Puerto Vallarta 2016

El centro Puerto Vallarta has not changed much since we spent the year at Casa los Rapidos in 1996, but the Baughans have been here so often lately that they are quite at home and were able to show me some new places and restaurants.  I walked for hours by myself, revisiting beaches and streets I remembered and losing my way on ones I didn't, but that's what I like to do.  I rarely feel lost when I don't know where I am and I usually find some interesting new things.  At least, like Columbus, I have the illusion of finding them because nobody has led me to them; although they are manifestly not new to the people who have been there for ages.  Vallarta still seems safe to me, the streets are bright and lived in even at night when families of many generations walk out in the pleasant air until much later than I do.  The new young 'narcos' that made the news in Canada with their brutal killings here a year or so ago seem to have moved on.  The news from and the weather in a place where one is not always seem to be worse than they are where one is.  I'm here now; all's well.

On the night of the full moon, I took the Baughans to dinner.  They chose the places we would go to so that we could experience the setting of the sun into the Bahia de Banderas and then turn around to watch the moon rise over the Sierra Madres as Jim and I had done years ago.  'Fue une exito!'  It happened as I had hoped.  The sun and moon played their roles as well asMaggie Smith ever could, the margarita was tasty and 'fuerte' and the meal delicious.

Last night Carolyn made a wonderful dinner.  Danbrook walked over and then broke into the secure condo area where Baughans live because the intercom system wasn't working so he couldn't get our attention.  He's still hard to hold down; he walks kilometres every day, and the climbing and jumping he had to do to get over the fences and into the main courtyard of the condo was impressive.  A couple that the Baughans know well joined us and my last evening with them was fun. 

Baughans at our sunset bar

Sunset last night from Baughan's deck

A skim boarding competition that I watched one day from Olas Altas beach

The sign marking Calle Easy has worn some since we were there with Brian and Cathy

Calgary airport

It's a clear blue day in Calgary, and I'm sitting with my back to the window so that the brilliant sun is warming my neck and not making my eyes water.  The only part of the airport that I can walk around in is pretty small and generic.  On the West Jet flight from Kelowna we were offered "sweet or salty" and water.  I chose salty, which turned out to be a mini bag of sesame, bran bits, the kind my Lycee colleague Maud's husband used to call cat food.  The food offered here is pretty much the same, by the smell of it, tempting hot salty oil and sweet buttery popcorn.  May gave me 4 of my favourite granola bars from The Bean Scene in Vernon as a farewell gift; I'll eat one of them soon.  As John drove me to the Kelowna airport, I 'treated' him to breakfast at Tim's so I'm not hungry yet.  Driving each other to the airport and treating the driver to something from Tim's is becoming a tradition for Mo, John and me.  I had a dark roast with a shot of espresso and double cream.  Before we board at 2:10pm, I think I'll buy a coffee to have with the granola bar.  I'll be wired by the time I reach PV.  

Maybe being wired wouldn't be so bad.  I certainly wasn't alert enough to remember to put my watch ahead an hour as we landed in Calgary and consequently almost missed the plane for PV.  As I sipped a latte and gazed into space, I was jolted to attention by the sound of someone trying to pronounce the name Van de Vyvere over the intercom.  I was one of 4 people being paged in a last call to board the plane.  I jumped up, left the latte on the floor, picked up my bags and dashed to the gate, just in time to walk the gauntlet of righteous, irritated faces already in their places to my seat near the middle of the plane.  

Once in PV, I followed the advice Carolyn had reminded me of to avoid being overcharged for a taxi to town.  I pulled my small bag out the door, took two left turns, walked on the overpass to the far side of the highway and caught a city cab to Baughan's, where I now sit on the balcony, overlooking the Bay of Banderas.  

It's lovely in Vallarta, as always.  Baughan's place is perfectly situated one block above where Jim and I stayed on our last visit.  We have shared good chats, meals and walks.  I was with Archie and Marilyn for their last day in Mexico; it was fun walking with them around the areas where we lived when we were first here.  I have had my initial visit to the dentist and will have one more.  Dr. Michel is so busy now that my next appointment had to be for a time when I was planning to be in La Penita, so I will have to leave there a day early, but lucky as I sometimes am, Dick and Ellen have offered me their spare room for two nights; Baughans will have other guests at that time.  It was wonderful to see Dick and Ellen again, back at the Plaza Sta. Maria.  They look great; one of their few concessions to age is that they are no longer walking up to an apartment on the fourth floor.  They have a very comfortable place on the first floor.  As they were the ones who introduced Jim and me to some of the people and places we most liked in PV, it felt good to sit back, chat about times shared in the past and enjoy a couple of Ricardo's margaritas and Ellena's snacks.  

A cow on one of the walking streets in PV

Archie and Marilyn on the Malecon. 

Jan. 11, 2016

Well, the new year on 26th Street has not totally swept out the old, thankfully.  The family drama has not had any drastic plot alterations, the cast and setting are the same, but there have been scenes of sound and fury as well as the odd belly laugh.  I have heard quite a bit lately about downsizing, which I did when I moved here.  It's a very practical concept, well suited to my nature and our times.  The world can no longer accommodate our excessive accumulation and waste.  But the day to day, 24/7 reality of living at close quarters is a radical learning experience. Now that Jay, May and the girls are sharing the house with me, we are discovering that the size of the place is less important than the attitude of the people within it.  On good days, I open my bedroom door and greet whoever I encounter in the rest of the house with a happy, "Howdy neighbour"; on a bad day we all feel like prisoners in our own rooms; when we meet beyond our doors it's awkward.  Two teenage girls, two young parents and one old Lola are a match that was made someplace other than heaven. At least, that's how it seems at times, but at others it's the contrary; we joke and laugh and eat together in harmony.  We have no choice but to make a serious effort to get to know ourselves and to understand and respect each other.  When you live alone or with people of your own age and inclinations or at a distance from others, it's easy to ignore these things and to become convinced of your own 'rightness.'  We have been experiencing growing pains, but I think we are all improving, and I'm happy to discover that I can still learn a few new tricks.  It's not easy, but we are all giving it our best efforts shot, most of the time.  We're family after all; if we can't live together in relative peace and calm, what hope is there for the world.  

Speaking of family, here are two pictures I've had since I visited Ottawa this summer.  The first is of the lovely young Caroline with her baby, Gabe.  The second is of me with Gabe's son.