Living it Up at the Dead Sea

I remember one sunny springtime afternoon when I was walking home from work with a colleague who lived nearby.  We were discussing regional travel as we descending the steep hill on top of which our office sits when he suddenly commented that he could not believe TJ and I had not yet visited the salty tourist spot known as the Dead Sea.  "It's no big deal," I said, casually pointing southeast of our current location.  "It's right there.  I see it every day."

I could play it cool all I wanted, but we all know that seeing isn't experiencing.  I was dying to visit the Dead Sea.  It was with great joy that I was finally able to take a dip on June 22nd when we visited the Ein Gedi Sea of Spa resort.

The Dead Sea came by its gruesome moniker due to the fact that the harsh environment created by its high salt content makes it difficult for animals to flourish there.  Weighing in at approximately 35% salinity, it is one of the world's saltiest bodies of water.  It is the world's deepest hypersaline lake (1,004 feet deep).  And, because it likes to be the best at what it does, it also features the lowest land elevation on the planet, with a shoreline sitting at 1,400 feet below sea level.

Chunks of salt rock scattered across the shoreline

Located approximately 35km from Jerusalem, the Dead Sea is a landlocked body of water surrounded by Jordan to the east and Israel and the West Bank to the west.  It has attracted tourists for thousands of years and numerous spas and resorts have popped up on both the Jordanian and Israeli shorelines.  Although the Israeli side is more convenient to reach from our Jerusalem home, we've heard it said that the customer service is superior on the Jordanian side.  Perhaps one day I'll do a comparison piece about weekend travel accommodations, but this particular visit was just a quick in-and-out.  So far as I could tell, the service for a simple afternoon visit was more than adequate. The staff at Sea of Spa were friendly.  They gave us towels.  They provided safe and secure storage for our personal belongings.  They sold us beer. I couldn't possibly ask for more out of a short afternoon visit.  The resort was undergoing some construction/renovation, so there was a bit of a "Pardon our Dust" feel to the place, but it didn't detract from or enjoyment.  I'd definitely suggest it for someone's initial Dead Sea experience.    

We began our visit with a dip in the sulfur pools.  Sulfur pools are usually found around volcanic areas and hot springs, and are apparently full of keratin proteins, which are key structural materials in the creation of skin, hair, and nails.  All I know is that sulfur stinks to high heaven.  The warm water was very relaxing, though, and left my skin feeling soft and silky.  It was also slightly buoyant, which helped prepare us for what came next.

The seawater of the Dead Sea has a density of 1.240kg/L, which means that natural buoyancy turns your afternoon swim into something more akin to a casual float.

Walking in the water is fine; you carry on as you would at any beach.  It's not until you attempt to transition from a vertical to a horizontal position that things get wonky.  If you aren't careful, you'll find yourself rolling around like a fishing bobber.  Once you find your center of gravity, though, you will be able to enjoy a relaxing lounge without need of treading water or focusing on that perfect floating position.  Word of advice:  do NOT get the water in your eyes.  It will burn like fire.  Lots of parents failed to educate their children regarding this, and screams of pain could be heard all around.  Also, don't get in the water if you have an open cut/sore...that, too, will burn like fire.

The Dead Sea is known for more than its unique swimming opportunities.  It is also famous for being a natural health spa, and merchants claim to be able to bottle its "healing powers."

Sea salts and body lotions are produced and sold on the international market, while visitors are able to spread deposits of black mud all over their bodies, which is said to provide the skin with nourishing minerals.

I'm shy. So please enjoy muddy pictures of strangers.  

Especially the hottie on the right.

We spent several hours at the resort, rotating back and forth between floating in the sea, cooling off in the pool, slathering ourselves in mud, and enjoying a beer in our deck chairs.  We were each given a bottle of Dead Sea foot cream as a parting gift.  All in all, it was a great foray into Dead Sea indulgence.

I'd like to say that we've been back since that wonderful June day, but we haven't.  There were many contributing factors, other travels and increasing security concerns within the country being but two of them.  I'll touch on both in the coming days.  Suffice it to say that, with 9-10 months left in Jerusalem, one or two return trips, minimum, are on the to-do list.  

Puerto Vallarta and the Sayulita Redemption

Labor Day 2012 provided us with one last opportunity to visit the beach town that made us love beaches, Puerto Vallarta. Joining us on this trip were our friends Alex, who had not been to Vallarta since his childhood years, and Tom, a co-worker that loves PV as much as we do. We often cross paths with Tom in PV (like when he officiated this wedding), but this was the first trip we had purposefully coordinated together. Our ability to make this journey was appreciated even more so than previous trips, as security concerns over the previous weekend had initially made it look like this long-planned trip would have to be cancelled.

We arrived just before sunset on Friday evening and left midmorning on Monday. The weekend wasn't filled with anything extraordinary. Which is what made it completely special

We walked along the Malecón (Boardwalk), as always. We had a late night snack at The Dog House, as is the norm. We had breakfast at my favorite beachfront restaurant, Mi Querencia. We ate here for the first time in February 2010, then somehow "lost" it, and rediscovered it during a July trip to PV with our friends Carlos and Sergio. I'm not sure how we lost it, because it never moved, but I digress...We browsed the art galleries. We drank. We got too much sun. We swam a lot. The weekend was absolutely, perfectly, typically Vallarta. We did all of the things that we always love doing and will miss dearly when we leave.

We deviated from our normal course only once and booked a day cruise through our hotel which allowed us to go snorkeling alongside beautiful rock formations and spend some time on this gorgeous but tiny beach.

Monday arrived all too soon, and with it the sad understanding that this was or final beach day in Mexico. Tom and Alex still have plenty of chances to taste the salty sea air of any number of Mexican beaches, but it's over for poor Aaron and TJ. While the four of us bobbed lazily in the early morning waves of the Playa de los Muertos shoreline, TJ made an executive decision: we would load up the car and leave immediately.

Faced with the option of staying on familiar turf or taking one last opportunity to explore a not-as-familiar beach, we decided to use the last couple of hours before heading home to revisit the small beach town known as Sayulita. Our last trip had been un poco loco and we both wanted to take away an alternative memory, for comparison's sake. Tom and Alex, on the other hand, just wanted to try something new and unknown. There's not a whole lot to say, really. We traded one beach for another, this time bobbing lazily in the late morning waves of Sayulita's main beach (which, for the life of me, I can not find the name of). We considered surfing lessons but immediately decided that such exertion really would detract from the lazy bobbing. I haggled halfheartedly with a beach vendor (Well, he haggled wholeheartedly, and I haggled no-heatedly, so it averages out to half). We all agreed that Sayulita is a beautiful beach oasis worth visiting...but maybe only on your way to or from Vallarta. It's such a small town that the nightlife and energy of Vallarta eclipse it.

...But then we had lunch. We dragged our not-wanting-to-leave feet down Marin Street, Sayulita's main drag, looking for suitable dining options and ultimately settling on a street taco vendor. Mostly because she, unlike other restaurants, was open at noon. She only had two items on the menu: grilled mahi mahi and grilled shrimp. Oh. My. God. If the fish tacos TJ and I had last time were lackluster, these were blockbuster. Best. Tacos. EVER. We started out with two. Then had two more. *nomnomnom*. For these tacos, I could return to Sayulita every weekend. PV ain't got nuthin' on them. Nowhere else, either, for that matter.

While we ate, a woman peddling homemade jewelry approached us. We aren't normally keen on street fare, but I guess the good vibes from taco had heaven rubbed off. Tom and I both bought necklaces featuring handmade owl tokens, dubbing ourselves forevermore Owl Buddies.

Alas, sunburned and filled to bursting with seafood and memories, it was time to say goodbye to the beaches of Jalisco and Nayarit.

I hope life provides an opportunity to return one day. For someone that never cared for the beach or the ocean, I'm going to miss them both terribly. I look forward to Israel and the beaches of Tel Aviv.

But for now, I must focus on wrapping things up in Guadalajara. A meager five weeks remain in what has been an amazing two year experience. There's still so much to see and do. Let's see what we can manage, shall we?

Sayulita

This past weekend, TJ and I were invited to the beach town known as Sayulita to celebrate the birthday of our friend Mick.

This small but bustling village located in the state of Nayarit was established when families arrived from the mountains of Jalisco to take ownership of the communal land in 1941, but this oceanfront paradise with its lush tropical surroundings wouldn’t become the beach destination it is today until its discovery by wandering surfers in the 1960s, following the construction of Mexican Highway 200.

Located a mere 25 miles north of downtown Puerto Vallarta, TJ and I have driven past the turn-off for Sayulita at least a half-dozen times on our way to and from various other adventures, but with less than three months left in Mexico and an invitation for a free stay at a house on the beach, there was no better time than the present to do a little exploring.

When discussing our impending trip with a coworker, he had three things to say about Sayulita: 1) The surfing is good; 2) The fish tacos are amazing; and 3) The smell of marijuana permeates the beach. “Gringos & guanja” is how he referred to this popular American hippie destination. I wasn’t enthused by the drug reference, but the rest sounded pretty good.

In preparation for our Friday morning departure, we decided to start the weekend off right with a relaxing massage on Thursday night followed by a wine & cheese dinner with our friends Sergio and Carlos. It sounded good in theory, but how were we to know that I would somehow manage to suffer the first allergic reaction of my life on the massage table? My eyes and lips swelled to ridiculous proportions thanks to who knows what. Current theories include the almond/ginger extract in the massage oils, some sort of cleaning agent used on the massage table, or perhaps the table itself. I took some Benadryl and hoped that would help. It did, somewhat, but I was feeling far too loopy at that point to engage in conversation and missed the dinner completely. Friday morning saw us departing for Sayulita an hour later than expected, thanks to a pit stop at our friendly neighborhood emergency room for a cortisone shot (Out of Pocket Cost: $80 USD...Mexico has its perks!). Skin tests are expected to take place in the near future.

I slept soundly while TJ made the arduous three-to-four hour drive through the mountains (thanks, hon!) and awoke just as we arrived in Sayulita’s downtown area, feeling refreshed but in need of a shower. We called Mick, who said he would head down from the house to meet us, which gave us twenty minutes to complete a cursory snoop of our surroundings. We discovered that Sayulita is a quaint little town full of delicious looking restaurants, art galleries filled with traditional Mexican sculptures and beadwork, surfboard rentals, and hippies. If the plethora of dreadlocks were any indication, our coworkers assessment of the scene had been correct.

Once Mick arrived, we made the five minute drive up the steep mountainside and learned that our Jeep Compass has more chutzpah than we gave it credit for. We arrived at a gorgeous pink house (dubbed "Casa Paz" by its owner), the highest at this particular vantage point, and were greeted with a beautiful ocean view. We were given a private room with a private bath (which ended up not being so private; an endless herd of people used it throughout our stay) and noticed immediately that there were no windows or doors present. To be clear, there were bolt and screw holes where windows and doors had been, but they were now gone. Curious, but it did allow one to completely absorb the surrounding environs. We settled in and I was pleased to discover that, post-shower, I felt like a million bucks. The swelling was totally gone.

People were milling about, eating tostadas de atún (a new favorite treat, and one that I had never even thought of before), watching a bootleg copy of Madagascar 3 and getting their pre-drink on. We hopped in the infinity pool and splashed around for a while before Cory, the generous homeowner that had offered his space for the festivities, arrived. After dispensing with the appropriate pleasantries, he announced that he wasn’t feeling well and retired for the evening, citing potential food poisoning.

Shortly after sunset, we showered and dressed, then headed back down the mountainside to pick up some refreshments and snacks for the party. We also picked up a can of OFF! Insect Repellent, having noticed that the bugs were a-swarmin’. That trip afforded me my one glimpse of Sayulita nightlife, and I must say I found it lively and inviting.

The party went well enough, with Mick’s family serving up delicious beef and rice burgers, fries, hash browns, and chocolate fondue. My Spanish is still mediocre, but we all understand the universal language of a good drinking game, right? Unfortunately when TJ and I retired for the evening, the party was still in full swing. At this point, not having doors or windows became a bit of a detriment, as there was no way to block out the sounds of drinking games, iPod playlists, and idyll chatter. Oh, and the heat. It got HOT that night.

The next day around 10am we decided to head down to the beach. Of course, Mick wasn’t ready. So we waited for him. Then his friend wasn’t ready. And then the other friend. So around 11:30 we finally arrived at the beach. We all wanted fish tacos, but the fish taco place wasn’t open yet. We settled in for a non-taco brunch at a place called ChocoBanana, a Sayulita landmark famous since 1991 for its chocolate dipped bananas. I was already feeling bitter, wanting a banana and knowing I probably shouldn’t, since they were covered in nuts, which thanks to my newfound allergies may or may not kill me, when our party of seven mutually agreed that we didn’t want a non-taco brunch, and that we would wrap things up with our initial round of beverages and enjoy some beach time while waiting for the taco place to open. That’s when another one of Mick’s friends arrived on the scene and proclaimed that his smart phone had been stolen at last night’s party. TJ and I shot each other a look of alarm, then headed to the car. We let the group know that we would be back just as soon as we had secured our computer and iPad.

It’s an embarrassing thing, having your hosts know that you are guarding your personal items against theft, and also knowing that they are on the suspect list. Still, fool me once, shame on you...and at this point in my time in Mexico, I've already been fooled twice. At this point, Mick’s father asked if we were going back to the beach, and if we would be able to take him. We said yes, we are leaving now, and yes, we can take you. He thanked us and then proceeded to sit down to eat breakfast (For future reference, when somebody says "Ahorita," they can mean anything from "right now" to "shortly after hell freezes over"). Maybe an hour later we were all in the car heading back to the beach. Oh, except for Mick’s father, who decided to go later. Um. Yeah...And to top it off, the taco place still wasn’t open. We were told they would finally open in about twenty minutes, so we headed to the beach.

On a positive note I will say that the weather was comfortably warm, and the water was refreshingly cool. The waves were choppy, but only in that fun, rocking to-and-fro way. There were plenty of swimmers, surfers, and paddleboarders, yet nobody ever appeared to be in anybody else’s way. In other words, nobody cracked their head open on any wooden or fiberglass projectiles.

We finally managed to have our fish tacos, landing at a place called Restaurant Carmelita that had been jumpin’jumpin’ the night before during our soda run. They offered up some excellent chips and salsa, and my Limonada was divine. But they screwed up my food order twice, and when all was said and done, I judged the fish tacos in Guadalajara to be much more enjoyable.

After another dip in the ocean, after which we finally spotted and quickly evaded a pot vendor (he gets credit for originality...he was selling hash donuts), we headed back to the house for a long siesta before sojourning into Vallarta for the evening. Or at least that was the plan.

TJ woke me up at 7:30 and proceeded to do the same for Mick, who had wanted to leave by 8pm. In the time it took me to wake up, shower, and dress, Mick was still picking out his outfit. Finally having accomplished that, he showered and was ready by 8:30. He then asked that we wait while a friend of his got ready. That friend was ready by 9:00. Then he asked if another friend could get ready. Said friend was still in the pool.

TJ and I busied ourselves playing dominoes with Mick’s parents and cousins. I suddenly realized that in my selfish absorption of the surroundings, I had only managed to take pictures of the house, the town, and the beach...but not of the party or the party guests the night before. I tried to rectify that now, and got a couple of pictures snapped...right before the storm hit.

Rain, lighting, torrential winds. Our door- and window-free room was soaked. The roads were slippery...so much so that we could not risk leaving for the evening. There was no food in the house, as such an eventuality had not been prepared for. A half-cup of rice and two tortillas were rationed out to everyone, and that had to suffice until morning. What’s worse, in a situation of this magnitude, is that we were out of booze. And non-alcoholic beverages...but at this point, who wanted THOSE? Had we but left at 8:00 as planned, none of this would have mattered. But for the fourth time this weekend, we had found ourselves waiting for others.

Enough was enough, and TJ and I retired for the evening. With our room soaked, we were graciously given Cory’s room, the only room in the house with windows, doors, and protective screens in case said windows shattered in a storm such as this. You’re probably wondering what became of Cory. So was I. Well, unbeknownst to us, he had been hospitalized during the day. What he had thought of as potential food poisoning was actually Dengue fever. Yeah. Remember my comment about the bugs and the can of OFF! ?

Needless to say, sleep did not come easily or often Saturday night. If I wasn't worried about bug bites, I was worried about breaking windows or mudslides. And even the giant oscillating fan perched on the railing above the bed. It provided a nice breeze, but looked deadly, were it to fall. Yes, I realize that at this point I was simply looking for the next woe-is-me moment. We awoke early and, having packed our bags the night before, departed Sayulita shortly after sunrise.

I feel badly for Mick. He worked really hard to put this party together, and between accusations of theft, monstrous storms, and the very likely clear lack of amusement on my face toward the end, he must have felt that it all somehow fell short.

I won’t say that he’s wrong in that regard, but I am glad for having had the experience. I love exploring new places, even when all doesn’t go according to plan.

And besides, who doesn't enjoy a good old fashioned National Lampoon's style weekend every once in awhile?

Nuevo Vallarta

In what has become a Mexico tradition, we once again spent TJ’s birthday weekend on the beaches of tourist-laden Vallarta.

Only this time it wasn’t Puerto Vallarta, but nearby Nuevo Vallarta instead, that called our names.

Puerto Vallarta, the beach/hotel/resort getaway of choice for many Mexicans (as well as Americans and Canadians!) has gotten too big for it’s britches in recent years, and the solution was to set up a residential & resort community 15 miles to the north on the adjacent shorelines of the state of Nayarit.

Whereas Puerto Vallarta is filled with old hotels, restaurants, and homes, many of which are in need of maintenance but are nevertheless worth visiting for the historical element (and let's face it, party atmosphere) alone, Nuevo Vallarta was created merely to be a one-stop shopping experience for today’s R&R-minded traveller.

The beach is lined with sparkly, shiny, all-inclusive resorts, and we opted for one of three (three!) Riu resorts, dubbed Riu Jalisco (Never mind the fact that we were in Nayarit).

Joining us on this three-day weekend was our friend Sergio (Yeyo), with whom I had recently attended the Selena Gomez concert. He was replacing our other friend Sergio (confusing, much?), who himself was back in town for a quick vacation from his home in Mexicali. We previously visited Tesoro Resort with him, and he had been looking forward to this weekend for months but had to cancel last minute due to bronchitis. I saw him a couple of days before we left, and he looked a hot mess. Hope you feel better soon, amigo! Actually, since I’m writing this six days later, I hope you’re all better NOW. Otherwise, go to the doctor, cuz you might be dying.

Sergio #1’s loss was Sergio # 2’s gain, as Riu Jalisco was a drastic improvement over Tesoro. The food was better, and more plentiful. The rooms were cleaner. The drinks were sweeter (not everyone’s preference, but they were just plain bitter at Tesoro, which is NOONE’S preference). The evening entertainment was less campy, and highly enjoyable.

I don’t want to speak too poorly of Tesoro, because we did have fun there. Of course, it was our first all-inclusive experience so we had nothing to judge it by. Now, we do. On second thought, our recent stay at a no-inclusive hotel in Manzanillo was better than Tesoro as well, so maybe Tesoro wasn’t all that great to begin with.

The weekend in Nuevo Vallarta was spent in perfect laziness. Mornings on the beach and afternoons by the pool interrupted only by our need to eat and sleep. I read most of Ricky Martin’s memoir, Me, which I’m hating so much that it will probably get its own blog post once I’ve finished it just so I can talk about how vile it is. We turned on the Super Bowl just long enough to watch Madonna’s Halftime Show…and then quickly made for the Internet to see what people had to say about it. Y’all are nasty. Give the woman a break, she’s in her 50’s! Okay, the new song and the cheerleader motif were a bit tacky and that trashy M.I.A. shouldn’t have flipped the bird…But the rest was rockin’.

We spent one evening in the resort’s nightclub, but it was so boring (i.e. full of old grannies) and smelly (THINK: feet or poop or used feminine hygiene products or maybe all three) that we decided to head into Puerto Vallarta proper the following evening for a true night on the town. Our final evening was spent dining at the resort’s churrascuria, where our table caught on fire. We suspect arson. Or maybe it was for show. Either way, it made the food taste delicious!

All told, it was an excellent weekend.

My only regret is that I am writing this blog from the Guadalajara International Airport, where I await a flight to Houston that will allow me to be with my mother as she undergoes a minor medical procedure tomorrow. It is my parents’ first health scare since I left Texas nine years ago, and I feel that it is important that I be there for them. They are both scared, and I want them to know that no matter where the Foreign Service takes us, I can, and will, be there when they need me.

I just wish I was leaving tomorrow instead, because today is TJ’s actual birthday. He assured me that it was fine, and that he had all the fun he needed over the weekend, but I still feel guilty for not being there this evening. And so, I end this blog with the one thing he wanted but did not receive this weekend, the Mexican Birthday song:

Feliz cumpleaños, mi amor. Ya te extraño.

Manzanillo

Waaayyyy back in August, TJ and I joined a couple of friends for a weekend getaway at Tesoro Resort in Manzanillo. As fun as the weekend was, I never quite felt like I actually saw Manzanillo, as we spent the entire time at our all-inclusive.

I’ve wanted to rectify this ever since, and last weekend we finally booked ourselves a nothing-inclusive hotel on the beach.

Was it everything I hoped it would be? Well, to give you an idea, this was a typical conversation in the days leading up to our weekend getaway:

Friend: Doing anything this weekend?

Me: Yep! We’re going to Manzanillo.

Friend: Great! What resort are you staying at?

Me: No resort this time. I want to actually see the city, so we just booked normal hotel.

Friend: Oh…

I must have had that same conversation at least three times, and let me tell you, after visiting Manzanillo sans resort, my nose was crinkling, too.

Manzanillo is not what you would call a pretty town. Although tourism is an important industry, you can tell that it plays second fiddle to trade: The docks were overrun with merchant ships and fishing vessels. The downtown historical center is not without promise, but it could definitely use a couple of coats of paint. Something I’ve noticed about every village, town, or city in Mexico is the plethora of dining options. You can’t throw a rock without hitting a restaurant, fruit cart, or taco stand of some kind. Except in tourist-heavy Manzanillo, where dining options are inexplicably limited.

I do give credit where credit is due, and gladly share the following:

1) El Vaquero is a steakhouse well worth your time. They understand that us gringos like chips and salsa and they offer a nice variety. Their guacamole is good, their tortillas are fresh, and they serve up the best fajitas I’ve had since leaving the US (Please note: Fajitas appear to be more of an American dish, making this more a comment about me and less an insult to Mexican culinary ability).

2) The Burger King here appears to be the only one in Mexico capable of filling an order correctly.

3) Camino Real serves up a mean club sandwich smothered in egg salad.

The nightlife is miserably nonexistent. We were only able to find one club that might appeal to us, which as fortune would have it was a few blocks from our hotel. We arrived a little after 10PM to find maybe a dozen others inside. An hour later and not much had changed. We also couldn’t decide, before or after entering, whether this was a gay or straight bar. I don’t think anybody else new either. This might account for the utter lack of dancing, despite uncomfortable, desperately awkward pleas from the bar staff.

The one really cool thing about the city was this little artisan market that had been set up for the weekend beside the local Wal-Mart. We discovered the market by sheer accident on a toiletries run...since neither one of us bothered to pack that particular bag. Among the dozens of booths we found a vendor selling alebrije, a popular art style from Oaxaca that consists of hand carving animals from copal wood and then painting them in the most beautifully elaborate design schemes. We've seen this art style everywhere but had been holding off on making a purchase until we were able to visit Oaxaca itself. Sadly, as our time in Mexico draws to a close, we've realized that this particular trip will just have to wait for another time. Since this vendor had the most beautiful examples of the art we've seen yet, this was the perfect opportunity to buy.

It may sound at this point as if, other than the market, we hated the weekend, but I assure you that this is not the case. I merely wanted to be able to fully express how much I value the beach-hotel combo experience in Manzanillo. Despite any agitation I may have experienced in the city, our lodging at Camino Real was pure comfort.

We found ourselves in a suite, complete with kitchen and dining room, living room, and two full bed/bathrooms. We had a small balcony that overlooked the beach and pool deck. There were multiple pools and Jacuzzis to choose from, which the staff gladly let us use after hours. I think they were just happy to have guests, as this appears to be the down season (as evidenced but the killer rate we got on the room).

They provided us with deck chairs and a large umbrella, and we spent quality time together reading on the beach, listening to music, and splashing around in the ocean. The water did turn brown and frothy one afternoon, but I can’t blame the hotel for that, as it was the red tide rolling in, and I certainly couldn’t say whether or not the same scenario played out on the other side of the cove at the all-inclusives. Regardless, I was out of the water by then, so you’ll hear no complaints from me.

Our final morning saw us waking at dawn to watch the sun rise over the Pacific. Leaning out the window, we quickly saw that we weren’t alone. A small fishing boat and its hardworking crew were battling the gulls, pelicans, and ducks for the day’s fish haul. We found ourselves migrating to the beach to watch in fascination as this hour-long spectacle played out. Our excitement slowly morphed to sadness as it became obvious that those fish unfortunate enough to come ashore prior to the main net being tied off would die for nothing. Drying out on the beach surrounded by fisherman too lazy to throw them in with the main haul, these fish would simply be abandoned to…I don’t know what. Maybe the birds will take them later. I’m by no means a vegetarian (see fajita comment) but I do think if you’re going to kill something you should at least make use of it.

Okay, sorry. I’m stepping off of the soapbox now.

Long story short, I love this town…if looking out of an ocean-facing window from my (preferably all-inclusive) hotel room. I feel that most people must surely agree.

As I sat down today to write this blog, I had to think of all the cruise ships that visit Manzanillo over the course of a year. The beaches and accompanying hotels and restaurants are generally nice, but the city itself is lacking in …well, just about everything. What could those ships actually sell you as an excursion? Certainly not a night at a resort, as that’s someone else’s gimmick. I did some snooping around on cruise line websites, but didn’t find much to write home about. When I visited Yahoo! Travel, this is what I found:

…

…

…yep. That’s about right.

Puerto Vallarta

For TJ's 30th Birthday Extravaganza we decided to go on a road trip to the American beach town of Puerto Vallarta for an extended weekend (thanks to yet another local holiday).

Puerto Vallarta is locat...what? It's NOT an American beach town? Well, ok, I guess you're right. But I will say that I haven't seen such a large concentration of gringos since my days living in central Texas.

Puerto Vallarta, along with Cozumel and Cancun, is one of the most popular tourist destinations for American travelers. I would encourage any of you in the states that have considered foreign travel but are afraid of the language barrier to give Vallarta a chance. Almost everyone speaks English (which wasn't necessarily a good thing for us, as we wanted to practice our Spanish...at least a little) and the environment is so laid back and relaxed that you'll never want to leave.

I have heard rumblings that some US-based cruise lines have cancelled cruises to PV. Visual evidence to the contrary, Americans aren't travelling here as much as they used to. They are afraid of the narco violence. To anyone reading this, I implore you: don't let fear rule your life. Vallarta is as safe as any of the other port towns your cruise ship will dock in. Violence on the border does not equal violence on the beach.

Anyway, Puerto Vallarta is a 365 kilometer drive from Guadalajara, and to get there you have to drive northwest for a while, then zig-zag through the mountains before heading southwest, ultimately arriving at a location that is directly west of Guadalajara. Most of that zig-zagging occurs on a two-lane road, and travel times will vary widely depending on time of day. For us, it was a six hour drive going and a four hour drive returning. (Tip: mid-morning travel is highly recommended). Despite the distance, the ride is a pleasant one filled with beautiful landscapes.

Now, for the beach...I've never been much of a beach person. Living in Florida for seven years, I think I went to Daytona and Miami Beach once each. My three trips to Key West never saw me setting foot on the shore.

With that said, I LOVE PUERTO VALLARTA!

Despite a day trip here and there, TJ and I haven't had a vacation to speak of since before this crazy Foreign Service life began. In fact, we're about to hit our one-year FS anniversary (stay tuned for a future post regarding that!) so a 3-night getaway was a welcome break from the day-to-day.

The beaches were gorgeous; Busy, but not crowded. The bars and clubs were fun; Crowded, but not overflowing. The restaurants were amazing; delicious, but not expensive. In fact, we discovered a new favorite dish (stay tuned for another future post regarding that!). I got the most amazing massage. Soaked in a little sun. Walked along the shore and just felt...at peace.

Vallarta is definitely somewhere to which I would like to return. And soon.

The area that we stayed (Playa de los Muertos) was bustling with activity of an artistic nature along the shoreline. There were sporadic sidewalk art shows, random beachside demonstations, inumerable art galleries, and dozens of permanent scultptures to be explored. Every turn of the head provided some new hidden treasure.

Here are a few of them.

(Oh, and for anybody that's wondering...no, he never did get that particular rock to balance. But I was quite impressed with the upper body strength it must have required to even lift it in the first place.)

This trip provided such sheer and utter physical relaxation and visual stimulaton that I somehow managed to walk away without capturing a single picture of us. Either that, or the fact that we're too self-conscious to take beach pics. Oh well. I guess that means we have to go back!

Wish I was here...maybe soon