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Bucerias, Part II
Today we take
the bus to Sayulita, which is on the Pacific Coast of Nayarit . Supposedly the
bus takes thirty minutes. Ethel says the bus route seems to be rather haphazard
today, but self only concerned with cars careening toward us at a very rapid
rate. Sayulita is a very cute fishing village with cobblestone streets and a
fairly nice beach. We sit on the beach for a while and then wander around town
looking for interesting presents. We find none. Take bus home.
Lee has offered us a ride to Destiladaro beach. He is the only person I know who
has a car here. This turns out to be a van with no seats in the back. Pee, the
dog, sits in his customary seat in front. We emerge from the back of the van
with waffle imprints on our butts. Not a fetching look for beach attire. The
storage crates we precariously perched on doubled as back seats. Destiladaro has
an awesome beach. Sand feels like silt, and there are nice waves for bogey
boarding. Michelle and Vana try their hand at boogey boarding until Vana lands
on her head and gets water up her nose. I decline boarding, and instead take
pictures of my frolicking friends. Girls lament that their pants are full of
sand. Later that night at dinner, they find sand in their ears.
Dinner conversation revolves around the various goings on in town. Lee says his
deceased wife's ashes are buried underneath the bricks on the oceanfront side of
the condo. Feel rather dismayed at this and fervently hope that I have not been
walking on her. Leigh enlightens us as to the whereabouts of his various
deceased friends. The ashes of his friend, Gertrude were buried in the roadside
planter; unfortunately the road workers dug her up. Make sympathetic noises -
what is one to say in this sort of conversation? Despite what may seem to be a
doomsday talk of death and dying at dinner....we have an excellent meal in the
new Italian restaurant in Bucerias.
The next day Michelle and I are advised to take the bus to the airport. Because
of our previous bus experiences, feel that this may not be the wisest choice;
however, I hold my tongue. We take the bus, which is also the milk run. We stop
every three minutes. My bus partner attempts to speak broken English to me. Have
no idea what he says other than, Where are you going? or, Where are you from?
Smile and hope we do not miss our stop. The bus is so crowded that we cannot see
the stops. .......Disappointed that yet again there are no chickens.
Despite the strange way of keeping time in Bucerias, we are able to arrive on
time to the airport. For those of you not in the know: there are 2 time zones to
keep track of in this particular area of Mexico. There is Jalisco time and
Nayarit time. Jalisco and Nayarit are States within Mexico. Bucerias, Nayarit
time is one hour earlier than Puerta Vallarta, Jalisco time. The bus runs on
Nayarit time; however the airport runs on Jalisco time. It is all so confusing
that I just keep my watch on Seattle time. Whenever anyone asks me the time, I
give them the Seattle time! It seems any time goes here, especially mañana time.
The airport is a freaking disaster that makes me feel stressed just thinking
about it. There are three security checkpoints; one is for the removal of
jewelry which is then placed in a plastic bag provided by the security.
Passports and airline tickets are checked. Another checkpoint is the usual
cavity search and screening, passports and tickets are checked again. The final
checkpoint is tickets only. Once you arrive at the earlier determined gate, the
sign board clicks to a different gate for your destination. The sign board
changes gates three times. We wait in a long line in order to get on a bus to go
to the airplane. The first class people are really gypped. They do not receive
the first class privileges of going to the front of the line, etc. When the
airline attendant calls for the first class passengers, there is a near riot as
they try to get to the front of the line. It is not good. We board the plane and
sit in the last row. The airline runs out of food, also not good. The ride home
is bumpy. We take it in our stride (sort of) and begin to plan our next girls'
getaway. The hassles of the bus and the airport are worth it for five blissful,
child-free days.
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