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Sunday, February 23, 2014

Greetings from Yelapa Mexico

I’m sitting on the patio of our Casa in Yelapa, Mexico with wife Michele.   It’s sunny, the temperature is in the low eighties, the palm trees are swaying and the ocean is calm and inviting – just another shitty day in paradise.

The fact that Michele is here at all is considered by many a miracle in the same category as making  the lame walk and the blind see.  In fact, before we came there was active betting to see how many days she would last.  The smart money was on two days - no it’s only two days until we return home – and she’s talking about wanting to come back – for an extended time.

It’s not that Michele doesn’t like to travel: she just doesn’t like to travel with ME!  Forty years ago our marriage nearly ended on our honeymoon when she swore she’d never travel with me again.  Evidently forever is 40 years – the same amount of time the Israelites wandered around in the desert.  She claims I’m high maintenance – I don’t think it’s that I’m high maintenance – it’s just I tend to panic a lot.  My friends are constantly amazed that I find my way home after an adventure, when I get lost going to the corner
The Yelapa Water Taxi
store.

This is my sixth trip to Yelapa.  I first came to study Spanish.  I didn’t want to be in a big city, so when I found a Spanish school on line in a quaint little village accessible only by water taxi I signed up. 

As soon as I arrived I thought I had made a terrible mistake - it was so small.  There are no cars; only burros and the odd ATV – and of course lots of burro droppings on the road.   My Spanish teacher had billeted me with Irma and Angel, who have several casas that they rent out.  Irma and her husband don’t speak a word of Spanish.  I only spoke a few, and those nobody understood.  My Spanish teacher was nowhere to be found: she’d stayed back home to search for a missing cat.

My room was small, but clean and bright with a huge tiled bathroom and shower, and Irma’s cooking was to die for. It took a day to quickly realize that I’d arrived in paradise.
Aviva, Cecily and Cassidy
The next year I talked my daughter, Aviva, to come with my two small granddaughters, ages 3 years and 6 months.  That was an adventure – my daughter seemed to have a pathological fear of Geckos and spent her time chasing them around with cans of Raid. Yelapa soon became a Gecko free zone. She’d send the three year old to check the bathroom for bugs first thing in the morning and told her to wake her grandfather if she found one.  But in the end Aviva sort of fell to Yelapa’s charms (in hindsight, she claims).

Senor Curt and his latest flame
CuShe stayed for a week, followed by my friend Curt who came for a week.  Curt fell in love with the place and plans to return with his wife.  When Curt left another friend, David, came and was so enamored with Yelapa  he brought 10 of HIS friends down the following spring, and so it goes.

 Dave Billman and the Giant Alien Egg

The only one who resisted Yelapa’s charms was my wife.  So we were all surprised this spring when she announced she wanted to go with me to try it out for two weeks.

We’ve made an offer to rent a brand new Casa (more like a house than a vacation property) across the street from where we’re planning to staying for three months next winter.   It’s a new home, two bedrooms, living room and dining room and is guaranteed to be mosquito and bat proof.

So, as my friend Dave dryly remarked.  “I guess Michele likes it down there.”
AThe New Casa


NEXT:  Batman & Santa - Vampire bats and aging hippies

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