Travelling by bus and van

I’m on the bus just outside of Manzanillo heading back to P.V.  I had to go second- class because the only first class bus left at 12:23a.m.  Danny and Rita came to the stop with me.  It was sad to leave them because we had had a lot of fun together, but so far the trip back has gone better than the one to Manzanillo.  Leaving Vallarta was a fiasco.  I had over planned.  Ken accompanied me in the dark at 6:15 down the hill to the bus stop to catch the city bus to the main station on the far north side of town.  That was the only part that went well.  The bus to Manzanillo left the station about 15 min. late and drove slowly through town to the place close to the Baughan’s that I had been told it might not stop at.  It did and spent about 20 min. there picking up a motley collection of locals and gringos who hadn’t had the sense to be excessively concerned about missing the bus that I had had.  By the time we pulled out, it was 9:10 and all I had to show for my early rising was a free lunch, a Bimbo bunwich that could have been squeezed into a ball the size of a small apricot, a bottle of water and 2 chocolate chip cookies.  The late boarders didn’t get this freebie.  For the first half hour the sound from the kid’s movie that was playing blared through the bus in spite of the fact that there were earphones at each seat and there had been an announcement informing us of all the advantages of Primera Plus, including the fact that we could listen in comfort to either the movie or a choice of 2 music stations.  I was telling myself that it passed for a Spanish lesson, but one gringo got aggravated enough to go up and insist that it be lowered, and it was.  In contrast, today’s 2^nd class bus left on time and is well air conditioned and relatively quiet, just a background of Mexican music accompanied by the driver who snaps his fingers and beats the rhythm on the casing of his gear shift stick.  He also seems to be distracted by a young woman sitting in the front seat who laughs at almost everything he says. The ticket was cheaper, and I won’t miss the lunch, so I’m happy to this point.  The trip is supposed to take 2 hours more than first class, but as the latter was about 11/2 hours late, we’ll see what the future holds.

The scenery on the way down was not spectacular until we neared Barra de Navidad.  Then there were moments when you could see the ocean and the Sierra Madre Occidental.  The fields on either side for miles were coconut palms waving high over banana plantations, many bunches were already wrapped in newspaper and then plastic. 

Manzanillo is a big city, around 250,000 people, that extends for miles along the ocean.  It has about 3 bays with peninsulas and 2 or 3 main tourist sections, separated at one point by a thriving seaport, the largest on Mexico’s west coast. Danny and Rita’s condo is located high up on the 2^nd and smallest bay.  From the balcony you get a wonderful view of Las Hadas, one of the first big luxury hotels built in the early 70s.  Some scenes in the movie “Ten” were shot there. It’s fallen on hard times lately like many of Mexico’s tourist areas, and a Quebec couple we met on our tour to Colima told us that there were only 30 people in it at the moment.  The video of “Ten” was in the condo, and Danny and Rita watched it before I got there.  They gave me a fast showing of the high points which were quite ludicrous, especially one in which Dudley Moore tries to cross a strip of hot sand like the one we had burned our feet on the day we went to what is probably the best beach in Manzanillo, Miramar.

Danny suggested a tour to Colima, the capital of the state of Colima, which we took on Wednesday.  It was well worth it.  The guide was a bit of a martinet, and the scratchy sound system in the van combined with his accent which included an ‘e’ in front of every word beginning with ‘s’ and an almost complete failure to pronounce the ends of words made it difficult for everyone to understand him.  I had the advantage of sitting beside him, but even that didn’t make his every comment completely clear.  He did tell us some interesting information as we walked around; though, and we went to places we would not have seen otherwise.  The highlights were a ‘Magic Hill’ where you can put the car in neutral and roll up what appears to be,an incline.  Apparently the reason is a magnetic pull caused by the movement of magma under the area.  There are two volcanoes just beyond Colima, one of which is active and emits puffs of white fumes. They are about four thousand metres high and form a spectacular backdrop to the city, especially when you are in the archeological dig because the remains of the pyramids have only forest between them and the volcanoes.  We also visited a museum and a colonial ranch that had been the family home of a famous artist; we even had about 40 min. of free time to shop.  This is when I did something that could only be done in Mexico.

I went to a pharmacy because the cold that I have had since Jan.4 was finally wearing me down.  I was producing litres of ‘phlegma in the tubes’, as Marissa Barenson said in the movie, “Cabaret”, and now it was getting dark and causing a pain in my sinuses that felt like a minor toothache.  I wouldn’t have thought of doing this on a tour except that ours had begun with a trip to a pharmacy so that one of the women could buy Imodium for her husband.  At the time I thought that this was just another example of the many being inconvenienced by the lack of planning of the few, but now the idea of visiting a pharmacy on a tour seemed reasonable.  I couldn’t get an antibiotic without a prescription, but they suggested that I go next door to see the doctor, which I did.  I got right in, had an examination, got a prescription and was buying 3 different medications within 15 min.  I have no idea what I’m taking, but the whole thing including consultation cost only 225 pesos, and at the rate of 12 pesos to the dollar, that’s quite a deal.  I even had time to shop a bit and would have bought a dress like the one Caroline and I had seen in PV the week before if they had had it in black.  Then I walked quickly to our appointed gathering place lest I upset our easily irritated guide. I already feel much better, so thanks to Danny’s research and suggestion that we take the tour to Colima, I’m in much better health and much more well informed about one region of Mexico.

I’m safe back with the Baughans and Danbrook, in spite of the fact that the driver was even more distracted when the girl who laughed at his jokes got off and a younger one with the largest and least dressed breasts I’ve ever seen replaced her in the front seat.  Fortunately she fell asleep before the last 50km into Puerto Vallarta began because that’s a very narrow and twisting descent, which our man did with complete concentration and at a fairly good speed.  I was much more aware of the beauty of the approach from the south to Puerto Vallarta on the return than I had been on the drive to Manzanillo.  Highway 200 winds down between the ocean and lush hills, with fences dripping in bright orange and dark green honeysuckle bordering the properties on the sea side at many points as you get close to town.  I got out at the right stop this time and walked to the condo.  Second class took the same time as first and was more enjoyable.