We've all enjoyed the move to the hillside house, replacing roosters, dogs, and other jungle noises with those sounds associated with waves crashing ashore a few hundred feet below us. However, we were not expecting the sounds of an old school pop corn maker in our new digs. Apparently, the water drips off the roof at a perfect angle to exactly land upon the one inch wide metal rail that surrounds our deck. The rains arrived with darkness, thus all three of us were left to our imaginations as to the source of this mysterious new noise. Morning delivered more rain and enlightenment as to the cause of the new thorn in our side.
After a leisure morning, it ever so slowly dawned on us that the rains weren't going to recede anytime soon, Meanwhile, the locals claimed, "I've been here xx years and I've never seen it rain like this in the winter, blah, blah, blah." Sounds like a well orchestrated plan by the local tourism board. CW and AA eventually tired of Words with Friends and checking the news and scores from back home, and Jared finally had enough of Facebook. We could not longer take the deck, we had to leave. To town we went.
Not all Golf Carts are created equal, some are better prepared than others.
In reality, the only hard part was walking down the super steep road that led to our hillside house. The town itself was well drained and was quite easy to navigate. Wilson headed for the only surf shack that was open while Jared and Amy located ringside seats at Don Pedro's for an excellent view of the Old Man's assault on the waves. He actually looked better, until the exploding waves scared him out of the water. It was comical to watch him contemplate which way to go when a 6 foot wave was heading onshore while a 3 foot wave of undertow was heading off shore with our poor little Laird stuck in the middle. When those waves met, it looked like a violent lava explosion, shooting 20 feet skyward.
We stayed on the beach for sunset, but the real light show was in the eastern sky.
On our final night in Mexico, we all voted the affirmative for a fancy sit down dinner. Jared and CW had a working list and after consulting Amy, the Sayulita Cafe was chosen. The ambiance was perfect, the decor, interesting, and the food, well, it was outstanding. Note the steam rising from Jared's plate.
Amy went with the Chicken Mole on the left, Wilson ventured into Aztec cuisine, while Jared chose the Pineapple stuffed with seafood.
And no night in Sayulita is complete without getting more sage advice from Lalo. Oh wait, apparently Lalo has less time on his hands these days.
In spite of the distraction of our blog, Lalo still had words of wisdom for Jared. We exchanged heartfelt goodbyes, but not before locating each other on Facebook.
With all the rain, we all voted for an early night, so we could hit the beach first thing in the morning. All we had to do was walk back down the main drag, cross the bridge, and go up the hill. What could possible go wrong in such a short stretch of real estate?
Wilson was not driving this cart, and none of us ever touched any of the several empty beer containers inside this golf cart. But it does make for a funny photo. The golf cart magically disappeared a couple of hours later. Now, how would we know it was gone a couple of hours later if we were headed straight home. We ran into Trevor and the "8 Tacos Guy".
That's Trevor in the top photo, and Morgan (the 8 taco guy) in the bottom photo. We ran into Morgan after the Super Bowl when we pulled up to Eduardo's taco stand. We mentioned, "hmmm, these tacos look good", and Morgan quickly responded, "of course they're good, that's why I'm getting 8 of them". There was no sign of a Jack in the Box camera crew in the vicinity.
Note the TV screens in the background, Wilson recalled that this place was the hockey bar in Sayulita and that Vancouver was playing Calgary on this night. Needless to say, we stayed for a while. Trevor and CW discussed the Blue Jays, Mariners, and Canucks while AA got the lowdown on camping on Vancouver Island from Morgan and girl friend. Hey wait, where's the girl friend? She's sequestered Jared and is offering her views on everything.
And she couldn't resist this photo op.
Morgan and Kay were spending the winter in Sayulita and confirmed our suspicions that there's a great similarity between this place and the Canadian adventure towns we've frequented. They've demanded that we pay them a visit on the east coast of Vancouver Island this summer, opening their house to us, taking us river rafting on the Cowichan River, and kayaking on the Strait of Georgia on a moonlit night.
We all like the idea of " the journey is the destination", but that concept is so tough to wrap your head around. . . I flew 3000 miles dammit, where's the sun, I have to leave tomorrow, make the rain stop, I'm bored, blah, blah, blah.
In this world of instant gratification, those thoughts came easily to all three of us. We're very fortunate to have nights like this . . . saying goodbye to Lalo, knowing we would see him again, having a wonderful dinner with family, getting a good laugh from a random street scene, and meeting complete strangers that welcomed us into their lives.
The Big Dipper may have dropped the rain, but Sayulita lifted our spirits.
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