Since I
haven’t been keeping up with this vacation, I thought I would try to start from
Day 1 and try to recreate it from the beginning. It may not get finished but
here’s a start anyway.
Saturday,
January 6
We left
Ajijic in the morning—not early but not late.
We had unloaded most of the things we had boxed up from the house and
put them in the storage room by the garage at our own house. James had evidently had Ricky clean it up and
get it ready for us so we had plenty of room.
We were staying with a friend, Jan Braverman, who lives just a few
blocks from us in Ajijic. We left some
things at her house that we didn’t want to store in the garage bodega (the Mexican word for storage
room). We only packed with us the clothes we would need here, some food,
Daisy’s stuff, etc.
Beautiful day as
always, especially this time of year.
Everyone there had been complaining about how cold it had been—chilly at
night (as low as upper 40s) but warm in the daytime, 70s.
There’s a
new bypass to the west and north that we picked up well south of the
airport. As you get well past
Guadalajara, the highway turns more westerly and it’s a beautiful
drive—mountains and green valleys. We
were high on the side of a mountain range and could see the town of Tequila
below us. One day we’re going to take a
trip there. Less than 3 hours or so, we
began the road begins to climb steeply because that’s the only way to get over
the Sierra Madre to get to the coast.
Then the steep descent to turn to the south on the road that bypasses
all the villages on the west coast.
These used to be small, simple fishing villages, but as Puerto Vallarta
developed to the north, that expansion helped turned the villages into cheaper
and less tourist-jazzy than PV. We got
to San Pancho (real name San Francisco) in about 4 ½ hours.
Once we got
to San Pancho, very small, there’s one main street that leads directly to the
beach on the ocean. We remembered that
but remarked on how many more shops and restaurants than from 9 years ago. Turning north, parallel to the ocean, we took
the road that leads up and up to get to the bluffs higher above. The road hasn’t changed at all. It’s about 2 ½ miles on a windy, twisty dirt
road—passable for two cars in some places but not all. Along this road as you rise above the town
are properties of varying sizes, but you can’t see them since they’re all
situated on the west side, that overlooks the ocean. With Susan’s directions and our dim memory of
before, we managed to find the villas again.
The road
actually ends there at the top, then there’s a very narrow road that twists
down the western slope. Along this
smaller road (which is a small community of half a dozen properties), you’re
surrounded by the jungle with coconut and date palms, tall trees similar to
rubber trees, and very thick undergrowth.
At the end of the road (again) are the villas. There’s a wide parking area, a two-story building
with a garage and storage/laundry room below and one of the palapas above on
the second floor. From this vantage, you
can hear the ocean but can’t see it. A
brick path of steps and walkways leads down to the two other palapa villas and
the large common area palapa. Each of
these are along the brick path through the jungle, dropping down one by
one. Ours, Iguana, is on the left with
Sunflower (the large one) just below.
Along the west side of Sunflower are two decks, the pool, and the path
continues to the third palapa, Mariposa, with the steps continuing down the
steep slope to the small beach and huge rocks below, where the breakers smash
in.
Picture (not from us) of what the bluffs look like, looking back from the ocean.
Our first
impression was of shabbiness. The
outdoor furniture—well, it’s all outdoors—appeared to be the same furniture and cushions as when we
were here before. On the top deck, same
level as the common area and kitchen, are white resin tables and chairs with
very sad-looking cushions. On the deck
below, the infinity pool looked the same, sparkling and inviting. (Whoever invented the idea of infinity pools
was brilliant.) The edge of the pool fades into the vista of the Pacific. But around the pool, again, were ugly white
resin lounge chairs with faded cushions that were probably new in 2008. Inside the main palapa, the kitchen looked
pretty much the same, except the oven door is rusty and the small appliances in
need of cleaning and/replacement. The
dining room table was surrounded by 6 chairs with faded seat cushions and chair
backs whose veneer was visibly peeling—badly and so ugly. We were pretty shocked at the condition.
Our palapa
was the same, two double beds with mosquito netting but ok as far as
comfort. The bathroom similar with sink,
toilet, and shower. There are walls for
privacy there but the top of the walls open into the high palapa roof. Again, no real difference.
Time to fix
dinner. But first, I had to clean the
surfaces in the kitchen, unplug the toaster and coffee maker to clean them
thoroughly and wash whatever pans we were using. The grill we had enjoyed so much before was
ok (outdoors, after all), but the basket for fish or whatever was rusty and
unusable. There was wood for the grill
but not mesquite as we had before.
At this
point we were very disappointed and embarrassed because we had friends arriving
the next day. We took notes, made a
list, and got ready for bed. And that’s
when I discovered the mildew-smelling pillows. I. Hate. The. Smell. Of. Mildew.
But we set up Daisy’s kennel to block the open entrance to the palapa and went
to bed. We were not happy campers. And by the way, some people may remember how
much I hate camping.
Nevertheless,
we had little choice. The closest real
hotel that takes pets is the Westin in Nueva Vallarta, about an hour away. So we went to sleep with the glorious sound
of the surf breaking below.
So far, only
a couple of positive things: the incredible view and the sound of the waves
about 150 ft below.
To be
continued.
