What are you going to do? We got dressed and headed into town. We started at the head of the Malécon and worked our way down the street. Mostly a bunch of junk no one wants or high priced art and jewelry we’re not interested in.
Jane did find a sink she loved, and I have to admit that if A) we needed a sink somewhere in the house, or B) we could get it home, it would have been cool.
We finally got hot and tired (not to mention that I was a little hungover...go figure) so decided we needed to get something to eat before we could make decisions on major purchases like keychains, cheap pottery and old Mexican license plates. I didn’t even have the resolve to find someplace nice to eat, so ended up at a little outdoor cafe at the end of the Malécon.
We drank instead.
You wouldn’t believe the amount of people using three and four year old kids to sell trinkets. Or maybe you would. Other than this, it’s a most civilized country. Well that whole business about severed heads being found in ice chests is a little disturbing, but as far as I know, we never met any cartel members. In fact, the whole time we were there not one person offered us drugs. Incredible.
When I finally got my strength back, we made our way down the street. We finally found a couple of jewelry shops and bought a couple of gifts for the kids. We ended with what they called a flea market, which was just a collection of shops selling curios. We bought a few.
We finally got a cab back to hotel, changed into our suits and headed to the beach. Thank God.
After a few hours in the sun, reading and drinking (anyone see a pattern here?), we met up with another couple. A guy from a small town in Illinois and a girl from Scheskateuan (sp). Turns out he was a orthopedist and she was a nurse. They were very low key and Midwest. But funny. Jane used this opportunity to ask them about every strange illness she’d ever heard of. Mostly they were no help, so Jane took the opportunity to tell them about every strange illness she’d ever heard of. On top of it all, they live outside San Francisco and she worked part time at an outpatient recovery center for plastic surgery that just so happens to host post-op transgender patients. For Jane, this was the mother lode.
Now as an aside, earlier I’d felt a rumbling in my tummy-tum-tum and made a mad dash for local facilities. Barely made it time, I swear.
By the time Jane and I made it upstairs, I had a fever and crawled in bed shivering. No shower. I just lay in bed alternating between cold shivers and hot sweats. It was lovely. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how I was going to be able to get up, get dressed and make it to the plane. After a fitful night of sleep, where I swear I woke every fifteen minutes, I woke up and looked at the clock. It was 12:30am.
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