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Escrito por ZihuaRob desde 220.127.116.11 (dsl-189-178-160-122-dyn.prod-infinitum.com.mx) el día jueves, 05 de marzo, 2009 a las 10:51:58 horas :
En respuesta a: The Edge escrito por Lalo desde 18.104.22.168 (S01060018f8599acc.ed.shawcable.net) el día miércoles, 04 de marzo, 2009 a las 20:55:11 horas :
I first showed up here in August of '74 when I was 16 (no math test here) with my mother, my brother and our afghan hound Cleet. Got as far as Acapulco by plane where they wouldn't let us fly our dog the rest of the trip. Between Mexico City and Acapulco airports I was relieved of my dartboard, 8-track player and tapes and Olympus camera. And the day wasn't over yet. The drive at night from Aca to Z was a real thrill. Speeding in our rental car around winding coastal mountain roads at 65mph and somehow miraculously zigzagging through herds of cows. Military checkpoints in pitch black darkness. Finally seeing the signs for the Sotavento-Catalina at the edge of Zihuatanejo some four and a half hours after leaving Acapulco.
Met Gerald making a phone call our first morning. And also that first morning I was awestruck by the beauty from our room's terrace. After breakfast we hooked up with Margo who took us to don Chebo's new bungalow (where Hotel Rossy now stands) which became our home for a few weeks until he finished building a larger 3-room bungalow near the water just past where the Gaviota is today. The road that goes uphill there now was just a footpath and an arroyo back then. None of the homes on that hillside were visible through the canopy of trees. How sad that tradition wasn't preserved (but everyone here nowadays like to flaunt their wealth, unlike those halcyon days).
Macaws flew up and down the beach at dawn and dusk. And what few tourists there were (this was the height of rainy season) scrambled for their cameras and oooohed and ahhhhed.
Met some kid from DF who flew his own plane. We hiked the coast to Playa Larga one day and discovered the new airport under construction. Forgot to take a camera or water or even good shoes. Never thought to take money, and after walking from the airport out to the coastal highway the bus driver gave us a freebie ride back to civilization. What a story to tell that day!
Hung out a lot with Paco Ayvar and met my future wife, Lupita, one day on the beach in front of Calpulli. She and her friend, Carmelita, were the ONLY Mexican girls wearing bathing suits, and crocheted bikinis at that! It was love'n'lust at first sight. Unfortunately tragedy in her family later put our romance on hold and I didn't see her again for 15 years.
Also spent a lot of time at the Calpulli where they let us run a tab as well as at La Madera playing frisbee with Luco. Evenings at El Chololo and the Kau-Kan were the height of night life. And all the beautiful people were there.
Met some fun Italians staying at Owen's place and spent a few long days playing backgammon with everyone out there at Owen's paradise on Las Gatas.
I had known and dated Lauren Hutton's sister in Florida, but she turned into a snob like her sister when I ran into her here a thousand miles later. Funny what attention does to some people.
Crazy but lovable Gay showed up (we knew her from St. Croix) and did ballet with her scarves on the beaches. Met now longtime amie Jocelyne who learned English in Mexico and learned how to drive her VW bug on the way down from the Big Apple. Danced to The Stones at the grand opening of the rooftop bar at Posada El Caracol with Isabel, Margo, Stella, Ashley and other wild women. Wore all those girls out dancing to The Stones! ;~)
Took a little side trip to Cholula by pick-up with my mother's artist boyfriend. It was an enchanting little university town back then, and the new road to Puebla had just opened. Nothing on it the whole way. Beautiful countryside the whole way, but sure was glad to get back to Z.
Our last 3 months here we lived in El Almacén where Puerto Mío now sits, after living our first 3 months at La Ropa it was a big change in scenery. The only way to get around was walking, and I walked the entire circuit of the bay at least twice a day. Town for licuado in the morning, La Madera and La Ropa for beers, clams and pescado the rest of the day. And a coconut sweet for the walk home.
Hans the Olympic skier and his friends became regular companions, and we cared for them at their Madera Beach bungalow when they all came down with Hep.
Unfortunately my last two weeks here I was hit hard with dysentary. That's also when they began building the NEW ROAD to El Almacén. After spending a few days at Raúl 3 Marías, we caught the bus to Acapulco and then to DF. Getting from La Noria to the bus station I looked like a burro with a huge collapsible steel dog cage on my head balanced with various bags of stuff. Spent much of both legs of that 12-hour total bus trip in the bathroom.
Doc fixed me up in DF, though it took the best part of a year to get over that malady.
We crossed the border at Brownsville and spent a night there listening to the news about the latest adventures of Patty Hearst. My destiny took me to c-c-c-cold Boulder in February while the rest of my family went to Guatemala. It was so cold I could hardly speak to tell the taxi driver where to take me, yet after 2 weeks I was shoveling snow in a t-shirt like an old timer and drinking what would soon become known as Celestial Seasonings tea, but certainly wishing I had never left Zihuatanejo.
It took fifteen years to make it back... but I'm still here! And I married that beautiful Mexican girl in the crocheted bikini.
There's obviously a lot more to this story, but from the git-go I knew that life on the Edge was exactly right for me, and for some odd reason I felt more "at home" in Mexico than I did in the continental USA.