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Dominoes on the Deck of Our Condo

Bruce and Mary are still in their vacation condo, but the day of reckoning is quickly approaching. No vacation can last forever and in order to make their escape to Mexico permanent, Bruce plans on getting after plan B. Plan A, the Libros y Suenos Hotel as a possible income property, did not pan out. Let’s see what, if anything, he accomplishes on this particular day in Paradise.

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I am having this strange dream about me and boyhood chum Howie Solheim having bought a gym in Milaca, near Princeton, MN where we grew up. It only cost 25K but we find that none of the equipment works. I am in the process of trying to renege on the deal when I am awakened by the “Mexican Quickstep”. The cramps are mild, so I’m not concerned but I do think Freud would have quick interpretation for this dream sequence.

It is daybreak so I stay up and get the coffee going at the same time the workers next door start their day. They are in the tile cutting stage and we’re not sure what is more annoying, the high pitched whine of the tile cutting saws or the superfine grit that finds its way into all parts of our condo. We put up with the noise and have our colorful fruit breakfast on the deck as usual. On this sun splashed day, the beauty of the sparkling waves stretching to the haze where dark blue touches sky blue is all the cure we need for these annoyances.

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After busing breakfast dishes Mary and I do our homemade yoga out of a book and then some body weight resistance exercises. Now we feel on top of our game, except for my quickstep

, and ready to tackle plan B of figuring out a way to make a little money and stick down here. The end of the vacation part of our escape to México is drawing nigh and it is time to buckle down.

Mary gets out our file and we look at a number of print-outs from our pre-escape research but all the B&Bs or small hotels that are in our price range state cash terms. We have discovered, with our Libros y Suenos Hotel experience that when they say cash, they mean cash. The other print-outs are for properties that are priced, cash or finance, beyond our means, if we want to be honest with ourselves. We have found through experience that self deception can lead you to places that are appear totally different on the inside looking out than what you thought you saw on the outside looking in. But as “W” would say, enough philosophization.

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Looks like plan B will have to wait until we get back online to hopefully find more choices and that will have to wait until tomorrow because my small disorder is still rumbling away and I do not want to stray too far from home. But it is a nearly perfect day to relax at our beach, so we do so! Mary does her crosswords and I read my low brow sci-fi between dips in the ocean.

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Tom and Pam from Spokane

stop by to chat. They tell of a friend of a friend who had a MCI, heart attack, in Progreso, and was whisked to a Mérida hospital. She had stent therapy, same as I had 3 years ago. But the big difference was her experience cost a total of $4000US, mine cost $35,000US. Another difference is my cardiologist stared at his watch while discharging me. This gal’s cardiologist gave her his email address and cell phone number. We had looked at a number of insurance options before coming down, but they all seem too expensive and we thought we’d we just go self-insured, ie: without, until we figured something out while living here. But after hearing this story and with some other research we might stay pat for awhile yet. We can afford $4000.

The construction workers have knocked off for the day so we decide to play dominoes on the deck. Appropriately, Mexican Train is our game of choice. I win for the first time in many matches but Mary keeps the score respectable. Even though I won almost every hand she has this most annoying habit of getting stuck with very few pips. On one hand I stuck her with just one tile and then it was a double zero! I felt like I lost.

The sun is nearing the horizon as we finish up the game and it occurs to me that we have not actually seen the sun set right into the ocean. Hurriedly we rush out the door and onto the beach. Walking quickly we traverse the shore line west, hollering “Hola” to Justo our condo neighbor who is leaning on his deck railing enjoying the view. We round the bend and see the sun about one diameter above the indistinct horizon. It sinks quickly and then seems to momentarily flatten against the edge of the world before sinking into the ocean in an orange blaze and is gone. I feel like a child when I wonder why the day isn’t instantly dark, because the sun has suddenly disappeared.

We walk leisurely back to the condo, and we feel almost like you do when you walk out onto the sidewalk after a good movie at the show house; somehow your surroundings seem surreal.

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Back in the condo, I’m quickly brought back to reality by another cockroach sighting. 

It’s not exactly as if I’m a serial cockroach killer, we’ve only been visited by a few but I must say, all modesty aside, that I have developed quite the cockroach killing blow. With a magazine or shoe in hand I hit them with just the right amount of force to kill but not mash, which is messy. I deliver the perfect killing blow to this unfortunate cockroach and dispose of the carcass with nothing left behind for cockroach CSI.

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We’re starting early, so we watch a couple DVD movies: “All of Me“, for which Steve Martin should have received an Academy Award and then we view Tom Hank’s “Castaway“. The mini movie marathon concludes at 10:30 and we are aghast, this is the latest we’ve been up for weeks. Off to bed and tomorrow we’ll check out the Shangrila gym and get online to investigate the local scene for small hotels and B&Bs that are on the market.

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Thanks for visiting gentle reader. What do you think Bruce and Mary will accomplish tomorrow? Mary is on task but Bruce seems to be in the moment a bit much, don’t you think? Bruce appreciates any and all commentary. To comment, click on the post title and scroll down. Bruce acknowledges all comments in, what they call north of the border, “real time”. Revenge of the Ninja ipod download The Answer Man aka Arlen Faber movie

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The vacation portion of Bruce and Mary’s new life in México continues as they meet like-minded neighbors, and learn of Mexican laundry and Yucatecan history.

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We have the chance to meet more of our condo neighbors; Tom and Pam from Spokane. They’ve retired early like us, only with pensions and money, unlike us, but we like them anyhow. We have a lot in common; they like to have fun, drink beer, and they think Canadians are crazy, too. And we mutually wonder how it has come to be, that Canadians outnumber Americans 10 to 1, here on the beach.

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Their journey to these condos was not as fortunate as ours. Like us, they arranged for their beachside condo on the internet. A big difference though, was when they got to their condo, late at night in early February; they had no water and no electricity. Tom and Pam, being much more easy going than most people, put up with this for 5 days! Conditions got to a point that a good neighbor ran an extension cord to their unit so they had juice enough to run the water pump. Their toilet tank was dry, it’d been five days and they really needed to flush. Luckily, through a chance meeting, they found their way to our very nice, electrified condo complex.

Pam, having tired of schlepping their laundry all the way into Chicxulub, has arranged a laundry service to come by and she wonders if we would like to participate. Sure! A couple days later, Pam stops by to tell us that she gave up waiting for the laundry lady and she has hauled their stuff and ours to the laundry in Chicxulub. They’d already picked up their laundry but ours wasn’t ready yet. We thank them and as we are heading into Chic anyhow, this works out fine. We do begin to wonder just how stretched out Mexican time really is; this laundry woman, Justo’s plumber, the list goes on, but…does it really matter? No! We came here to be on Mexican time and these little inconveniences simply do not matter.

We combi our way into town, and upon debarking this 12 passenger Dodge van we cross the street to the laundry and pick up our smallish shrink wrapped bag of clean clothes for 67P! We understand this exorbitant price, when we see the owner pull up in his late model Extended Cab 4×4 Ford pickup. Next door is the panaderia Dark Honeymoon hd download Halloweentown High , bakery, and we knock on the locked door. The owner points at the sign, he doesn’t open for 15 minutes. Okay; it reminds me of the time I arrived at the Alexandria, MN library front door five minutes early, shivering in the 12 below arctic chill. Personnel stared at me until the stroke of 9. At least here I can get a suntan while I wait.

We shop for beer, just enough to tide us by, we have not figured out the beer dilemma Stomp the Yard divx yet and with those chores done we head to the popular local watering hole, Los Barrillos, The Barrels, for a couple cervezas, botanas, snacks, and free wifi. The beers are 19P, the cheapest served beer we have found yet. It’s a steamy day and this un-airconditioned bar is comfortable simply because of the numerous ceiling fans spinning away. After a couple beers, emails, and free botanas we hit the road and combi to our driveway. Our supplies are minimal, so we don’t pay the 10P premium to ride to our step, but walk the ½ mile dirt road.

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We’re pretty sweaty on this February day by the time we reach the condos, so I dive into the ocean and Mary takes advantage of the common pool. After our dips we see our condo rep Jaromey sitting in the shade waiting for a client. We help her kill time by happily participating in her Yucatecan history primer.

It seems Yucatan came late to the Mexican union, and in the early years of statehood, it was isolated by a lack of roads to the rest of México. Yucatan had been profitably trading with France and Spain and other European countries for many years at that time, and with 60% of the population consisting of Maya, Yucatan had and has retained its own unique identity. Even today, it is not uncommon to hear a Yucatecan say something like, “I’ll be taking a trip to México next week.” as if he isn’t standing in México at the time. Yucatecans take their identity as Yucatecans first, Mexicans second. Characterizing the very local scene, Jaromey goes on to tell us that some Progresans do not like Meridanos very much. They feel that Mérida tourists treat their town and beach as a playground in which they leave their trash and treat locals as personal servants. This is interesting; it reminds me of the way some people in our former home, the resort town of Alexandria, feel about Minneapolis tourists. I guess some things are universal.

Jaromey’s customer shows up and we take our leave. Mary fixes us a light supper on the deck: avocado, sliced onion, and tomato on toasted bread with jicama sticks, as we watch the sun set on the Gulf of México. It’s just another day in Paradise.

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Thanks for visiting gentle reader. Bruce welcomes any and all commentary. He is curious, did you like this post, did it stink, or did it simply bore you to tears? To comment, click on the title of this post and scroll down. As usual, all comments will be acknowledged, politely, and in real time.

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Along the Malecon

At this point in Bruce and Mary’s story they are in the vacation phase of their escape to México, living large on the Gulf of México coast, and figuring out the details of life on the beach. Stay tuned for information about Dollars and Pesos, cell phones, Mexican beer, and taxi tipping.

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 Greetings, intrepid reader. Today is our first foray into

Progreso by ourselves without Jaromey, our condo rep, holding our hands.

We start the day by successfully navigating the combis, 12 passenger Ford and Dodge vans, with a transfer at the Chicxulub stop, into Progreso. Not knowing where to get off, we end up at the little combi terminal which is in a handy location, close to our errands.

Our first order of business is….. get money! Actually exchange our Dollars for Pesos

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. Some people think and I have actually heard people say, “Oh they love Dollars, you don’t need to change your money.” Well that, my friends, is true for some vendors, because they will make money on the sale and then, when they give you change for your Dollars in Pesos, they will make money on the exchange.

We see no money change houses, casas de cambio Death Hunt dvd , but lots of banks. We spot a rare Mexican bank with a short waiting line and we change our money. This day in February of 08 the exchange rate is 10.82 Pesos per Dollar.

 Next order of business:  Get one of the cheap preloaded cell phones we have heard about. On the Malecon, we find one of the ubiquitous c-stores, Oxxo which carry them. We choose the 299P phone over the 399P choice which simply had a larger screen. We find that they come preloaded with 200P of calling time, so the cost of the phone is only 100P or about $9US. The clerk happily activates it, gratis, and we are in business. There is no owner’s manual for this Motorola, only a little pamphlet that gives the specifications, in Spanish. However the phone is intuitive and I am able to put a number in the directory, our condo rep, Jaromey’s.

 Next on our to-do list is get a lift for the Christmas sandals I received from my daughter, Helen. I’ve never worn sandals in my life but this is the new Mexican me. I have a short leg from an accident years ago so all my right shoes require a lift. We go on the hunt for a shoe repair man and we discover a little stand on the edge of a park. This is not Cancun where all the locals speak English. Thankfully, Mary speaks pretty decent Spanish and we make arrangements to get the lift put in and the quote is unbelievable, my last lift in Minnesota cost $75, this one, 120P or $11US. We arrange to pick it up the next day.

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Time for lunch. We walk the few blocks to La Habana on the Malecon and fire up our laptop as our server, a tiny man with a pencil thin mustache appears at our table. Jorge takes our order, a torta de atun, tuna fish sandwich for me and molletes

, refried beans, onions, tomatoes and cheese melted on slices of bread. Mary emails the kids and then we see on our Skype program that Judy our backyard neighbor (backdoor Judy when we want to give her a hard time) is online so we startle the crap out of her by calling. We exchange temperatures, 3F in Minnesota, 85F here, so of course we rub it in. We say our goodbyes as our food comes and we re-order cervezas. Jorge returns quickly to tell us that they have run out! This is our initial encounter with the Mexican phenomena of businesses often being out of stock of commonly purchased items. Not a big deal normally, but in the case of beer, it’s a little demoralizing but we quickly recover and practically inhale our food.

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Before we settle up, Mary Googles nopales, cactus, recipes but she is unclear on the prep of the cactus leaves. She asks Jorge and he instantly takes her on a tour of the kitchen where a chef shows her how, first hand. Jorge has ensured himself a nice tip.

Armed with cactus power we march along the Malecon towards where we think the Bodega Aurerra supermarket is, however, this takes us right by Buddy’s, a popular expat watering hole, according to Jaromey. Mary wants that beer we never got so we stop in and belly up to the bar. We ask to meet the famous Buddy who radiates a benign boredom as we try to make conversation with him but he does present us with a Yucatan Today magazine which, we understand, is the bible for the Yucatan tourist, and hard to come by. Mary, professional proofreader she is, spots a couple of typos and she says, “I want to work there.” I laugh. Little did we know then, how involved we would become with the good people of Yucatan Today in just a few months. In further perusing, we find a map of Progreso in the magazine and we see exactly where the supermarket is.

We walk the 10 block walk to Bodega in the Yucatecan heat. The air conditioning of the store is most welcome. Mary heads for produce and sundries, my job is beer. I’m bummed at the cost of the popular beers such as Sol and Dos Equis and I first become conscious of the Mexican beer conundrum. I can buy 3 hand sized fillets of Mero, grouper for 22P, about $2US but a six pack of Sol is about five bucks! I settle on Gallo, a Guatemalan import that runs only 28P per six pack but it’s not Mexican beer.

We’re back out in the heat with our 50 pounds of groceries and debating the 8 block walk to the combi stop and fooling around with the combi layover in Chicxulub or just taking one of the taxis right in front of us. Cheap sucker that I am, I do the math and I am willing to pay about a 70P premium, a total of 100P, for a taxi ride to the door of our condo. The taxi driver says 120P. We’re sweating, the bags are heavy, we don’t argue.

On the way we debate what the tip should be if any, our privacy insured by the driver’s lack of English. I win out, saying that when they give you a quote that’s all they want. At the condo I pay the 120P with 150P in bills and the driver happily gives us change while telling us the Mayan words for “We’re here!” which we don’t write down and promptly forget.

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 We put away the supplies, grab beers and hit the patio to gaze at the Gulf of México panorama. It’s been a good day.

 Thanks for visiting gentle reader. Bruce welcomes any and all commentary on this or any other piece. As usual, all comments will be acknowledged and questions answered, in real time.

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The story to this point has Bruce and Mary’s escape plan to México executed as they begin their month long stay on the beach just outside Chicxulub Puerto. You Don’t Mess with the Zohan hd Illuminating Angels & Demons dvdrip 7 Wise Dwarfs dvd In Enemy Hands download Frost/Nixon divx

I am up at 6:45 All the Invisible Children film , feeling great after a good night’s sleep. I quit my coffee abstinence brewing up a pot of good old Mexican Joe. I’d quit several months ago in an effort to get my 140/90 blood pressure down. I know I’m in shape and fit, personal trainer that I am. It will come down, here in México. Our first morning we must walk the beach and we do. The sand is coarser than the sugar sand of the Caribbean coast  but finer than the pacific coast and the ocean is greenish blue and a little murky, not the crystal clear aquamarine we’re used to in Playa or Cancun, but it will certainly do. The coastline is fully developed with old and new beach houses of every style and painted in vivid Mexican hues. The only thing they all share is their concrete construction. We meet some neighbors on the beach, French speaking Canadians (we will find that 9 of 10 English speakers here on the coast will be Canadians)  who have been doing extensive remodeling having made by their estimation 30 trips to Home Depot in Mérida. Asking of transportation, they think it is a good deal to rent a car for the three months they are here for $2100US. Okay. We take our leave to get ready for condo manager Jaromey’s orientation tour and grocery run. download Addams Family Values

We sit in the shade, in 90 degrees, watching Jaromey pull into the gravel parking lot. We quickly tell her that the construction next door, which was an issue last on the ride here last night, was no problem this morning, little knowing that they hadn’t gotten to the 100 DB tile cutting stage, yet. We cruise into Progreso via Chicxulub’s main road, a very colorful ride that strays only a block or two from the ocean. We find that Chicxulub blends into Progreso and not even Jaromey is sure where one begins and the other ends. Suddenly we find ourselves in downtown Progreso, a port city of 50,000 souls and Jaromey is weaving in and out of this crazy Mexican traffic, which I have no desire to ever drive in, while she is conducting a flawless travelogue. She points out the best internet café, the bus depot, several fun joints, wifi restaurants, and at my request a popular gym in town.

We stop at La Habana, a wifi restaurant right on the malecon and break for a late lunch. Jorge, who becomes our friend over the next month, gives us the access code and we’re on the internet with our laptop. I quickly fire off emails to the family to let them know we’re in one piece and then join the women in conversation. I inquire into Jaromey’s background and this fascinating woman, fluent in three languages, takes us on a journey that begins in Ottawa with a successful hair weaving business for cancer patients to exotic family trips that would find their two boys playing soccer with the locals in the Sahara desert to a stint teaching English in South Korea with the boys mainstreaming in a local school. In 2003 she ended up in Playa Del Carmen. For cost of living purposes she ended up here in Progreso and started her property management business by offering to help look after a house for a friend.

 The bill comes and before I settle up I ask for some tip advice. Jaromey says 10% for everything and don’t over tip, as it is a disservice to the locals. She goes on to explain that over tipping will cause service providers to ignore locals in an effort to solicit your business. Works for me.

 Jaromey whisks us out to the Wal-Mart owned Bodega Aurerra, at the edge of town next to the highway. We stock up on beans, rice, peppers, tomatoes, papayas, mangos, jicama, and most importantly, tequila and beer. Everything is really cheap, except beer! That deserves its own post which it will get, later. Mary and Jaromey chat

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all the way back to the condo with no clue then, of the part they would play in each other’s lives in just a few months.

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Back to what we’re calling home now, Mary gets a meal cooking and joins me on the patio to sip cervezas and watch the sun sink into the Gulf of México. Our conversation is relaxed as we recount the day all the way up to chopping up the most brightly colored and succulent red, green, and jalapeno peppers we have ever seen. This first day of our escape to México has been nearly perfect.

Thank you for visiting gentle reader. Please join Bruce and Mary as they explore the Gulf Coast on this, the decompression part of their escape. Soon they will have to prepare for real life, in México. Stay tuned to see if what they learn vacationing can really help set them free in México. All comments are very welcome and will be acknowledged in real time. Adios!     Gutterballs download An American Affair full movie

The story to this point has Bruce and Mary conceiving the dream and concocting the plan to set themselves free in México. They have successfully leased their house and booked one way tickets to Mérida, the capital of Yucatan.

Finally The Grey Zone divx the day we had been waiting for, the day of our escape to México, Friday, February 15, 2008, dawned. Actually it was a long ways from dawn at 4AM, when the alarm went off. Our youngest, Joey, picked us up at my mother’s place in Foley for the ride to Lindberg International airport and on the way we stopped at General Mills for a tour of his workplace. Joey had just become gainfully employed, fresh out of college, in one of GM’s flour order processing sectors. At his cubicle we spot the photo of him at age 4 playing with flour and a sifter. Some things are meant to be.

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We had the tearful good bye at the airport with Joey and Helen, who we picked up at her uptown apartment. We had planned not to be back until for Mary’s annual May 17^th party. Once inside the terminal we immediately got our gate passes, juggled 9 pounds of stuff into a carry-on because we were overweight on one checked bag, cleared security and sprinted to the nearest bar for Bloody Marys and beer chasers to calm our nerves. Actually that’s our flying MO whether we have jitters or not, but that was a good excuse. 

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The flight departed and we arrived at Continental’s hub, Houston’s George Bush Intercontinental Airport

, on time and we quickly deplaned. Out of the gate area, we looked at several flight status boards and couldn’t find our connecting flight to Mérida. I flagged a security guy and he told us that most international flights fly out of gate E which is in a totally different terminal. It sounded like we had to take a shuttle, take a hike, and then hitchhike the rest of the way to gate E. We were jabbering about how this airport is as stupid as the “current resident” of the same name when a tall, good looking guy, wearing a $1000 suit and sneakers, overhears us and striding off says, “Follow me!” This 40 something radio sales consultant led our little expedition to gate E and kept briskly walking to his gate beyond, having done his good deed for the day.

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Once we knew where our gate was we had a bite at a seafood place. My fried alligator bits and Mary’s chicken wrap (she has an aversion to anything that swims) came to $40US. We both said simultaneously, we won’t miss this about the US. A Charlie Brown Christmas move

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We meandered back to the gate in plenty of time and everything about our flight to Mérida was routine. We deplaned at 9PM and while we waited in the immigration snake line a 2 year old who had been running around out of control, finally crashed and burned and started crying inconsolably. God, it was a combination of eardrum piercing shrieks and teeth grinding howling. Everyone in line is thinking seriously of throttling that brat when over the PA system an immigrations officer says in perfect English, “All those with crying babies, to the front of the line!” Everyone cheers.

We cleared customs easily, getting the green light. The couple behind us, who had been glaring at us since immigration, evidently thinking we had cut in line at some point (we were unaware of it) got the red light, and had all their luggage opened up for close inspection. Some say the red light is not random, customs people save it for ornery people. In the clear now, I made the one phone call that I intended to make in México with my US cell phone. It was to Jaromey, the property manager I’d found on the internet who had secured us our one month in the beach-side condo at the incredibly low price of $700US . I confirmed the 10:30 rendezvous with her at the Pemex gas station in Progreso, the port and beach town that serves Mérida. I did so and we headed out the main doors of that compact terminal and took a left to the taxi stand. $56US later we and our luggage were headed the 40Km to Progreso at breakneck speed. As we approached Progreso and saw the well lit Pemex station, I looked at my watch and remarked to Mary that this rendezvous, set a month ago, was going to come off to the exact minute. We were feeling karmically correct. We detaxi and an attractive, fine featured blonde woman gets out of a candy apple red Ford Festiva. She extends her hand to me and says, “You must be Bruce.” I shake her hand, “You must be Jaromey.” I introduced her to Mary and then we crow-barred our bags into that tiny Festiva. Mary went into the c-store to buy some essentials and I chatted with Jaromey in the car. I found that she was a single woman with two teenagers living with their dad back home in Ottowa. There was a pause in the conversation and she said, “Bruce there is something that has been weighing heavily on my mind.” This sounded intriguing and foreboding. “Yes?” I said. “I did explain why you got such a good deal on the condo, didn’t I?” She asked. “Actually no, we talked of many things but not that.” I responded. At this point Mary joined us with our groceries and Jaromey explained that the good deal was because of the construction right next door. She wondered if we were early risers, which we are, and that that would mitigate things she thought. We’re a little bummed but it didn’t appear we had any redress even though Jaromey obviously felt badly about this omission.

We were about 5 Kms east of Chicxulub Puerto when we took a left off the highway onto the dirt road that was the approach to the condo complex. In the parking lot we unloaded our luggage and Jaromey helped us schlep it to our 2^nd level condo. It was a really nice, completely furnished three bedroom, 2 bathroom unit with a patio overlooking the gulf. We could hear the surf crashing down below in the moonlight. As we walked Jaromey back to her car she showed us the common pool area which she told us should be sheltered from any construction noise. As we saw her off,  she volunteered to pick us up at noon the next day to orient us to Progreso and pick up groceries in the process. Back in our condo we were exhausted by the day of travel and we tried to put a positive spin on the construction issue but we had a hard time doing so because we were so upset about not having any beer. We’d missed off-sale hours by a half an hour at Pemex. It just didn’t seem right that you couldn’t buy beer whenever you wanted to, in México!

Thanks for visiting, gentle reader. It was promised last post that you would hear about crazy Canadians (Jaromey doesn’t qualify) and exploring the gulf coast. Unfortunately Bruce got way too long-winded about escape day, and this other stuff will have to come in subsequent posts. And that right soon. Comments, as always, are welcome.

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