Puerto Vallarta Day One: Evil Alarms and Fresh Margritas


Something about being on a beach makes me want to write. It probably started on Topsail Island, where I was in my phase of compulsive journaling and continued on Tybee Island where keeping a journal was an assignment. I equate beaches with writing and so that’s what I’m in the mood to do tonight. Since I have not kept a regular personal journal since I started keeping a blog, you’ll have to forgive me if I start waxing dangerously poetic. (Also, I’m on my second margarita of the evening.)

I am on vacation! I started the day thinking that nothing – not even vacation – could be worth the pain of waking up at 4:00am after going to bed sometime after midnight. Of course, now that the ordeal of traveling is concluded, I feel much better about my sacrifice.

We are currently visiting Dustin’s grandmother, Bonnie, in Puerto Vallarta. She had rented a condo here for the three most dreadful months of South Dakota winter, and as she is a very social creature, it would be unkind to leave her alone for all three of those months. She has carefully scheduled many visitors who will fill up nearly her entire stay down here. We are round three.

We arrived in Puerto Vallarta at about 2:00 today and were driven to Punta Negra by a maniac cab driver who was pretty sure we had underpaid for our ride (apparently, from the airport, you pay in advance). I have come to terms with the fact that cab drivers are, as a rule, maniacs. I’ve had a few very harrowing rides where I spent the entire time digging my nails into my companion’s arm and fearing for my life, but since then I’ve learned to relax. You really never hear news stories about horrible taxicab diasters, so I guess the maniacs must be very good at what they do.

Bonnie’s place is exactly what I expected: a pre-furnished vacation unit decorated very traditionally. It has wonderful huge windows and sliding doors and little balconies all over the place. Everything is tiled – floors, walls, counters – to keep the water and sand as manageable as possible. It is on the 8th floor, which provides a wonderful view of the ocean (which is close enough that I could probably dive from the back balcony at high tide at make it with no problem). Pelicans frequent the area, as do crabs, I understand, though I’ve yet to see any of those for myself.

I started my afternoon by hanging out by the pool with Bonnie while poor Dustin tried to finish the project that he wanted to have done before we ever left. The pool is probalby 85 degrees, and I splashed around, happy as the proverbial clam, until I got shrivelly and hungry and decided to get out.

My goal for the week is to do as much of nothing as I can get away with. In fact, updating my blog is hopefully the most ambitious thing I will accomplish. Maybe I’ll try to learn a little more about the area – the geography looks absolutely fascinating – and I will read books. I brought five. I would love to finish them all. They are all easy paperbacks and I feel like doing nothing so much as laying around in the sun (copiously slathered in 30spf sunblock) and devouring my books.

Tomorrow I think we’ll go over to the market, which is also a lovely thing. We’ll need to do some cooking for Bonnie while we’re here. Eating and vacation simply go together. I’m already in love with the fresh made tortilla chips and salsa (I even discovered the guacamole isn’t so bad) and I squeezed limes for fresh margaritas tonight too. Whew, speaking of which, dinner isn’t on yet, and I feel like another nap. I blame the 4am thing.

So off I go. Hopefully there will be a few more updates while I’m here. Don’t be too jealous – when I’m done, I have to go back to work to confront the Wrath of the Tax Lady.


2 thoughts on “Puerto Vallarta Day One: Evil Alarms and Fresh Margritas

  1. You need to tell me how and where to get your car dear! Or it will still be there waiting for you…. thats all, drink me some margaritas πŸ™‚

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