Memories of Mexico

Well hello there, Puerto Vallarta. In the spirit of full disclosure, I actually took this photo on the way out, but it works better for the story this way. Yes, this year’s S.A.D. treatment was again undergone in an all-inclusive resort fashion. Which makes up in relaxation what it lacks in adventure. Really, it does.….

At the glamorous Riu Jalisco, you receive replacement towels in the form of mammals with sticker faces. I proudly displayed my growing cotton menagerie until we realized there were no towels left to dry ourselves. Not that drying anything in that climate is remotely conceivable anyway. If you set a bone out on a table in Puerto Vallarta it would somehow end up sweating. Still, I eventually dismembered the animals and put them to good use. RIP.

Speaking of animals, I felt a real kinship with this bird in particular. Something about the way he possessively gripped this prized cookie struck me as oddly familiar. I get it, blackbird, it’s not fun to share. Not when it comes to cookies.

Against the advice of my mother the worry-wart, we cabbed downtown after tiring of buffets and tequila shots to view life outside the all-inclusive bracelet (and track down non-drowsy Dramamine for my whale-watching pleasure). This must be one of those gangbangers my mom warned me about, the ones that were going to kidnap and kill us for purposes of gang initiation. No joke. Last year it was “Mind the water!” This year it was “Mind the murder!” because there aren’t any gangs in Chicago.

The most suspicious characters I came across downtown were made of metal. Puerto

spooky lady climbing the wall of a downtown watering hole.

gorgeous tree, and yet the stuff of fairytale nightmares. Look at how the branches drip onto the ground. I wonder how many years it took to grow like this.

Back on the Dramamine hunt… I really enjoyed soaking in all the colors. And the fumes! The bus system is alive and well in Puerto Vallarta, but I got the distinct scents that Mexican vehicles are not held to the highest of emission standards. Get it? Scents. Dork.

On the subject of color, I loved these creations made out of colorful beads. A little gaudy, yeah, but I wanted one.

I never did find any non-drowsy Dramamine. Apparently it’s reserved for wimpy Americans who can’t hold their downers. Not even this pharmacy giant came through. But that’s okay, the smell alone in there made it well worth the visit. That’s right, “Pharmacy Guadalajara” doubled as a bakery. It was a little weird to see girls pulling trays of freshly baked pastries out of an industrial oven sitting in the middle of the pharmacy. But the smell was very persuasive. I was so distracted I almost walked out of Pharmacy Guadalajara with the variety of Dramamine one must insert in the rear end. With appropriate gesturing, the lady behind the counter enlightened me to my error, and I made the switcheroo. Whale watching isn’t worth all that, now. But it is worth some well calculated planning.

in the hours leading up to a leisurely boat outing, i might've been confused for a patient prepping to go in for a spinal fusion. If I haven’t mentioned it before (I have), I get motion sickness at the drop of a hat. The sort that makes me feel like I’M SLOWLY DYING. Over the years I’ve learned how to cope, and when it comes to the queen mother of catalysts (the boat), I cannot overemphasize the importance of timing. There’s fasting and pill-popping to be done, all at the right time, and once I’m on the boat I require a strict focus. On the horizon. It seems like too much trouble, but I love anything water, and so a little life-flashing-before-my-eyes-nausea isn’t going to stop me. Besides, when done right Dramamine works. This is why I’m in love with it. That’s right, I’m in love. With Dramamine. It’s sexy.

Apparently Mexican seagulls are the laughing hyena of the water world, and they cracked me up. This was the dingy we pulled behind us during our excursion. It also took us from the boat closer to the reef where we snorkeled. And oh-oh-oh, I actually saw some blue-footed boobies IN THE FEATHER hanging out on the reef alongside the hyena birds. Of course I didn’t have my camera in the dingy, so I was left to burn the boobies into my pathetic excuse for a memory. In the water I didn’t see much more than a blowfish and some scarily large fish circling me, but we had the chance to swim under a cave that opened out into a gorgeous cove, and that was really something to behold.

Back on the boat, I pushed my luck and actually ate a sandwich prepared by the boat's "chef." Later, I raised the sandwich some deelish guac, and later still I raised both with a few beers. This was unchartered territory for me and The Dram, and yet The Dram STILL PERFORMED. We’re getting married in the fall. But first… the money shot. Yee ole whale tail! We did indeed see a few whales, all to the tune of a big guy on the boat who couldn’t stop exclaiming how “bOOOOOtiful” everything was. He was right, but I’m not always into over articulation.

Adios Mexico! All in all, the trip was a grand escape. To give Foo a taste of what he missed while I was gone, I let him model the hat that I proudly haggled a local down from highway robbery to petty theft. It saw one day in the sun (and a few whales), but something tells me it won’t see much more than the inside of my apartment for some time. I know how you feel, hat.

1 comment:

Star Kicker said...

My old boyfriend was addicted to dram in the same way I am to Ambien - the one time he forgot we went deep sea fishing and he had to actually pull his drawers and crap off the side of the boat in front of everyone while vomiting into a grocery sack.

Glad your dram pulled through.