Actually, we both had a wonderful time even though we didn’t talk to each other all day. Jane had a great time on the boat with the girls, and Cesar took me to see places and things I never would have seen on my own.
We started by stopping by his home so he could change out of his work clothes. I didn’t go in, but waited with the car. A few minutes later he came walking down carrying his nephew Hugo, who it became obvious thinks the sun rises and sets with Cesar. Hugo turns 4 next week and they’re celebrating his birthday along with Cesar’s sister and 96 year old grandmother, all of whom share the exact same birthday. It should be quite a show.
Cesar lives up the mountain overlooking the bay. As we twisted and turned up increasingly steep streets I wondered if the small car we were driving would be able to make it. It seemed like you’d need a four wheel drive, or at least a mountain goat, but we made it. The view is stunning with the entire town laid out before you, red roofs and all before ending in the blue waters of Banderas Bay.


(click on image to enlarge)
After meeting Hugo’s mother, we were on our way. Stopping by a small shop that sold leather sandalias, I bought a new pair of flip flops (a term Cesar found funny), then made our way to a beautiful, open-air restaurant for breakfast. Family owned and run, the furniture was rugged, the food simple and fresh, and the prices a downright steal. We had huevos with potatoes, ham, and bacon, along with hot sauce, salsa and corn tortillas. I learned that in this part of the world, most Mexicans eat corn, rather than flour tortillas.
We had wonderful coffee and fresh orange juice as well except that Cesar ordered what he called green juice. I could see that it was green juice, but what I wanted to know was what it was. Apparently it was a mix of juices from both fruits and vegetables, which Cesar claimed kept one healthy if you drank it everyday. There were several of these natural remedies throughout the day; concoctions that cured everything from colds to hangovers to cancer.
(click on image to enlarge)

Having finished our breakfast, we drove South along the coast on one of two roads coming in and out of Puerto Vallarta. For the most part, to your left was a brown, rocky jungle which Cesar explained would become lush in the rainy season, and to the right, along the water, were unbelievable private homes and more resorts, ranging from boutique to gargantuan. We wound our way up the coast slowing every few hundred meters to pass over speed bumps. These are everywhere and are a very effective speed limit that I’m sure keeps traffic deaths way down since the roads are narrow, the cliffs steep and the guard rails non-existent.
Our destination was Las Arches, a rock formation off the coast that have natural arches underneath cut by the ocean. They are a tourist destination for boaters, divers and snorkelers, evidences by the groups of boats surrounding them.

(click on image to enlarge)
There’s a reason people travel to these rock formations by boat. We were just a little too far away, stuck up on a cliff with waves crashing on the rocks below. They are beautiful but to get any kind of good picture, you’d really need to be on a boat and arrive for either sunrise or sunset. Otherwise, they’re just rocks jutting out of the ocean.
Next we traveled a little farther South on the main road before turning left on a dirt road that led up into the mountains. Following a river that always stayed on our right, we wound up the mountain up a road that was often unbelievably tight for two cars to pass complete with hairpin turns and steep sections. There were a lot of cars, and this was obviously a tourist area. We passed through little villages with curio shops, tequila “factory stores”, and the ubiquitous bodegas, tiny grocery stores that sold a wide range of supplies and of course, beer. The ones that sold Corona were always painted yellow and blue, the brand’s colors. Cesar wanted to know if they did the same thing in New Jersey. No, I explained. It’s a little different.

(click on image to enlarge)
We pulled off into a parking lot that contained a series of small buildings, some not more than stalls, selling a variety of souvenirs to tourists. There were people swimming below in the river, leaving there clothes to dry on the larger boulders. We left the car and walked up a path which eventually opened up to reveal a wider section of the river and a restaurant built along it’s edge. The place was a series of bridges, stairs, and multiple levels of seating, all combined to give you wonderful view of the river. We ordered a couple of beers and wandered around, me taking pictures with my camera and Cesar taking pictures with his iPhone.
Cesar, as it turns out, takes quite a lot of pictures with his phone. In the short time, I’ve known him, he’s pulled out his iPhone to show me pictures of his family’s ranch, his grandmother, his ex-girlfriend, his new girlfriend, his sister’s house complete with something close to a zoo full of birds and animals, a truck he wants to buy, trips up into the mountains, his nephew, his niece, his cousin and even his daughter.
Now, while for the most part I was supposed to be off seeing the “real” Puerto Vallarta, I guess we had to stop at at least one cheesy touristy joint. And I can’t think of anything more cheesy than visiting the site and set of Predator, a movie about an alien who comes to earth to hunt humans for sport, starring the governor of California.
(click on image to enlarge)

So there I was staring at a replica model of the alien sitting on top of a helicopter they blew up for the movie. Several areas of the set that was built for the movie have been turned into tourist attractions complete with Corona, curio gift shops, restaurants and river pools in which to cool off. But here’s the catch, most of the people we saw weren’t Americans at all, but Mexicans from other parts of Mexico. They love the movie and this was a big deal. So, the joke was on me. If I wanted to see what Mexicans did for fun, this was it. I was the only gringo in the place.

Next we traveled down a back road leading up through the mountains again, following yet another river. There was no tourism here. This was Mexican heartland. While many Mexicans in the area make their living on the tourism trade and so work on or near the beach, it’s not where they choose to do on their days off.
The river, especially in the mountains, is where the locals go to have fun and relax. Everywhere you looked, as you traveled along the river, were families bathing in the water, cooking on the shores over campfires, and taking the occasional siesta. Most of the Mexicans I met, claimed that this was definitely their spot of choice. Let the tourists have the beach. Give them a nice cool spot along the river where they could frolic in the cool mountain stream, cook on an open fire and fall asleep under a tree.
Maybe they have something there.
Cesar and I ended our day back in town where we went to a small restaurant and bar run by a friend of his. It was all locals. Ceviche was their specialty so we ordered the requisite round of Coronas, and two orders of ceviche. These were twice the size of what they served at the resort, and frankly much better. A serving was two large mounds on equally larger crackers. One would have been enough for me, but by the time I got back from washing my hands in the bathroom, Cesar was polishing off his second. He ordered a second round of scallop ceviche, both of which he bathed in habanero salsa, and a generous squirt from no less than three bottles of sauce. Before long he was sweating profusely and smiling broadly.
(click on image to enlarge)
It had been a full day.
Jane reported that they had an equally good, if not a slightly different kind of day. The girls were nice, the boat beautiful and well appointed, the crew friendly and courteous, the weather perfect. Other than getting a little sunburned, and eating only “cheese little sandwiches”, she had a grand time.
As Cesar was letting me off in front of the hotel, the girls were pulling up in a van, screaming out of the windows. A few of the girls, okay one, had gotten pretty drunk and had been yelling out the windows at various people along the way. It had obviously been a full day for them as well.
We had dinner at the main restaurant in the hotel, which was actually quite good, but by the end of the meal I was spent. No coffee. No desert. No after dinner drink. We got back to our room and I crawled into bed where I was quickly fast asleep.
I did, however, dream all night in Spanish.
No comments:
Post a Comment