Return to Ajijic: San Antonio Tlayacapan

So, I see I have a bit of catching up to do with my first trip blog (still some photos to upload, and the tale of my $10 massage), but this is now trip number two: David did indeed move into the big house, though I believe he has decided it is too big for the long run. In the meantime, though, I am sleeping like a princess in the lovely front bedroom and queening it over the kitchen, such as it is. More on that later.

San Antonio

Day 1: Yes, again I was lucky enough to have a seat on the Flight of the Living Dead, departing Oakland International at around 1:10 a.m. Friday. It didn't really seem too bad this time, in spite of the fact that I needed to be at the airport 3 hours early. I attribute this in part to judicious application of liquor (after all, I didn't need to drive; did I?). A friend phoned from England, and we spoke for about an hour, so that made the time seem shorter, as well.

When we arrived in Guadalajara, everything went a lot faster than last time, and all the fretting I'd done about change seemed just silly: there was a fully staffed (3 people) change office ready and waiting for me. I went to the cab kiosk and engaged a taxi, and we were off.

Though it was 7 a.m., it was not quite daylight, and the overhanging clouds gave the place an almost smoky feel. The road from the airport to the lake starts out very ramshackle, with a lot of roadside foodstands (empty at this hour), construction sites, gas stations, and 24-hour-diners of the modern, plastic variety. There is also what looks to be the ruins of a church on the right side of the highway, but I've yet to get the story on that.

When we arrived in San Antonio, I used the map David had provided me with to guide the cab-driver. I knew there had been something about flooding, streets being torn up, sandbags, etc., but was treated to a graphic display of same when we turned into the street I thought we were supposed to be taking: on the right was a muddy track, and on the left cobblestones were piled two feet high. The driver made a valiant attempt, but eventually we had to turn back and took the main street, via the central Plaza, to David's street: Ramon Corona.

Not noticing the doorbell located 6+ feet above the sidewalk and a good 3 feet to the left of the gate, I hammered with the big knocker, and David eventually appeared. I'm a bit vague about what happened after that--I'm sure he gave me coffee. And eventually, when I was up to it, he made me breakfast of waffles, egg, and apple and cheese slices.

I'm sure there was a siesta in there.

In the evening we walked up to what David insists on calling the carotid artery, the main drag leading through all the north shore towns. We ate at a restaurant called Tily, where David had some excellent sea bass and I had a poor excuse for tempura coconut shrimp. It didn't matter, it was a nice evening, and it was fun to talk. Arriving back home, we settled in to our usual evening routine, each ensconsed at the computer, reading newsgroups and other tidbits, occasionally discouraging David's cat, Jean-Claude, from scratching the (rented) furniture.

When I had gone to bed, falling into a deep sleep after reading for awhile, I woke to what sounded like someone throwing gravel against my wall. It took me awhile to realize that it was rain, hard rain. I lay back and enjoyed the smell, and later the lightning and thunder that accompanied it.

So ended the first day of my San Antonio vacation.

P.S. I am writing this on Thursday, day 7, so am catching up with posts as best I can in chronological order. In the meantime, pictures through Tuesday can be found here.