setfreeinmexico.com

Bruce and Mary are in México for Easter for the third year in a row. They’re not very religious and certainly not Roman Catholic as is most of this country. Let’s see what Easter weekend is like for this zenner couple.

Good Friday is weird, here. We are working our shifts, holiday shifts as it were, since for our Canadian firm this day is an official holiday. Our Canadian friends are surprised to hear that it is not in the States. As this relates to our jobs, most of the posters to the online forum that we moderate are at home, not working, which means that they’re not at their work desks informing the whole world of their awe inspiring insight to every story that hits our Canadian news website. In other words it is a slow day and only a skeleton crew is in place.

We log off and I make some online chess moves in the games I am playing with Kevin D, Sammy our hijo major, and his old chum Josh, who is almost a member of the family. Then we figure we’ll head out for a bite. There is no traffic and it is eerily quiet. We don’t even hear any music in the distance which is really weird. At the corner of the block we find our favorite bar El Lucero del Alba closed. Hmmm. We reverse directions and walk a couple blocks to our favorite cantina, La Gran Lucha. Closed. We walk over to El Choperia, a nice Brazilian/Mexican fusion restaurant/bar. Closed. We walk further down Calle 56 to the Jazz Club. Closed. And that is when we give up and head home for our own botanitas while we watch a couple of movies.

Saturday starts promisingly with a bright sky and warm temps, it seems we may be getting back to normal after all these nortes. We do our usual routine, working out at the California gym where I make a couple more friends, Ramon and Roberto. Ramon is pretty impressive, doing front squats with three plates.

Then we do our weekly shopping at Wal-Mart (we never shopped at Wal-Mart in the states for the reasons that people don’t, but it is different here) and the rest of the day we just relax. We’re saving ourselves for tomorrow, Easter Sunday, beach day for us. We took Monday off because we have to finish up our FM3 visas renewals but what that means in this story is that Monday we can sleep in.

Sunday dawns the gorgeous day we were hoping for and after we fool around on our computers, drink a couple gallons of coffee, and have some breakfast we are out the door for the beach. The last time we took the Progreso bus to the beach on a Sunday morning, they had, because the bus terminal is on the Mérida en Domingo biciruta, bicycle route which is closed to traffic, temporarily staged buses on a nearby street with personnel manning card tables selling tix. But we can’t remember exactly where that is, so we ask the cabbie if he knows where the Mérida en Domingo Progreso bus terminal is set up and he says, “Si, si.” So we hop in and take off.

Well after we have gone in a complete circle I am starting to get angry and the cabbie starts making excuses because of the biciruta. So we just get out, in the vicinity of buses we can see staging, pay the 30P taxi fee and hoof our way down the block to the staging area. Well, this ain’t the place, one of the drivers tells us and the directions he gives us are to the regular Progreso depot. We walk the two blocks and sure enough, people are lined up down the block to buy tix inside the depot. I guess the Progreso buses don’t care about the biciruta anymore.

We stand in line for probably about 20 minutes and spot our friend Bob, owner of Las Vigas, one of our favorite joints downtown, and wave at him. At Mary’s suggestion I butt in the bus loading line while she stays in the tix line and just as she gets to the window, a heavy set local gal butts in front of her and then takes forever to buy her tix. Meanwhile they are holding up one of the buses for me and Mary who are the last to board and wouldn’t you know, Mary gets the last seat and I get to stand the whole way to the beach. By this point you could grill a T-Bone steak, medium well, on my bald head. The whole point of coming to the depot was to guarantee seats, as we knew that hopping the bus at our usual stop on Av. Cupules, it would be standing room only. So we wend through town and by the time we get to the aforementioned bus stop I calculate that if we had stuck to our normal M.O. we’d be sitting on the beach right now. Grrrr!!

Well, the bus keeps on adding people at every stop and by the time we hit the superhighway, the bus is completely stuffed. But finally we do hit the depot and we debark into the hot sun with our beach gear and it is a good day once again.

We weave our way on the packed sidewalks to our cerveceria on the corner of the malecon and it is wall-to-wall people. The malecon is closed to traffic and there is a soundstage with live music going and beer and food vendors are filling the street.

Mary stops to get us a litro of Superior while I go on ahead with our gear to stake out our spot on the beach and it is busy, the beach is packed with middle class Yucatecans. The upper class is sitting in the shaded palapa restaurant/bars that line the beach. As I am getting out our portable beach chairs and beach blankets I see all manner of gerry rigged wind (it is breezy) and sun shelters. Families are setting up picnics on blankets and short legged collapsible tables.

Mary joins me and the first thing I do is take a dip in the green water. It is warmer than I thought it would be

and there is a genuine surf, in fact as the waves break I can actually feel a mild undertow pulling me back into the ocean. Back on shore, Mary pours Superior into our plastic glasses and after toweling off I light up our Cohiba cigar. We are right where we want to be, physically, mentally, and spiritually. What a perfect day.

Mary and I make small talk while enjoying the incredible people watching. I am caught up by the 12 yr old, sunglassed entrepreneur right in front of us. He has a big box of kites which serves as the anchor for the half dozen Styrofoam kites he is flying. The kites are in the shape of airplanes and spinners, wings with cores like an old fashioned lawnmower that spin at about 10,000rpm. This kid is cleaning up and looking so cool in the process.

I go for a refill and when I get back I find Mary with a bag of popcorn from a beach vendor. The popcorn is drenched with hot sauce and for 15P we have the best popcorn we have ever had in our lives.

The afternoon is waning but the beach and the malecon are just getting busier and busier. However, we are starting to burn and it time for a real meal. I return our litro for the 5P deposit, while Mary packs up, and it is 3 people deep at the counter and everyone is drunk and not very polite. People behind me are putting their empty litros in front of my face for refills. Finally I get my 5P back and find Mary on the beach. We decide it is just too busy at the beach side restaurants so we head back towards the bus depot and we remember a place along the way that looked kind of cool. We find it quickly and sit down in the shade.

Nick, fluent in English, having been raised in CA shoots the breeze with us as he takes our order. The beers are reasonable at 20P but the food is a little pricey. Finally we decide to split a 95P chicken burrito. It’s the perfect amount of food and after settling up we hit the road and arrive at the depot just as they are loading a bus for Mérida. We are one of the last ones to board but at least we both get a seat this time.

Forty minutes later we are debarking at Calle 47 to hoof the remaining 4 blocks home. We are beat but quite content; it has been a great day.

Thanks for visiting gentle reader. Feel free in sharing your Easter 2010. Bruce would love to hear about it. Hasta Pronto!

We’d been nagging Kevin and Shelly for a visit for some time and then we were lucky enough to have the happy confluence of Mary and Bill (fulfilling an open invite) teaming up with them. So in mid-March a big part of the old gang descended upon us. Here is that tale:

Mary and I have been parked in our beach chairs on the sidewalk, sipping Margaritas and beers, with our boom box flooding onto busy Calle 47 for about 2 hrs now. The sun has slipped away and we’re starting to wonder about Bill and Mary and their rental car. Suddenly we see a couple of tall silhouettes round the corner and here they are!

Bill says, “We’ve been within blocks of your place for over two flipping hours! I thought you lived in a residential area?!” Mary J gives us hugs and kisses as Bill sputters over my definition of a residential area in a Spanish Colonial city contrasted to the spacious front lawns of small town MN. But a couple beers later he is quite mollified. We take them back to the spare suite and then on the tour and they, like everyone before them, are amazed by the scale of the place.

After settling in we gather at the patio table on the promenade and Mary and I hustle botanas out from the kitchen for our starving friends, who have had nothing but pretzels since breakfast. We hear some more of their transit from Cancun, how they left the expressway for a two lane which added an extra 1 ½ hr and shunted them back to the toll road just in time for all the tolls. After I responded for the second or third time, “Well, Bill I wouldn’t really know about that, we’ve always taken the bus” Bill finally allowed that maybe he should have talked to us about the Cancun to Mérida trip, prior to booking the car but that arrangement had always worked well on their trips to Akumal on the Riviera Maya coast.

We party until the wee hours before we’re off to bed. Mary is not on duty tomorrow, I am but my shift is not until 10AM.

It’s Wednesday and another Norte has blown in, it is uncharacteristically cool, mid 60s and breezy. Mary makes us breakfast and then I log into work. Bill looks over my shoulder, curious about our online moderation jobs. I am happy to show off a little as I go through a number of my duties. Despite the fact that they don’t own a computer, (although Mary J did just recently install one at her chiropractic practice) or even a cell phone (they do have a microwave) Bill picks up the nuances of my job very quickly.

Mary wants to show them a little of our neighborhood so they take a walk up Paseo, the Champs de Élysées of México (I know, I say this every time) and stop in at La Sorbeteria for some fancy flavored sorbets. On their stroll, B&M change some money and on the way back Mary takes them to Issteys, the gov’t grocery store to restock supplies, mostly beer. Back home I am logging off. It’s still cool but the sun is out so we go up to the sun deck and catch some rays and watch the workers next door lay block on a project that looks as if it may rival our small palace. Bill a renowned wood carver who teaches his craft at the American Swedish Institute in Minneapolis, tells some great stories about his trip to Sweden and about other crazy artist associates of his.

Time for some grub so we take B&M to El Lucero our “nice” local watering hole (as opposed to our local cantinas) and we sit out in the palapa addition where there is a trova band playing. Mary buys a tune and Mary J is so entranced with everything about this place from the second level jungle gym for patrons’ kids, to the music, and especially to the free botanas of tacos, chorizo, ceviche, etc. Mary J just can’t get over the fact that for buying a couple of beers they keep this food coming until you say, “No mas.”

Back at the house the Marys hit the sack. Both Mary and I work tomorrow, but that doesn’t keep me and Bill from doing “one more”s until the wee hours once again.

Thursday dawns bright for a change, I am getting tired of all these nortes, it’s unnatural. Mary is already logged in when I head to the kitchen to make breakfast for everyone (second breakfast for Mary) which consists of fruits and fancy breads that Mary had picked up. I go on the roof for my karate as Bill and Mary J make their way to the kitchen for coffee and grub. While we’re working Bill goes on a walkabout and Mary J suns herself poolside and reads. After Mary logs off at noon, they all head in the car to Walmart for a beer restock and then, when I am off we walk up to La Plaza Grande. On the way I buy some Cohibas from a street vendor. I get him down to 180P for a box of 5 Esplendidos and when I give him a 200P note, he drops a couple of centavos in my hand and practically sprints out of there. After living here for two years I know my Mx coins better than I remember nickels and dimes and I holler after him but he is gone. I’m considering taking off after him for the 13P he shortchanged me until Mary grabs me and reminds me that I still got them cheaper than my usual store. Right.

I walk another block up and go to the second level of La Plaza Seranata (Kevin and Rosie’s favorite Mérida

restaurant) and grab a balcony table overlooking La Plaza Grande and it is a stunning view. Bill and Mary J treat us to a meal of tacos al pastor, crema de elotes, and Burritos al pastor for Bill and Mary J and many cervezas. I light up my Cohiba to share with  the Marys and it doesn’t get any better.

Back at the house we have just enough time for one beer before Bill and I head to the airport to pick up Kevin and Shelly. I ride shotgun in the rental and guide Bill on a short cut, sort of, we overshoot Calle 59A and have to backtrack a few blocks but we do get to the airport in about 15 minutes. Bill is whiteknuckling, it’s pretty obvious he is not enjoying driving, at night, in this Mexican city full of one-ways. Bill drops me off at the main entrance of this very small International Airport and right inside of the entrance I spot Kevin and Shelly. We all embrace and head out the door with their luggage and I lead us to the left to save a little time on Bill’s next loop and there he is, all 6’6” of him, hunched over the steering wheel of his compact rental, staring straight ahead and driving right on by but taking a quick peek when he is opposite the main doors. Kevin and I  had been jumping up and down and hollering trying to get his attention but having failed we bust our butts laughing. A few minutes later on the next loop Bill does espy us and we give him crap about his tunnel vision all the way back to the house.

Mary is prepared for us and after a quick tour and a how-to for their bedroom, the master, we all sit down on the promenade to eat, drink, and get caught up.

Holy Mackerel, it’s Friday morning and I have slept in until 11! I haven’t slept that late in years. Everyone else is up and Mary has a scrambled eggs breakfast ready to go. Then we’re all out to the patio. Kevin and Shelly grab beers out of the cooler and Kevin offer me one. “Sorry,” I say, “I have a rule that I don’t start drinking until I am out of my jammies.”

Eventually I am street worthy and I volunteer to be the Marys mule as they go to restock along with a few other things, beer. We seem to be going through it at an impressive rate.

On the way to Issteys we stop in at Mary’s coffee bean place, Cafico, and Mary J has the treat of seeing the Cuban beans dumped directly out of a gunny sack into a giant stainless steel grinder which takes about 5 minutes to grind up her ½ kilo (85P, Mary J’s treat). At Issteys I load up my beer bag and it’s a long 3 ½ blocks back to the house.

To be frank the weekend is somewhat of a blur but it went something like this: Friday evening we all went to El Luceros for their free mariscos, seafood buffet and they had a fun two piece band that we danced to. Bill and Mary J can cut a rug pretty well.

Saturday was beach day and Kevin and Bill are moving a little slowly having reminisced a little later than anyone else the previous night. We bused to the beach and it was a sunny day, warm but not hot. We situated ourselves on the beach on our big beach towel and portable chairs. I grabbed a couple of Superior megas (1200mg litros) and lit my Cohiba and my, what a lovely day it was. Kevin is still moving a little slowly but a

couple beers brought back the Kevin  we all know and love. We had intended to catch a bite at one of the seaside restaurants but the day slipped away from us and Kevin and I wanted to go to the ballgame.

We hopped a bus and quickly cleaned up and the four of us, (minus Bill and Mary J who hung back) and grabbed a $4 taxi ride to Kulculcan Estadio with just enough time for a sandwich and a beer before opening pitch. It was a battle of crafty lefties with our Leones finally breaking out in the 5^th with a 3 run shot. Delivered, I think by one of the many MLB has-beens that Kevin recognized. The Leones added single runs in the 6^th and 7^th and that was good enough for us as the hard plastic seats had taken their toll. We taxied back home.

Sunday was the mandatory Mérida in Domingo and we took the gang on the walk downtown stopping at La Trapiche, our favorite breakfast place. All 6 of us get stuffed and have drinks and coffee and Bill is amazed that the ticket was only a little over 300P about $25. That’s one of the many reasons we love México! Then with stops for shopping in tiendas along Calle 62, we made our way to La Plaza Grande which was filled with vendors of all kinds, as it always is for Merida en Domingo. Then I led our troupe to Lucas de Galvez one of the largest mercados in the world and I am pretty proud of myself that I could lead them into and out of this maze without getting lost. I made sure the tour included a march through the fish market prep area just to gross everyone out.

Back home Bill did a helluva job BBQing the Arrachera steak/roast that Mary had picked up at Pacsadeli. It was excellent but Mary beat herself up for not having procured enough. Although lean, this rather impressive chunk of meat cooked down a lot. But there were plenty of sides. Then we retired to the promenade and started telling stories from the HFA (Hearts Federation of America) days, our old softball days as “The Pinebrook Inn Unkies” (we had more covert ways of drinking in the dugout than gloves) and I made the mistake of remembering what a great combination the Mayan liqueur Xtabentun and 100 Años Tequila make and Kevin remembered his love of Don Julio and the night did stretch out.

And that is the weekend to the best of my recollection, I swear!

Monday is visa renewal day for us so we’re up before anyone and we head up to IMS to do that routine. Back home we find everyone, everyone except Kevin of course who’s reading in the front room, cleaning and sweeping. Then they all head up to the museum while Mary and I mop the promenade. At one point Mary shakes her fist at the construction workers next door and says, “No mas polvo!” They just grin at her. Just as we’re done the gang is back to report that the museum doesn’t open on Monday, so…let’s have a beer! Mary gets some botanitas out and that is exactly what we do. The girls sun themselves while Kevin shows me his 2010 Baseball Prospects book which is pretty cool. Bill heads up to collect his Dia de las Muertos stamped tin door topper that he spotted the other day at a cool shop on calle 54 while Kevin and I talk BB. Around 4 or so we hit the street to make our way to the combi stop at calles 56 and 59. With our group the 12 passenger van is filled and we head out directly.

We’re greeted at the door of the Xcanatun dining room by the ever gracious staff and we lead our party past the baby grand piano in the lounge to the patio. We love showing this place off to guests. This converted hennequen hacienda is one of the top boutique hotels in Mexico and its restaurant, IMHO, is the finest in Mérida and yes we have been to Nectar. The view of the grounds and gardens dominated by the ancient Royal Palms brings the desired effect upon our friends. We start off with beers for Bill and Mary, a Piña Colada for Mary J and wine for Kevin, Shelly, and me. They have the white house wine which they find to be a good, decent house wine. When they order their steaks they sample my red and they find it, being amateur wine connoisseurs, quite up to the task and they order a carafe. I find it quite fascinating, their wine critiques, being a guy who only knows that he likes it red and not too dry. Kevin has been referring to my box wine, our house wine, as “Ripple” all week.  Our food comes, Kevin and Shelly have the medallion wrapped in bacon, Mary has the Tamarind Chicken, Bill has the Yucatecan Shrimp, Mary J has the Tuna steak, and I have Loin of fish. Our meals are great as usual although Shelly and Kevin’s steak was a little rarer than they prefer although they take the hit on that as the menu, as in most fine dining establishments, I understand,  has a key of about 6 levels of “doneness” and they should have specified one level higher.

We should have left room for desserts but none of us did so we ask for la cuenta. With tip the check comes to 2100P about $168, for drinks, wine, and 6 gourmet meals. Bill successfully fights Shelly for half of it. Did I already say that these guys are wonderful guests?

We combi back home and as tomorrow is getaway day, Bill and Mary pack. Another norte has blown in and it is cool, we’re in sweaters and light jackets as we sit around the patio table. Kevin’s low level chest croup is acting up again which slows him down and we’re all pretty tired. It is an early night for all.

Tuesday is a work day for us so Mary is logged in at 6 and I rouse up about 6:40 to make breakfast. It’s a chilly morning, about 55F, Mary is bundled up in long pants and a jacket at our workstation, poolside. Bill and Mary J are up and quietly eat the fruit and bread breakfast, always a bummer when vacation getaway day is here. Shelly is up as well and reports that Kevin’s croup is better but he is sleeping in, which is rare for him.

At 8:30 we see Bill and Mary J off with hugs and we tell them again what great guests they have been. It was a lot of fun getting caught up with them and reliving our crazy Princeton past. We learn later that their rental’s check engine light came on, on the way to Cancun airport but they did manage to limp it in. I think Bill and Mary will be busing to Mérida in the future.

Kevin and Shelly relax poolside, reading as the day does warm up, while Mary and I toil away. Mary logs off at noon and after her daily nap she gives Kevin and Shelly the Cocina Economica experience at Luis’ Loncheria just a couple blocks away. Mary brings me back spaghetti con albondigas, meatballs which is very tasty. After I log off Mary has a Bloody Mary and cigar, sweet thing that she is, waiting for me. None of us has much energy so we are quite content to sit around the patio table and nibble on cheese and crackers and tell stories. As the sun sets it gets so cool that we take the show on the road to the kitchen. Then Kevin and I get into the tequila (mine mixed with Xtabentun which tastes way too good) Shelly and Mary are content with beer, and we hear some pretty amazing stories about their Berthoud, CO gang, which I cannot retell for reasons of libel. The girls are sensible with Mary retiring first (workday tomorrow) and Shelly shortly after. I have no idea when Kevin and I hung it up but we sure had fun.

I awake Wednesday morning, feeling exactly the way I deserve to, and I get about my routine, preparing fruit and bread breakfast for everyone. I labor through the day and when I log off I join the others poolside. The weather has warmed up, the norte finally leaving, and the girls are dangling their feet in the pool. I join Kevin at the patio table, fire up a Cohiba and take a chug of my Superior cerveza. Kevin says, “If someone would have told me that, here, on our last day of Mexican vacation that I had not had a single cigar or marg, I would have told him he was crazy!” I tell him that there is nothing I can do about his chest croup but I can mix up  margaritas, pronto. In my defense I had had margs waiting for Bill and Mary, but they are not into those I found, so I guess I just forgot about them. Yea, that’s the story. So we sip those and we decide that we’re too lazy to go out so Mary orders some Pepperoni Pizzas.

We eat our pizzas and drink our drinks. Kevin and I discover that we’re select members of the “don’t eat the crusts club”, as we characterize them as needlessly filling bread sticks, which is fine by Mary because she dips mine in sauce and treats them exactly that way. We do a good job of stuffing ourselves and then Kevin and Shelly have to get about packing. It’s a short night as it will be an early rise tomorrow.

We roust up Kevin and Shelly at 3:45AM sipping coffee and ironically Kevin’s chest feels the best it has the whole visit. Roberto, the one-armed taxi driver is 5 minutes early, as usual, at 4:10. We see Kevin and Shelly off in the dark, telling them that they too have been wonderful guests and we have to do this every year. I instruct Roberto to croon them Beatles tunes on the way to the airport and he is happy to comply. And they’re off. We wave until they are around the corner.

Now it’s back to work for Mary and time to get about my morning routine for me. We know that it will take a few days to recover but, that was a helluva lot of fun! We hope it will be an annual event.

Thanks for visiting gentle reader. An interesting footnote: Just blocks away from our house Roberto was pulled over by a local policia and they tried to shake him down. But our intrepid Roberto stood his ground and a few minutes later they were back on their way to the airport. As always Bruce appreciates any and all feedback. Hasta pronto!