Trip report - Days 5-6 of 8


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Posted by Linda on October 06, 2001 at 12:49:12:

9/26 - DAY 5: Sunshine! This would be a full 9 hours of mostly sunny skies. But with the rain went the gentle waves. The surf is pounding, the undertow is towing. Hubby comes back from his morning swim looking dazed, minus one water sock and a mask. Those items were sacrificed to Neptune in return for a safe but jarring return to the beach. He adds another phrase to his daily mantras: "I wish I had a boogie board." If Hubby gets cautious in the water, then I am downright intimidated. "Maybe it's a good day for that horseback ride," I say, and we set out down the road to find Roberto, the horse rental guy.

The sun fries our noses on the walk toward the enramadas. We are sweltering. "Can you imagine riding a horse in this heat?" I ask. "Not really," answers he, which is okay because Roberto is nowhere to be found anyway. Hubby recites his mantra: "As long as we're here, wanna eat?"

We spent some time with Dona Laura of Casa del Encanto that evening. She is delightful. We loved passing through the village with her and watching her greet the children in English. ("Good evening, Alfredo!" "Good evening, Miss Laura!" "How are you, Amelia?" "I am fine, Miss Laura.") We told her about our trek down the dirt road outside of Petatlan and she became quite serious. "You went down that road?" Yeah, we did, I answered, but the gate was closed so we couldn't get to the beach. "The gate was closed ... that's interesting. That's not a good place to explore on your own; it's like the wild west out there. There's a lot of drug trafficking and bandits. It's really beautiful but you really need to go with a group." Hubby gives me a Ricky Ricardo look (Luuucyyyy! You got some 'splaining to do... see what cudda happen?) Oops. I make a mental note to add "hire a guide" to the 'splore part of my agenda.

9/27 - DAY 6: Sunny and hot again today. The water is still muy scary, so we try searching again for Roberto and the horses. The palapa lady told us he would be back in an hour. An hour later, around 11:00, we actually drive the 1/8 mile down the road -- it's that hot. Roberto still hasn't shown up and it's getting hotter by the minute. Hubby reaches over and squeezes my hand ... "Next time, honey ... we'll do it next time." I sigh ... I've missed plenty of first times by putting something off until next time. We've got a better chance with this one, though -- we're definitely returning to Zihua.

It's our last day at Barra de Potosi, so we pack up return to La Ropa. That beach is as wild and wooly as Potosi. We sit at La Perla and watch some tourists get munched by the waves. Hubby begins reciting his alternate mantra: I wish I had a boogie board ... "Why don't you go rent one," I ask. "It's pretty rough out there today. Maybe tomorrow," he lies.

That evening we went into town and got stuck in a traffic jam caused by slow-moving trucks with giraffes in the back of one and a camel in another (??!!). Was there a circus in town? Is Zihua starting a zoo? Never did find out why.

We stopped at JJ's to catch up on the news (CNN). It's totally empty when we arrive but inside of an hour the place is filling up. A Bay Area couple sits next to us -- they are on their honeymoon -- and a lively conversation ensues. Did I mention we only intended to have one margarita, but that intention was history? Did I also fail to mention I was sitting between Hubby and the couple? He's a contractor and Hubby is a building inspector so they had a lot to talk about. Loudly. I'm trying to converse with his wife, but my head is about to explode. What happened -- It was so quiet in here a little while ago! By the time we leave, Hubby is best friends with half the bar, and my head is throbbing. Not that I'm having a bad time - quite the contrary - just that it's not a good idea to sit between Hubby and the other side of his conversation. I already know this, but somehow I was pasted to the chair and couldn't get out in time. I was anxious to unstick my backside from the bar stool, so we went in search of food. Salad for me, you-know-what for Meat Boy.




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