Whenever the question would be asked from Ray “You guys wanna explore some of the beaches and go try out some swimming holes?” I secretly rolled my eyes to myself. “Uh. It is up to you Ray. I am not too worried about swimming…” My polite replies would make no effect whatsoever.

Ray loves to play tour guide and tell you all sorts of neat info and trivia. It is interesting to have him around. He definitely makes the trip more worthwhile. He drove us through Puerto Vallarta, showing us the old and new town. He would point and tell us of odd facts about this building and that, and what hotels were devastated from the last tsunami. 30 ft. waves hit here a few years back! Amazing.

His tales of Liz Taylor and her time her obviously got the queen worked up. He just could not wait to see where she lived and the abandoned movie set for “Night of the Iguana”. This, of course, leads to the obvious question of ‘where is the gay part of town’? Ray laughed and simply said “What do you mean? You guys are everywhere! There is no gay part!” Andreas just beamed with a smile.

Puerto Vallarta is nothing special to me. It is what one would imagine. A dingy seaside town, serving as a non-stop excuse to get drunk and be retarded to loads of foreigners…mainly Americans. Nothing is more exotic than dirty streets and chunky jocks in flip flops, walking around shopping for Corona t-shirts and cheap eats. Ray parked the car in town so he could buy a few groceries. I stood on the corner and watched the summer fun. I kept a close eye on the grocery store door, because I was definitely the first one ready to get back into the van. I still wonder why so many people like this place.

When we do pile back in, we work our way up hill, one tourist trap after another. It was like a small hotel garden. All of them neatly planted one after another, all facing the sea. “Suckers” was all I could think as we drove past all of them.

Ray’s extensive wanderlust knowledge pays off time and time again. He drives up and up, then turns into some shabby looking driveway, past tacky tourist shops, down a tiny road past two blue porta-potties and parks. “This is it!” he says truly excited. I plop out, obviously radiating my own excitement. As one would expect, Mexicans come at you from all sides offering boat rides, snorkeling, dresses, fake dreads…you name it. I just show them my radiant face and glare. Fending off the hordes, I am immediately reminded of what I left; heat and sun. This was not cool (no pun intended). It wasn’t all bad though. Beside me there was a small gulley with water in it, and a line of boats, waiting to be pushed out to sea. At the end of this gulley was a larger pool of water, with 4 pelicans standing there. I found this very interesting, watching them lounge, primp and eat. Have you ever seen a pelican groom?

The four Pelicans

I have to change out of my shorts into my swimsuit. This is mainly due to Tonya’s insistence. I guess I don’t want to be a complete bore. I have to switch into my fun gear inside the van. This is not thrilling. The others have taken turns changing and now me. I step in to the hot van covered with sand. Truthfully, I see no other way to change but to lie on my back and take my shorts off and quickly switch to my swimsuit. The thought of my bare butt touching all the gritty sand makes my skin crawl. Worse is the fact of having to do so with passing Mexicans and tourists right outside the back windows. All I need is some passerby to glance in and see this tall, lanky naked gringo squirming on the floor of the van as if it pain.

Stepping out of the van, I do a quick look around to make sure no one has seen me change. I cross a small bridge and make my way to where Ray, Lourdes and Andreas are sitting. This is it! A table on the beach, a few umbrellas for shade and a waiter with one completely white eye. You know it is a bad thing when your ‘waiter’ is wearing shorts and sandals. Ray lifts up his plastic coated one sheet menu and says “You guys hungry?” I can’t believe it. We just got here and it is only 11:30 in the morning. “Look Tim, they have eggs”. Seriously? I look at the menu and amidst all the seafood on offer, they do have eggs…and ‘pan cake’. I laugh to myself at the thought of being served only one pancake. I ask Tonya what she is getting, she happily says a shrimp cocktail. Andreas is getting an octopus cocktail. Disgusting. I am so grossed out I put the menu down and just shove my toes in the sand. Tonya insists I get something, so orders me guacamole and a mineral water. Yes, this is to be my combination breakfast and lunch. Tonya’s lunch shows up. A huge glass that looks like it is filled with dirty dish water and shrimp, with all the trashy bits floating on top. Andreas’s looks no better. In fact, his is a little more frightening because of the severed tentacles fading in and out of the brown muck, touching the sides of his glass and then back into the muck. I slowly pick at my guacamole, chip after chip. I noticed that our waiter was being friendlier and had even put on a pair of sunglasses now.

If you can overlook the tourists wandering around and block out the “No way dude…” from the shirtless pink sunburned chubby guys, it is actually kind of pretty. There are two large ‘rocks’ out there in the bay. These odd pieces are very pretty. Some of the original cliffs are still visible too, the rest are being eroded by condos and hotels. The famed set for the Liz Taylor film is literally just yards away from us, to our left . At first, I am miserable, sitting there just sweating. I am not shirtless, I am not sunbathing, I am not excited about sitting here with the ability to eat eggs on a beach. However, the longer I do sit and stare at the big rocks out there, the more I do enjoy it. There are the pelicans flying overhead, nabbing fish out of the ocean. Seagulls and other birds too. I think about how nice the sunsets must be, and even watching storms come in must be very interesting. Ray tells us that in the fall, in this very place, you can sit and watch the whales and dolphins. They come to have their offspring there, and he says you can sit here and watch mother and baby whale pop in and out of the water. Now that sounds exciting to me. Too bad it is not whale season.

View over the bay. Nice.

After breakfast or was it lunch, we start to dip into the Pacific. I can’t believe the predictability of Andreas being the typical gay guy on a beach, and pulling off his shorts to reveal his pot belly atop of a bright colored Speedo. Oh man. Of course, I know I looked like a real native, when my shirt came off and I strode defiantly into the water with my white skin blazing in the sun. It was nice. I walked in, deeper and deeper, and the water got a bit cooler. My feet lifted off and I began to swim. It had been a long time since I was at a beach and went swimming. Tonya and I stayed out for a bit and chatted, floated and just took in the surroundings. She was obviously truly excited. Seeing her float around and talk of how excited she was made me enjoy this whole adventure. The cool water was a welcome change. Maybe it really wasn’t so bad.

We sat at our table for quite a while. Each person taking random swims whenever they felt like it. I was sitting next to a guy in a Speedo. The barrage of pesky vendors is beyond annoying. They just keep coming and coming, offering you carved turtles, scarves, horrible t-shirts (one of a Chihuahua having diarrhea on a toilet, with bright orange neon letters “No More Stinking Tacos”), pipes and even dope! “No”, but they make the rounds and 20 minutes later the same guy is asking if you want friendship bracelets again. Then a lady shows up and blurts out “It’s the pie lady”, and she opens up a plastic container and shows us her wares and points to different slices explaining what they are. I thought eggs on a beach were weird, but pie on a beach is pretty odd too. I thought how easy the sand would cling to a piece of pie. It just seemed so un-doable.

“Oh man, she’s great!” exclaimed Ray. He was beaming with excitement. “You gotta try her pies, they are fantastic!” He talks a bit with her, and asks her to come back later.

“Anyone want to go see Liz’s place” perks up Andreas. No one seemed to care. I took heart and said I would go with him. “It’s just over there, at the end of the rocks” he says enthusiastically.

“You should take your shoes” warns Tonya. “Those rocks get hot”. I look at Andreas and he answers for the both of us, “No. I think we will be ok” and I start to stroll along the seaside with a potbellied gay man in a Speedo to see a Liz Taylor artifact. As we walk he asks if I knew anything about the story behind the film. “Nope” I simply say. “I don’t think I have even seen the film. I started to watch it and got bored after about 10 minutes”. We discuss a few classics, and Andreas confesses that upon his recent re-viewing of ‘Casablanca’, he was bored to death. We agree that many ‘classic’ things we are supposed to be in awe of are really just wank.

It was not long before Andreas starts with “Ouch”, “Ooh”, “Damn”, “Ahhh”. Every few steps he stops and grimaces and lets loose and expletive. “It is literally cooking my feet” he says as the veins are bulging on the brow of his tanned bald head. He says he has to turn back and get his shoes. “Aren’t your feet hot” he asks. Yes, but I just keep walking. The more we stop, the hotter they get. Andreas says he’s really hurting. I tell him to stand in the shade and offer to go back and get our shoes so we can finish the trek. He steps into the shade and grimaces. I hobble back across the hot rocks and back to the table. The others are obviously curious as to where Andreas is. “What a girl” I say as I explain why I am back. I slip mine on, then grab Andreas’s and head back across the rocks. We have to get him to his landmark! He slips his shoes on and we walk the rest of the way until the end of the rocks. The abandoned movie set was fenced off. A downer after suffering the trial of burning feet. Still, we stand at the base and look up. Then out. Then start back. Oh well.

The pie lady showed back up and Lourdes starts to order this and that. Ray starts in too, and tells her which are the best. The order changes a few times and we end up with a slice of coconut, chocolate and cheese(?!). “Oh man!” Ray says, as if it were Christmas. “You gotta get some of this. You are not going to believe it.” Lourdes follows up, basically taking the words out of my mouth. “You would never imagine buying pie on a beach” she says, “…but hers are truly amazing”. Ray busts out the thick slice of coconut pie and breaks off a piece like a knight on a bawdy binge. He passes it around as crumbs are falling off. It is good, and so moist. “It’s still warm…” mumbles Ray with a mouthful of pie. I look at him as I am breaking my piece off and he smiles and continues “…from the sun!” and he starts laughing. Ray is always up for a laugh, and usually gets one out of whoever is around. It definitely worked on me!

We decide it is time to head back. There is that constant fear of not getting back up in the mountains before the fog rolls in. Ray says we’ll pack it up and head back, stopping off to buy some groceries for dinner. We get to the van to find ourselves blocked in behind triple parked cars. The tourists had definitely shown up in droves since we’d began our day. Ray does a miracle, and manages to get the van out of the mess, and backs it up at least ¼ mile, dodging parked cars and tourists on his way out. No small feat. Even tourists cheer him on for his magnificent backing abilities. Once we get turned around, we’re off.

We manage to beat the fog. As we enter in to town, Ray says he wants to show us the coffee lady. “This is the stuff the lady serves in town at the little restaurant” he says. “You’ll love it”. He pulls up in front of a simple, nondescript place. “C’mon” he says. As we walk up, he starts to chat with the lady who runs the place. Ray is always the charmer, and can talk with anyone. I always feel very comfortable with him around, as he can introduce anyone to anyone. Right now, he is introducing us to the ‘coffee lady’. As we walk into the doorway of her place, the smell of coffee is in the air. We walk into a dimly lit room. There is a long table there, a few shelves, and bags of coffee laid out. It was done by weight, big bags, small bags and local sweets. It is all grown on premise, and all organic…and all smells so good. The lady stands over her goods and shows us what she has. We opt for the coffee ground with cocoa. It smells delicious. After we pay, Ray tells us to go into her garden. She shows us to some coffee plants. She stands and tells us of how you harvest the coffee, when to pick the beans and how much a harvest yields. I was fascinated. She grows other herbs too. This was undoubtedly the highpoint of the day for me. I thought this was the best thing! Seeing the way coffee is grown, smelling it, having a simple town lady show us how she makes her living was a precious moment for me. She welcomed us in and showed us her world.

We got home and said we would meet up later for dinner. Andreas was to be on duty as chef, and I was ready to eat a real meal.

Andreas in charge (thankfully, not in his Speedo!)

Tonya, another helping hand

It was around 8 when we walked up Lourdes’ path and into their place. Andreas was already cooking. Lourdes, smiling, welcomes us in and offers up drinks. For the next hour or so we sit and talk and drink wine. Tonya helps out Andreas and Ray gives them a hard time. As Andreas’ tomato sauce is nearing readiness, the cooks discover that there is no pot big enough to boil the pasta. A debate ensues as if it is better to cook the pasta in two separate bowls or in one odd, low wok looking thing. After the deliberation, the low slung pot wins and more time is added on the clock. Ray sees the opportunity for some more ribbing, and lets loose.

With much fanfare the pasta is finished, and presented to the table at 10:30. We were all starving, and by now, had had enough tequila or wine to be perfectly relaxed. It is fantastic! There is a cool breeze, good food and friends around the table. Lourdes explains how she doesn’t think of this place as solely hers, because when she is here, she likes everyone to be able to cook. I agree with her that having friends together and being able to mingle, cook and talk is the recipe for a great evening. This is a prime example. I sit and take it all in and am truly grateful for the hospitality Ray and Lourdes have shown and continue to show. They are excellent hosts and travel guides, and once again tonight, they are the best hosts in the world. Dinner could not be better.

The Mountains; Day 2

Last night was another new experience. We had the good fortune of hearing what happens when every dog in the village decides to start a howling contest in the deepest, darkest of the night. The added bonus was all the echo of the mountains. A kennel in an echo chamber! What a lullaby.


Every day is the same ritual. You wake up and let the pups out to do their business. Today is no different…well, sort of. I am walking around still in a haze and the dogs are out in the yard doing their routine. Tonya is…well, I dunno. After a few moments I ask her where Sunny is. I walk into the house and look. “Is he in here with you?” I ask. Tonya’s eyes get as big as official World Cup balls and she poses the same question back to me. The panic sets in and I run out to see if Sunny is clowning around somewhere in the big yard. Nope. He is not anywhere to be found. Tonya is heading out the door when I throw on a t-shirt, and we’re off.


We walk down the hill, calling his name and looking down side streets. Tonya asks everyone we see if they have seen Sunny. We get some positives, and they all point to the other end of the village. Knowing Sunny, he would waste no time at getting into trouble and as far away as possible. When we reach the square, we split up. Between the two of us we easily covered nearly the whole village. This is a real drag. The possibility of losing your dog in a strange town is daunting, but knowing that you face this before you even have breakfast can really get your day off to a rough start. We run into one another at the bottom of the village, near a small creek. Both of us are no further along with luck than when we left the top of the hill. I say I will head up and cover a few other streets. Tonya says she will stop in at Lourdes’ and tell them what happened. Once again, we rendezvous as we were both heading up the hill. “Maybe he is back at home” I say, trying to ease Tonya’s fears. We get to the house and…no luck. As we are pondering what to do, the phone rings. It is Lourdes. She has Sunny! A few seconds later we hear her call from outside. Tonya is out in a flash, I follow eating her dust.


“He was in a ditch” Lourdes says. Actually, it is more like a giant gulley that runs through the town. We passed the very spot where he was found when we were on full alert. Lourdes said she heard dogs barking and went to the noise. Lo and behold, looking down into the gulley was Sunny, lost in his own world. Ray, always the superhero, jumped in and drug Sunny out. Truth be told, Sunny was trapped because the sides were too steep for him to get out. Lourdes is smiling with relief, and Tonya is visibly shaken. She hands the leash to Tonya, and we walk the lost dog back up the steps to the house. He is dirty and his feet are scraped and bloody.


As soon as Sunny is cleaned and inspected by the other dogs, we are good to go get some breakfast. We were both a bit high-strung, so a dull, plain breakfast is in order.


Next up, we hear Andreas has fallen ill. Yikes! He’s laid up in bed in his nice white pjs and we are about to head out on another mountain adventure.


We are actually on the biggest mountain of the range. The highest point looms over our head. Today’s goal is to make it to the tip top. We are getting a late start so that means we will be racing against fog and a dropping sun. No one is in a rush and we all agree that we will meander along and see what turns up.


Lourdes is easily frightened driving uphill. She kneels behind Ray and clings to his seat. I think she purposely does not want to see what lies ahead and below. She grimaces and smiles. Ray acts like a mountain man and takes on anything in his path. Truthfully, I sometimes feel like Lourdes, but I can’t be a sissy sitting in the passenger seat. When we get to those bits of the road where it looks like it is a quarter-mile drop straight down and a path to cross about 8 inches wide with a few extra stones and twigs for added width, I grin and bear it. Ray has no idea how white my knuckles really are, no one does but me and Jesus. I exhale when we get by the sketchy parts and look forward, always look ahead!


Our laissez-faire attitude gets us altitude, but Lourdes fears we are too late. We are at a crossroads. Do we stop in the last remaining village or head upwards. Ray decides to forge on and gets about 30 seconds further along then he too, decides to turn back. Now the real fun is this; after passing some dodgy territory, Ray decides to backtrack. The catch is, there is no room to turn around. He has to back down. Lourdes nearly does what I want to do, kack myself! She stares at the back of his seat. I am freaked out totally, but I want to see if there is a chance to survive, so I put my head out the window and take it upon myself to guide ray backwards…thus increasing our chance of survival. Believe me, his short drive past the crossroads took an eternity in reverse. Even Ray sighed a bit when we reached the crossroads again. Lourdes chides him and demands he take the lower road to the village, so we do. A few hairy turns and tense moments later, we see a church. We made it! We round a turn and are greeted y two donkeys who just stand and stare. As we drive closer, they decide to move out of the way because there really isn’t enough room for two donkeys and a transit van. Something had to give.

The village's official greeting party.

This is it! Two homes and a church! Seriously, there has never been more to the saying ‘what you see is what you get’. This is a two mule town, with a church and two houses. Lourdes explains that there are actually a few more houses spread out, under construction, but this is only a recent addition. “How do these people survive?” is the obvious reaction from me. “They raise and sell what chickens they have and they look after the church” Ray informs us. Hmm. That aint much of a life because I don’t see many chickens! The church is the mainstay, dating back to the 16 century. It is their pride and joy. Odd, this outpost of monks from way back when. Ray says it was back in the day, when they discovered silver and stuff, so they tried to be as far reaching as possible. This is a pretty far reach.

Town square (note woman with folded hands!)

It is almost 3 and already the mist is rolling in. Lourdes is ready to go. Ray wants to go inside the church and show us around, but it is locked. He sees a lone guy sitting, staring at more loneliness. He asks if the church is open. The guy says he will call the lady who will open it for us, and disappears. Lourdes is growing more concerned by the minute, and it may be rubbing off on me. The fog is coming in strong. The lonely guy appears and says the key holder is on her way. Lourdes says to forget it and Ray openly disobeys. We stand around for a few minutes and see a lady descending from the mist. She is walking with her hands folded in front of her, and is wearing an apron. She smiles as she nears and says to wait a moment and she will get the key. Ray kids Lourdes about waiting a few more minutes and she says we have to literally run through the church.



The lady in the apron returns holding a big old key. She leads us up to the old doors and can’t open them. Ray, acting like a real gentleman, takes over and manhandles the stubborn key and door situation. A loud creak is heard and ray is pushing the doors open. The lady steps in first and turns the light on, the motions for us to make ourselves at home. Nice and simple. Nothing too crazy in this church…kind of like the village it resides in. We take a look around and a get a briefing about the church’s paintings from Ray. Lourdes informs us that time is up. We say thank you to the lady with the folded hands on the way out.

Inside the church...

The drive down is a lot easier. It is not near as stressful and it is partly due to the natural force of gravity pulling you down…it helps you down faster. Ray stops at a small clearing of pine trees and says “see that village down there in the valley? That is where we are staying”. I have to nerd out, and ask ray to stop so I can get a good look and take some snaps. He obliges, in fact, when I turn around from my Ansel Adams moment, everyone is standing there looking down below. It is beautiful. We hop back in and continue the descent. As we pass a certain series of tightly wound curves, ray and I both happen to look at the section we just crossed over. “Did you see that!?” Ray says with complete excitement. I did, but I wish I hadn’t. “Shit man! One big truck goes over that and that is it!” he says. I hate to say it, but he seems kind of jazzed by it. The earth had been eroded from underneath a section of the road. It literally left a bare section about 18” sticking out in thin air. It will not be pretty when a heavy truck or heavy rains take their toll on that section. I am glad we are on the lower side; otherwise we may have become temporary residents of the stranded town above. Then again, maybe I could have been the key holder!

A nice view looking waaaay down on our village

another view, a bit more 'close up'

the valley and some fog

There are no real plans for the rest of the day, except to try out the most amazing pizzas south of the Rio Grande. I am not crazy about Italian food in the afternoon, but they close early today and Lourdes told them we were coming.


We show up at the pizza joint, and a guy in the hallway says “I think your friends are here already”, and ushers us in. Do we look that obvious?


The place is tiny, as are most of them here. There are 5 or six tables, that is it. You sit out on the back patio and look into their garden. The giant, flat screen TV is showing a game. We sit down and have a chat with Ray and Lourdes. They fill us in on what is good…all of it, according to them. A couple runs this joint. She is a native of the village, he is from Rimini, an ex-cruise ship chef, Coco and Walter. Coco grows all the herbs in the garden. Walter uses homegrown herbs and makes his own pastas, breads and sauces. Walter is a very amiable guy, who loves his food and his football team. Coco loves to sit and smoke, and it seems like each time she exhales, she laughs then sits up and taps her cig and says “No?” There is something about her…


I don’t think I want an afternoon pasta, so I opt for another dish I do not like in the daytime, pizza. Keep it simple, and get a margherita one. Neither of us really is in the mood for pizza, so we say we’ll share. Ray and Lourdes do the same (copy cats!). We sit and chat and talk with the Dutch girls behind us about the game and who will win the World Cup. Of course, they think Holland will and the main talker of the two smiles and shows her braces as she beams with Dutch pride. Tourists!


Walter brings two pizzas out on wooden stands. He sets them down with utmost care, and ‘Bon Appétit’ he says. He ain’t joking, and neither was Ray and Lourdes when they scolded us for laughing at ‘mountain pizzas’. Man! These things are amazing. Thin crust, hand thrown, not too much sauce, the right amount of cheese…these things are real pro. I say it is too bad it is daytime, or I would eat like a madman and have a bottle of wine to boot. “Don’t worry, we’ll come back and you can try the pasta” Lourdes consoles me, “Plus, Andreas needs to try this food when he feels better”. No doubt.


After we eat, I stand with a full belly and say goodbye to Walter, and once outside, we say ‘ciao’ to Ray and Lourdes. We will be alone the rest of the day. It has been a strange day and neither of us feels like doing much. Plus, tomorrow we are supposed to take a field trip, so we decide to be hermits and have an early night. We while away what is left of the day at our place and briefly step out in the evening to grab some eats from one of the restaurants on the square. After our meager meal, we decide to try out one of the movies we bought off the street, “Shutter Island”. The quality of the disc was great, but the film…myehhh.

The Mountains; Day 1

The ‘getaway’ is to a small mountain village, up in the Sierra Madre range. Clean air, simple life and simple folks. I had assumed I would see the stereotypical chicken in the street scenario (which I did!) and the possibility of Mexicans dressed like my former step dad, wearing those odd Levi polyester western ‘jeans’ and stiff cream colored straw cowboy hats( I did!)…with the added bonus of slapping dominos on a table while sitting outside the liquor store on the square, backed by an obscenely loud jukebox blaring local favorites. Yes, life in a simple town. I guess this is what they call the simple life.

The place.

The view outside our window

One thing I did not expect was the poop rule. Upon our arrival, we get a quick once over of where we will be staying and we are given carte blanche-except for poohing. That is right, you can do the business in the commode, but you cannot flush your toilet paper. Instead, you are to deposit your filth in the tiny trash can waiting patiently beside the commode. This I do not get. I had encountered this phenomenon way back at Tonya’s house when a little Mexican kid came to visit. I was horrified to find ‘used’ paper in the trash can instead of the toilet! Well, this is obviously alive and well and a way of life here in Mexico! What a startling introduction to a peaceful getaway. I now will have to handle my dirtied toilet paper, and neatly fold or wad it up and wrap it in even more toilet paper. Nice. I pray that Montezuma does not seek his revenge on me while I am supposed to be taking it easy.

This is also my first encounter with a mosquito net. I have only seen them in catalogues and movies about Africa. Now, I am lying on a nice white bed with this bug protector around me. I feel mummified. Tonya and I discuss if it is necessary. She reminds me of the obvious fact that if we wrap ourselves up to keep the creepy crawlies out, it will only mean disaster when our dogs want to hop up on the bed. After all, they have no idea how to open the mesh curtains to get inside. Fortune smiles though, as we opt out to keep the net at bay, and do not encounter any creepy crawlies. However, this did set a precedence for checking nightly for scorpions and spiders and other assorted local insects.

I get up this morning and step outside to get a whiff of the clean mountain air. No need for alarm clocks here…the countless amounts of roosters will make sure you get up at regular intervals from anywhere between 3:30 am and regular 7am wake up time. As soon as I focus my eyes, I see a small Doberman standing on the stone fence across the yard, eyeing up this new gun in town. In a flash it is gone, and then comes whipping around the side of the house “HKeep the dogs in! There is a Doberman out here!” I yell at Tonya inside. This is Nina. We were told about her form Lourdes. She is a sweetie. After a few minutes, she is a nuisance. She will not leave you alone and will follow you all around town. We had to deal with this every day.

Winston meets Nina for the first time

First things first. Breakfast is the cornerstone of all our days, so we start at Leonora’s place. Two rooms, the one to eat in and the one to cook in. Four tables. You had best be in good standing with your fellow villagers, because here, you are definitely in close quarters, and will assuredly rub elbows with your neighbors. I am struck by the simplicity of it all, and the friendliness of those popping in and out. Mostly, I keep staring at the blank wall with the single ice pick hanging alone, up for all to see. I would like to think it is what small town folk do, keep something like this handy in case some shyster tries to skip his bill or cheats the owner. You grab the pick and slam it through the offenders hand so that he is stuck to the table until the transaction is completed. Sadly, I was informed that it is simply to chip off ice in the cooler below. Leonora is like the mom of the village, and she makes the best huevos rancheros you will ever eat. Promise. She comes out and meets us after we eat, and stands politely next to her cooler and laughs her funny laugh. She is immediately likeable…and somehow reminds me of my brother-in-law.

The ice pick

After breakfast we tour the town. Ray and Lourdes take us around the village and show us all the ins and outs and who is who. It is a beautiful day and we have a wonderful set of tour guides. I feel like I fit right in, people stop and chat and joke with Ray. I feel like no one will bother us because they all like Ray and Lourdes. In a sense, I feel like we are very welcomed guests. They take us up and down, through alleys and over small bridges. We see each corner of the place. A Mexican wearing the mandatory cream colored straw cowboy hat and perma-press jeans sits atop a white horse. “That is Chuy” says Ray. “He’s very proud of his horse. He can make it do all sorts of tricks. You will probably see him performing while you are here”. Chuy smiles, showing his two front gold teeth. He tips his hat to Ray and they exchange greetings. He sits so proud and watches our every move. He obviously wants to see the awe in our faces. I smile and keep moving.

The village

The square

We sit for a bit on the square, and watch the locals and the recently arrived tourists. They wander around and are most definitely spotted by Chuy. To him, this is a brand new audience. We peep in some shops and see what the locals are selling. The tip is that the local honey is quite good. Personally, there really is nothing that enticing that you don’t see anywhere else while snooping around Mexico. Same caca different puebla.

Ray & Winston

If it is a donkey, it must be Mexico

Is this odd to you? So 'un' PC

Dentist office for those who have too many Negritos.

Ray greets a neighbor

Neighbor checks me out.

Lourdes keeps on about hiking up to the orchard. Thankfully, Ray takes control and offers to drive us instead, insisting that the newbies may not want to hike over an hour to stare at peach trees. We pile in the van and twist and turn and bump and grind our way up the mountain to where the road splits. We take the shorter path and Ray stops the van and proclaims “This is it!” Weeds. Oh, and a dirt road that ends right in front of us. Ray then waves us onward and we get the lowdown on the orchard. Once you walk a bit, you see over the valley. It is beautiful! This is definitely a nice place, and will be even nicer when they finish getting the land in order and cleaned up. Ray is awfully proud of the progress of the barbed wire and stone wall being re-laid. Just like a proud king, he smiles as he looks over his land and then says we should go and pick some peaches off the trees. Nah. We opt to sit on the new stone wall and watch Ray and Lourdes go and pick peaches. We get introduced to the local mosquito variety while sitting here too. These bites will prove to be very itchy and annoying and grow exponentially if you scratch them.

The couple that picks together...

a man and his peaches.

...more peaches!

After grabbing a load of peaches, Ray and Lourdes come back and Ray tells us to make room for the workers, as he offered them a ride back down the mountain. As we wait, ray hands us each a peach and tells us to savor the flavor. “Man!” he says as juice dribbles out his mouth, “That is a peach! No pesticides, this is pure nature man!” The workers wobble don the path and we say hello. Nice folks. We shake the old man’s hand and then his son, who shyly and limply shakes our hands in succession. We ride down the hill, smiling at the workers and they smile back, even throwing in a nod here and there.

After our tour of the town and the orchard, we decide to go and buy a few things we need. Ray and Lourdes have some business to tend to and we agree to meet them later at their house for dinner.

By the days end, it is such a welcomed event to walk onto Ray and Lourdes’ place to smiles and a few bottles of wine and tequila. Ray is crazy about his food and drink, and cannot wait to shove a shot of the local brew into your hands. Lourdes, always smiling, lays out a nice spread of snacks. Nuts (again!) and a few types of local cheeses to munch on. Oh-and don’t forget the peaches…because Ray won’t let you forget! He loves his peaches. We sit and have a drink while dinner is prepared. The beauty of this is that not only are we mingling and talking, but doing it all outside! The kitchen is outside the house. This will also prove to be a very wonderful thing. It just adds to the intimacy of the evening to sit out in the cool air and view the garden, at the same time being able to cook! You can watch the water boil and the flowers bloom at the same time! Truly, this setting could make almost any meal a night to remember.

In the kitchen

Andreas, pre-dinner jitters

A good time was had by all. As we get up to walk back to our place, ray hands us a flashlight and a brief set of directions. We look at one another as we stand outside the door, equipped with a buzz and a single flashlight. Now we must recall our afternoon tour and find our way back to our place through the unlit village. The stone streets are slippery thanks to the heavy fog that has set in with nightfall. We waddle a bit and do a few slips, but we do manage to wind back up the hill to where we are staying. We can see light peeking out from below the heavy wooden shudders, and the dogs start to bark with excitement with the realization that we did not forget about them.

Before the lights go out, a close inspection is given to the bed for the uninvited local guests. Once the light is out, and we lay there in this very dark place, and take in all we have seen throughout the day, and listen to the sound of the mountains.