Posted from San Carlos, Sonora/ November ’16 (Thank you for your patience – busy summer.)
Feb. 2nd
We motored through the still morning waters of Banderas Bay into the harbor at La Cruz and the slip waiting for us at Marina Nayarit. It was a good slip, with a view of the breakwater where locals strolled on the lovely stone walkway. We scurried around doing boat chores and getting ready for the arrival of my sister, Erin, at 4 p.m. in Puerto Vallarta from Vancouver.
At 2:30 I walked up the sun-drenched street and caught the collectivo at the top of the main street. It was a joy to be on the familiar mini-van with easy-going, handsome and healthy Mexican people. Some of the women getting on said Buenos Tardes in greeting to the passengers and driver. The wind from the open window whipped my hair as the driver zoomed along the highway. I was stoked to see one of our favorite restaurants (El Coleguito) was still in business. When I got out at the airport stop, I paid my 18 pesos for the collectivo ride. (Somehow the drivers remember where you get on and know exactly how much you owe when you get out!)
I was so excited to have Erin coming for a visit! She texted to say she had landed and when I texted her back, she was happy to hear I was already at the airport. Her next text said customs might take a while. I stood at the outlet doors where the trickles, and sometimes streams, of arriving passengers walked past. The PV airport was an amazing place; it was my first time there and there were so many tourists arriving! There was some chaotic activity as locals tried to lure the gringos to their taxi or bar or hotel.
Finally I saw my sister; tall and athletic, her friendly face framed by long blond hair. Huge hugs and heartfelt gazes morphed into laughter as we realized we were really together in this beautiful foreign land. We walked outside to get a taxi and Erin noticed how hot it was. She had started her day in the wee hours in Whistler, and was wearing socks, long pants and a long-sleeved shirt. I suggested she change before we left the airport – we weren’t in a rush and she’d be so much more comfortable. So we back-tracked to the cool, clean, white-tiled restroom. Five minutes later she stepped out of the stall in shorts, tank top and sandals. All right – we were ready for the heat.
While I was waiting for Erin I had checked the “Authorized Taxi” prices in the airport and was scandalized and slightly amused when the lady checked her official-looking schedule and said 2 people to La Cruz would be 785 pesos. Wow! The cabbie I spoke to in La Cruz that morning told me 300 pesos to the airport but he couldn’t drive us back (the Puerto Vallarta airport is in a different state than La Cruz de Huanacaxle and requires a different license I think).
Outside, we talked to the gentleman at the “Authorized Taxi” stand and again the same price. So I said to the nice man, in my rustic Spanish, it’s only 300 pesos from La Cruz to here. He pointed across the road and told us to get a yellow cab. So Erin rolled her big suitcase as we walked along the airport sidewalk, up the ramp to the overpass and back down to the bus stop on the other side of the highway. We checked the buses and then walked back to where the yellow cabs were parked.
And there we met and hired the handsome Mexican taxi driver I had hoped we would have. He and I agreed on 350 pesos for the fare and we got in the cool, comfortable car. It was so lovely gliding along the good road to La Cruz. Our driver lit up with a huge smile when I asked him how long he had been driving taxi – for 10 years. He had three boys and seemed very nice.
On the drive I pointed out the tall, shapely domes of huge huanacaxle trees on either side of the highway – so beautiful. When we got to the marina, we thanked our driver and tipped him 50 pesos. Erin and I walked down to the gate at Dock 9 and on to Enchanté. Al had done a nice job of getting her cleaned and tidied and it was wonderful to welcome Erin to our floating home.
I loved looking around the marina (at the boats, palm trees, people walking and hanging on the breakwater) trying to see it through Erin’s eyes – her first time to mainland Mexico. We made fresh guacamole and sipped some tequila. We went for a walk on the malecon and enjoyed the sunset. The next day we strolled along the quiet streets together, absorbing the sights and smells, greeting people along the way. We ate guacamole, shrimp tacos, salsa fresca, refried beans, eggs, tortillas – such good food.
Sisters are amazing; we tended to roll out of bed at the same time. We’d have our coffee, then grab our yoga mats and set off to class to stretch and wake up. When we took our showers we would walk out of our separate stalls a heartbeat apart. It was a fine tonic for us to have this special time – time together in the relaxed vibe of the sweet seaside town of La Cruz.
When I registered at the Marina, they gave me three free drink coupons for the restaurant at the marina. On our 2nd night with Erin, we went up the stairs and up again to the bar on top, to enjoy the view, the sunset and the free beverages. We were the only ones in the large square space with huge windows exposing gorgeous views on 3 sides. Jaime, our waiter, brought three very strong margaritas and we ordered some guacamole.
Over the course of the next hour we got to talk to Jaime and Gustavo, a shy young lad from Guanajuato with pretty good English. They were so nice! Jaime‘s English was amazing. He had had a photography and videography shop in Los Cabos, quite successful. Then Hurricane Odile took it out. He lost equipment in the storm and later to looters. But he had such a good attitude – working as a waiter to make money for new equipment. He told us about a trip to the US he had taken. He and a friend drove from California to Florida and up to New York and loved it.
Jaime took some very nice photos of us and we joked that he probably knew more about our camera after 5 minutes than we did after a month. When it came time for the bill we realized we were in the wrong restaurant for the coupons. Oh well… 420 pesos – we gave him 500 and called it a very good night. We all agreed it was so worth it to strike up an acquaintance with these fine Mexican men and enjoy the fabulous views and ambiance.
The second time we went for our free drinks, we went to Frascati’s – the right restaurant this time. Our friends, Doug and Lyneita decided to join us even though they didn’t have coupons. So up we went to enjoy a drink at the charming bar that overlooked the marina. When we showed our waiter our coupons he said they were only good with a meal. Dang! Oh well… we all ordered margaritas and had a fun time sitting under the palm fronds of the gorgeous palapa roof. After we paid the bill we realized our “free drink” coupons had cost us 800 pesos for 6 margaritas and a couple of appetizers! (This pretty much sums up my luck with coupons.)
One morning we set off for an outing to Sayulita, a popular and charmingly funky surf town nearby. Al, Erin and I walked up to the bus stop and waited a couple of minutes for the mini-van to Bucerias. Once there, we got off and walked across the road to catch our bus to Sayulita. The big white bus, with destinations printed in white letters on the windshield, pulled up and we got on. The drive was beautiful as I remembered; jungle forests, the road curving along small drainages in the lush greenery, then opening to cleared land with small ranchos or shops along the road and sometimes a field with a huge huanacaxle tree.
Besides sight-seeing in Sayulita, we planned to meet up with our dear friends from Cortes Island, Ruth and Roland. They were staying at a beautiful place in Sayulita for a week with their adult children. When the bus pulled into the “station” in Sayulita they weren’t there so we started to look for their place. We attempted to communicate with Ruth by text and there ensued a fairly hilarious series of messages; some forgotten, misunderstood and others not delivered. As Al, Erin and I walked along the main street we decided to stop at a little stand for a fresh-squeezed orange juice. OMG! The flavor was so amazing, so fresh and delicious!
Thus fortified, we started up off the road, Al following the online directions he had. It was unclear if we were on the right road but we decided to go a little further, walking up the dusty road in the heat. We passed a funky yard with some guys hanging out in it. I noticed a table-saw and lumber and eventually realized it was a “shop” producing furniture, mostly outdoors under a huge huanacaxle tree. Al entered the yard and started chatting with the men. We followed and had a fun conversation about furniture-making. Five minutes later we were back on the road and followed it up to the main road to Punta Mita.
It was a lovely morning and not much traffic as we trotted along the little foot-path beside the road. There were a few restaurants set back from the road, with the ubiquitous palapa roof and palms and banana trees for shade. We came to a bridge, which was promising with regards to the “directions”. We turned right onto the road after the bridge and entered a residential neighborhood. We were overjoyed when the young couple walking towards us turned out to be Sierra, Ruth and Roland’s daughter! We hugged and met her boyfriend, Mike, then turned around to walk back to find Ruth & Roland. Sierra showed us a back trail to the bus stop. It was a cool walk along the small ravine full of lush vegetation. No sign of Ruth and Roland at the bus depot so we walked towards town. There we found Ruth finishing a fresh–squeezed o.j. at the same stand we had stopped at earlier. Roland was posted on the other side of the bridge, watching for us. Ah! Reunion was sweet! We wandered together through the main square. There were Huichol people set up with their art and handicrafts in the square; Erin and Ruth perused and purchased some bead work and I found a hat I liked.
We walked the beach, absorbing the scenery and the scene. The surf was stacked up, short and steep; hard to ride and not inviting for swimming. We walked around to the other side of the bay (town side), up into the streets of another neighbourhood, then down to the beach by the cemetery – Playa Los Muertos. We sat in the shade at the quiet beach, enjoying shelter from the sun while we chatted and caught up with each other. After a good break we went back up to the town, pausing to buy some excellent fruits and veggies to add to the lunch menu at Casa Om – the house where they were staying.
Wow! What a place! So gorgeous – tiled and spacious, with elegant painted concrete archways and windows, surfaces smooth and rounded. The kitchen easily accommodated 5 of us preparing the feast. Erin heated tortillas, Roland and I assembled guacamole, Al squeezed fresh orange juice and Ruth cooked refried beans.
The bedrooms were handsome, open-feeling rooms with fine large doors and windows opening out. The bathroom was a whimsical shrine to water, rock, tile, glass and wood. Outdoors, we showered off the sweat and town dirt, then swam in the glorious blue-tiled pool; so cooling and with a great view up to the palapa-roofed yoga studio upstairs and the beautiful terra cotta main floor. Young palm trees graced the wall on the far side of the yard and there was a small pool-side stone fountain, with artfully-stacked round river rocks for the crystalline water to burble over…
It was a treat to spend time with our good friends in such a fine place, and an added treat to spend time with their kids and their partners and friends.
We caught the bus back after a very satisfying visit. It was crowded on the bus – Alan and Erin stood the whole time. A nice Mexican man offered me his seat and later sat down beside me. He spoke great English and had lived in La Cruz for 30 years. He talked about how La Cruz used to be before the marina; he was still ticked off because the locals aren’t allowed to fish in the bay where the marina is anymore.
The bus stopped at the junction to La Cruz and Punta Mita and we got off along with three Spanish-speaking people; an older blond woman, a 20-something woman with tattoos and a young kid. There was no traffic on the road, the temperature was perfect as the sun neared the horizon and the breeze cooled us off. We walked in our two clusters down the quiet off-ramp, the vista opening to the north and west. Banderas Bay was on our left and the road to Punta Mita stretched towards the right, through open flat land, a few clumps of jungle growth and several gorgeous huanacaxle trees. It was a short walk to the main road and a couple of minutes later a collectivo swerved to the shoulder and stopped for us. So we all got in and rode to the only stop light in La Cruz de Huanacaxle, about 5 minutes away.
We were back in time for the free movie at the amphitheater on the breakwater beside the marina. We assembled quick shrimp tacos on board Enchanté and then joined the procession of people on the breakwater. Movie-goers were easy to spot with their seat pads and snacks in hand. The divine scent of popcorn wafted to us on the walk to the venue. Lo and behold, the marina was offering free popcorn! There was also a food truck set up serving Thai food. We ordered a shrimp pad thai that was delicious!
Our days were relaxed and full; yoga, snorkeling, paddle-boarding, walking to the fish market for fresh shrimp – sold to us and cleaned by the handsome young man with the flashing white, wide grin, usually followed by a shy duck of his head.
Ruth and Roland came to visit us in La Cruz and we enjoyed a lovely meal at Las Palapas restaurant on the beach and then headed to Jardin del Pulpo, a beautiful and tranquil restaurant/cafe with an amazing collection of Huichol artwork. As we walked, we passed a man with a 5 gallon bucket in each hand. He asked, in excellent English, if we wanted to buy coffee. At first we said no thanks, but then Al asked if it was organic. The guy says “it’s beyond organic!” I was skeptical but Al asked, what does that mean? And Ryan proceeded to explain how this coffee was grown in a native forest that needs no chemicals. It smelled amazing and the price was great. We asked where he was from and he replied, Tecuitata. Wow! That was the village by El Cora and the waterfalls! We became fans of Cafe de Ryan (cafederyan.com).
The beach at La Cruz with Puerto Vallarta visible across the bay.
One morning near the end of our time with Erin we took the bus almost to Punta Mita and got out at the Pemex station. We crossed the road and entered a trail beside a small estuary. There was hurricane fence directly adjacent to the trail with big Zona Federal Propiedad Privado signs. I wondered if we should be concerned? But our guide book clearly indicated this was the “trail head”. At the end of the day, on our bus ride home, we saw the signs that we hadn’t seen when we started; the signs warning of crocodiles and other hazards.
Al and Erin started down the small dirt trail that wound around tree roots and rocks. We walked along the excellent shady trail, near the trickle of water in the stream and joked about cocodrillos. Erin and I saw three large, hairy tarantula-type legs in a three-inch hole in the ground. After about five minutes we crossed a small sandy drainage, ducked under some branches and emerged onto the blindingly bright, white sand beach. The turquoise water and frothy surf were gorgeous. There were surfers peppering the breaks and sometimes a victorious rider rode a wave towards the shore.
For many kilometers we walked along the hot sunny shore, so grateful for the breeze. A few rocky points, wave-washed with the high tide, required timing our transit to leap between waves. By the time the palapa restaurants were in sight we were very ready for shade and a cold beverage. When we sat down, a guy with a silver jewelry display box came by. Erin was happy to shop while we waited for our beer and mineral waters. A rotation of vendors cruised through the open-air restaurant showing their wares. After cold beverages and guacamole we continued down the beach, much to the disappointment of our waiter. He tried very hard to get us to stay.
We walked the beach by the panga lagoon, the boats floating in a big half-ellipse around the bay. There were several short breakwaters on the waterfront and the surf was pounding beyond them. We passed a guy renting paddleboards and started talking with him. Al headed home – worn out from the long, hot beach walk and too much sun. Erin decided to rent a board for 45 minutes. I sat at the corner table watching her, getting some good shots with the camera and having a beer. Erin’s sense of balance, determination and athleticism had her figuring it out and catching some waves; very cool…
After the 45 minutes we got ready to go catch the bus back to La Cruz. We rinsed our sandy and salty feet from the large basin of fresh water (often provided by beach side restaurants) and walked out to the tiny street. Vendors’ colorful wares spilled out onto the wide sidewalk. We climbed the steep road from the resort up to the small town and along to the bus stop. The bus to La Cruz was leaving in 4 minutes – excellenté.
Our friends, Lyneita and Doug, from Comox at Sunday market.
We went to the Sunday market – the explosion of bright colors, local vendors, tons of (presumably) wealthy gringos and cruisers crammed into the walkways. A myriad of foods were available; hot samosas, chutney, tacos, French baked goods, probiotic vegetables, organic produce, natural health products, coffee, high-end jewelry, classic Mexican weaving and pottery. A yoga class was going on in the park under the palm trees. After the session, mats were rolled up and a couple of musicians set up bongos, a conga, a couple of mikes, stools and amps. It was lovely to sit on the low rock wall in the shade of the coconut palms listening to live music, visiting with our friends and people-watching in the diverse crowd.
We were so delighted that our young friend, Jesus, was able to come to our boat for a visit. (We had met him in 2014 and became very friendly during the month that we were on the dock in La Cruz.) He wanted to make margaritas for us and came loaded down with 100 Años tequila, Courvoisier, naranjita, (from Chapala, his birthplace), some Chapala habañero sauce, a blender, a large bag of limes, an orange liquor (for when the Courvoisier ran out) and a huge bag of ice. They were great margaritas and it was wonderful to have Jesus on board and a chance to catch up.
On a Friday night when Erin was with us we went for a walk on the breakwater after dinner. Not quite ready to go back to Enchanté, we decided to walk to the square. I had seen a group of brass instrument players tuning up there just before dinner. As we got closer we could hear the music. There was a gazebo-type stage in the park and we were amazed to see the ten musicians and their instruments all crammed into the small space. A tuba player stood at the back of the group, the gleaming, bulbous brass so oversized. Just in front of him were the trumpet and trombone players. There were drums and clarinets, guitars and several singers. It was quite a melieu of instruments and energetic musicians. They made a lot of sound and we were quite swept up in the event. Some Mexican couples were dancing in the walkway near the front of the stage. We joined in for a bit but I felt more comfortable watching the dancers from the sidelines. There were several classy older couples, and my favorite was a pert and lively young woman, plumply filling out her stretch jeans, silver embellishments on her back pockets. She had a cheeky, open grin, and was smiling and grooving on the music, shaking her lovely body in response to the music and her partner.
Erin making sushi in the cabin.
On the day of Erin’s departure we took the collectivo to the stop directly outside the airport building – crazy convenient! We were there in plenty of time and made our way through the masses of new arrivals who were spilling onto the wide sidewalk. There was a cacophony going on as we traversed the congested area in front of the Arrivals terminal. We proceeded along the sidewalk towards the Departures area and finally we could talk again, away from the crowds. When Erin was all settled with her boarding pass we said goodbye; great love and appreciation for our time together beamed back and forth between us. Then Al and I walked away, my heart full and my eyes brimming.
We had arranged to meet Jesus and his wife, Mayra, for lunch after we got Erin to the airport. There was a special seafood “restaurant” they wanted to take us to. They picked us up across from the airport and drove us to a tiny little place tucked into a back street in Bucerias. There were four tables set up on a sloping concrete driveway with white plastic chairs with the Corona logo. The golden-brown skinned waiter had silver in his toothy smile and an Ottawa ball cap on his head. He knew Jesus and Mayra and they joked around a bit , then he took our order to the “kitchen” in the large concrete enclosure at the bottom of the driveway. It was amazing seafood. OMG! The octopus so tender – the chopped carrots and onion so tiny and uniform in the coleslaw. It was really fun talking (mostly Spanish) to Mayra, finding out about her plans to set up a clinic as a nutritionist.
Breakwater/ malecon in La Cruz harbour.
We delayed our departure from the marina mostly because of indecision and because my back was bothering me. It was Valentine’s Day and I was curious if something would come up during the day that would inspire the thought “oh, so this is what we stayed for”. At mid-day I was inspired to turn on the VHF radio and within a few minutes started hearing traffic about a sailboat named Rage, which had gone aground on the reef outside the La Cruz harbor. It was impressive hearing the local community and cruisers in the anchorage and the marina come forward and formulate a plan. At 4:00 we started the long walk around the harbor, past the fish market and along the sandy beach fronting various hotels and apartment complexes, towards the surfing ground and the rocky point where Rage lay on her side, impaled by a rock. The salvage operation was underway. Alan waded out to join the crew in the thigh-deep water; the waves swelled and surged around the fatally wounded sailboat; it lay on the rocks, the decks almost vertical. People inside the boat were gathering everything they could pass to the crew waiting in the surf; soggy, salty items were loaded in the three plastic kayaks that transported the salvage, passed along from person to person in a line of a dozen or more people to the shore. I was at the beach, helping to haul the kayaks ashore to unload their wet and sandy cargo, sobered by the heart-breaking situation but heartened to be part of the salvage operation. Eventually we heard almost everything was salvaged except the hull – the exemplary operation even included the removal of the fuel and other toxins in an ecologically sound manner.
That was our last day in La Cruz. We had wrestled with the decision of whether to head south for a “quick trip” to Barra de Navidad and Tenacatita or just point the bow northwards. In the end that seemed the best option; we realized that going south could present a stressful situation if the weather was uncooperative for our return north. So preparations were made to leave Marina La Cruz in the morning – the plan was to anchor at Punta Mita for a couple of days and get some more paddle board surfing practice. Adios to one of our favorite towns on the Mexican Riviera and such a special place to spend time with Erin.
Washed veggies ready to be packed away for the voyage north.
Escapades with Enchanté 