Grocery Madness

We needed some staples for the house so we headed on down to one of the local grocery stores.  We sauntered about taking in what was available.  The produce room was of particular interest to me.  Nicely refrigerated and has the feel that someone with a machete in hand just dropped everything off.  It gave me the opportunity to learn that limes here are actually closer to a walnut in size than they are to a lemon -- fascinating.  I don't know if it is a climate thing or if it's just that we genetically modify ours, or what.

We found many variations of picante sauce but surprisingly pretty much no options in the salsa department.  Unless of course you want to count Salsa Inglés.  But that would probably be pretty disappointing with chips.  Actually, there was this jarred stuff, but understandably Nic balked and we passed on it with hopes of finding something fresher another time.  Instead we picked up some chips, avocados, onions, and tomatoes.  For future reference, the local stores keep the freshest or ripest items up by the register.  Our last unripe avocado in the trash can can attest to that.  

Hunting in the breakfast aisle Nic made and odd discovery:

But what are they?  What are they for?  All we know is we need a huge bag of them!  Checking out of the grocery store was an interesting feat.  We stood in line only later to discover that the real line appeared to be to our right.  I shifted over to that line for safe measure.  Only to discover that in this store there were no real lines.  Only collections of people that want to buy things.  A bunch of locals had been treating the checkout process much like they treat the gringos on the waves.  It's not first come first serve here -- it's first to cut the gringos in line first served.  Apparently the "system" is to slap your stuff on the counter as quickly as possible as the cashier haphazardly throws things through the scanner.  I'm not certain, but I'm pretty sure some things may have been rung up twice while others not at all.  Anyways, we got out of there with our loot.

We later discovered another grocery store that had a little more sense of order to it, with like, real actual lines and stuff.

Arbo de Guano de Iguana

Not 25 feet from the front steps of our apartment is a big tree right next to the road. On our first day here as we were walking around, a downpour started and as we were walking under the tree it began dropping huge chunks of green guano upon us. At the time we weren't sure what their source was, the theory was maybe monkeys, though we hadn't heard any. (monkey, 'mono' in spanish, imagine a monkey wearing a monocle says our linkwords Spanish book)

Today as we were walking back from breakfast we spotted the real source, the tree is just covered in Iguanas of varying sizes and colors. From big giant old grey ones to younger green guys, the tree seems to be the local hangout for our prehistoric friends.

Somehow knowing the source makes the guano less threatening, but you better be sure we'll be watching our heads and giving the tree a wide bearth as we walk by, especially during the common afternoon squalls.

The Setting

This being my first attempt at surfing my arms feel less like flesh and more like overcooked pasta.  

Since I can't always be surfing*, thankfully much fun can be had just taking in the sites.  Sayulita is nested in a nice protected cove which makes it easy to take in the surfing and the coastline at the same time.  I have never been to any part of Mexico, so I'm equally excited to see the giant alien looking fronds littering the runoffs leading to the ocean as I am the crashing surf and the brown surfers who mock it.  I need to spend more time hanging down on the beach.   One problem has remained since I arrived: Necesito la guitarra!  I've heard rumors of an old man that peddles some cheap guitars on the beach but I have yet to run in to him.  I guess I need to spend more time on the sand -- not just in the water or in a bed.

So long as you find a nice stretch of beach that hasn't already been "decorated" by the very well established canine population (think dog doo cooking in the hot sun), it's possible to sit back, relax, and see some pretty fantastic surfage by the locals.  I enjoy their company much more from the beach (with Marc's 300mm lens) than when out on the water competing for waves (for which I am always the last in line).  These guys can surf any wave and make everything look so easy in the process.

*For me its closer to a flushing of the sinuses.

The Surf Report from Seattle WA

While I missed the initial group departure, I wasn't far behind. Finally on the plane, I reflected back on my bittersweet last days in corporate America, marked by the launch of my final marketing campaign for an unamed social network, the use of words like "knowledge transfer" and "departure communication plan", and flip-flops, lots of flip-flops. Landing in PV, a sola, was like a dream come true, the busy mercados, gaggles of merchants and careening buses-of-imminent-death packed with a friendly people who humor my Spanish recollections like I humor the quasi-English utterances from my 1 year old nephew.

"Nic wanted me to tell you they're heading back," Jen told me within minutes of arriving in Sayulita. Hot and tired, I dumped my travel pack onto the floor. "He said Washington surf was better, and he could get more work done from Seattle. So they just took the last bus back to town."

My heart sank, "But, he hates the Washington surf. He flew all the way out here just to turn back around the day I get here?"

I questioned this so-called-vacation, looking at the stormy sea below as she tells me "Said he had to go back. He had no doubts you'd still find a way to have a fabulous time. I was going to go back with them, but thought someone should tell you where we'd gone. Anyway, I'm sorry, I gotta run too..." She vanishes.

I awake with a start. Palapa thatched walls turn to beige drywall. Pools of turquoise water evaporate into my brown-green lawn. Relief. It was just a nightmare. It's ok. I'm still in Seattle. It's ok? I'm still in Seattle?!

Ugh!!! I hit snooze and fall back to bed.

Just two days to freedom, four days to Mexico. Oh wait, this is a blog was about actually surfing Mexico, not dreaming...

Say hi to Jose!

Jose our new friend

Upon first arriving at our house, we noticed a lazy, and I mean LAZY, dog basking in the heat and humidity on the ground floor apartment. We said hi, he batted an eye open to check us out, but didn't budget otherwise as we carried our bags upstairs. We ended up passing him a few more times that evening as we explored around and grabbed dinner, each time greeted by with one eye opened, as if to say, "I see you" but never more.


That all changed this morning as we walked down to the beach. The dog, now christened 'Jose' by Jen, decided that maybe if we were going to be here a while he should get to know us. And so he did. Through the town we walked, scoping out the town for tortillerias and grocery stores, and all the while Jose followed us.

One oddity in Mexico is that apparently dogs have the right of way on roads. More than once we'd be yelling at Jose, sometimes in English, sometimes in broken Spanish to get out of the way as a car approached. And more often than not, Jose would stand there obliviously. Once, a pickup truck seemed to 'tap' him a bit, just a gentle nudge to please move over as it tried to work its way through the so called road.


Jose followed us throughout, and ultimately right back to the house. Later in the day we went out to get some cash at an ATM (btw, the universal use of $ as pesos always makes confirming your $3,000 withdrawal a nerve racking experience). Jose, as is now usual, followed along and right into the grocery store where the ATM was. Perhaps this was no coincidence though, as just in front of the ATM, in giant opened 100lb bags, dried dog food was on display. Jose stood by it, not whining, but perhaps in that psychic dog way merely suggesting another purchase while we were there.

We resisted this time, but I can't imagine we'll manage to leave without at least a goodbye feast for the old guy.

Arriving in Mexico

Nic is a far better writer than I, but I will kick things off.  

Flying to Mexico is surprisingly easy.  A couple 2.5-3 hour flights and you're there.  With a little layover in the middle to break things up and stretch the legs that worked out better than expected.  We had slightly more time to stretch with our legs than necessary since we ended up flying out on the backup-backup plane (hey, as long as it takes off and lands okay, then I'm cool).  For our troubles we were allowed a complimentary beverage once we were in the air -- you see, with the economy the way it is, of course water in coach isn't free any more.

We landed in Puerto Vallarta and outside of it feeling like a steam bath with no exit and all the Mexicans, it didn't feel that different.  That is until we stepped out of the airport.  I found it quite shocking that even in a city like Vallarta there were lots of street vendors and busted up buildings.  We then took a $20 bus ride north to Sayulita.  Ok, ok, so pesos use the $ symbol too and that's actually only a $2 USD ride -- which is pretty dang cheap considering it was an hour long ride.  Nic handled the finances which is good since later in Sayulita I tried to give a girl $40 USD (and later my entire wallet) for a latte.  Though I have to say it was cool to have the ATM tell me that I could buy a house with the balance in my checking account..  if only it were USD.

On our ride down a native started speaking with us in English and was very friendly welcoming us to the country.  He also clued us in that there was no sense getting used to the 2 hour time difference since crossing from Jalisco into Nayarit we were getting 1 hour back anyways.  As the bus came out of the winding jungly rode and into Sayulita, all those National Geographic videos I watched started to pay dividends.  This town met all my wonderfully gringo expectations of a small Mexican village.  From the mariachi band playing in the stands of a small baseball stadium to the bus driver with nerves of steel driving through a dirt road (which is generous calling it that since it had more potholes than road).  It was so narrow that cars were close on both sides as the bus violently shifted from right to left.  And the dogs.. wow, there's a lot of dogs.. with nuts.. everywhere.

Our place is pretty dang nice..  We are on the top floor of a three unit house and it has lots of covered outdoor space (with the requisite hammock) and a view of the beach.  I can definitely see why people take up residence here. 

It's currently the tail end of the rainy season but its still beautiful when stormy.  We spent some time of our first day just playing in the ocean while watching lighting strike around the cove.  I have to say, the dynamics of the water motion and temperature are pretty unusual.  Strong rip tides shuttle you around and usually in unwanted directions.  To go with that, as you move about and the sets of waves come through the water around you shifts from a cool refreshing splash to feeling like the heron next to let go of a full bladder.

We've got a lot more to post later, but I'm late for my siesta and I'm going to need it for tonight's surfing adventures.