Feliz Navidad

Christmas day in Barre de Navidad, a town with a little history. 10 years ago an earthquake destroyed this place, tidal waves and everything. At the center was a church that completely crumbled to the ground, except for the Jesus statue whose arms fell from the cross and hung straight down beside his body. A little eerie when you actually see it. I guess National Geographic did a show on it a while back. Anyway, ya gotta love JC and the little games he plays.

So the last few days have been spent hopping from beach to beach down the coast, some deserted and others that I wish were deserted. Was going to take a dip in a lagoon one night close to the beach but decided against it. Good thing for me, cause the next morning a lady told me there were crocidilles in that lagoon. (This lady had been attacked by a couple kids with a machete a few weeks earlier, but that's another story) So after that, I've had my eye out for crocs. And they're not hard to miss...especially the 30-foot ones. No joke. Really been getting my share of wildlife in the further south I go. Bats and armadillos and dolphins jumping right off the coast. Will the beach ever get boring? I don't know. The hardest part of this trip will be staying off the beach and continuing biking. The Mexican "manana, manana" attitude is an easy philosophy to adhere to. Whatever can be done today can always be done tomorrow. So I think I will leave this town tomorrow. And so it goes...manana, manana....

Parting Ways

Jeremy woke up one blurry-eyed morning and gazed at the bicycle he once knew. It stood there motionless...still motionless after 3 weeks of collecting dust and rust. He didn`t even know who the Rooster was anymore. It had become just a bike once again. And then there was Trudy (Chad´s bike). She laid there, a yellow heap of metal, that was once the pride and joy of Chad`s bicycling life. And speaking of Chad. The three of them had not seen Chad for 3 days. The last they heard, he was off at a drag show with some transvestite named Darla while smoking camel lights and making an attempt to buy a plane ticket back home. Who knows what happened to Chad. Now I don`t believe in too much of what Christianity is all about, but I do believe in Satan. And he`s a pudgy, tequila-slammin´, coke addict who lives in Puerto Vallarta and sells timeshares to the elderly, while staying out till 6am every morning shooting pool. Not a bad guy. But I´d had enough of him and decided to take a water taxi to Yelapa and enjoy the tranquil waters over there. Yelapa was a town without electricity until 2 years ago and there are no roads to get there. Everybody arrives by boat. It still has maintained its charm, even with electricity, but get there soon cause the 10-star hotels are coming. So after a couple days of lying on a beach (without my tent cause I forgot the tent poles), it was back to PV to see if Chad was still alive and to try and make our escape. Luckily I found him, and today he is on a flight home while I will be heading out tomorrow morning. So after 3 weeks in PV, Jeremy and Chad have somehow managed to disentangle themselves and move on with their lives. Chad is on his way back to the States due to something called responsibilities while Jeremy is continuing solo down to Panama. It`s a sad day but the trip must continue. Stay tuned and Happy Holidays!

Puerto Vallarta and the Vampire Nights

After a couple days ride, Jeremy and Chad came into Puerto Vallarta expecting much of the same they experienced in Mazatlan. But they couldn't have been more wrong. They rode into the cobbled streets of PV and immediately noticed a strange vibe in the air. They planned on being here for only a night...but they're still here after 2 weeks. As all the fruitloops say- "Get out while you can. This place will suck you in like a vortex." And they're absolutely right. While frequenting the various watering holes; they somehow managed to meet the local characters in town and realized there was more here than the plastic, touristy surface most people only see when they visit PV. Somehow they managed to get work as bartenders at the prestigous La Barriga, and ended up in the middle of the PV underground lifestyle. They have become vampires, not having seen the sun or beach for days and living each night in a liquid black blur. Describing this city is impossible. It's San Francisco on cocaine, mixed with a few ultra-rich tourists and package tours; followed by a shot of gay pride and a glass of red wine to take the edge off. There is a small town atmosphere here where everybody knows who you are and what you did last night, but nobody asks any questions. You can get what you want, do what you want and be whatever you want. Personal freedom is available in every form. But trying to stay here till New Years is proving to be a challenge. As with everything, there is a dark side about PV that neither one of these fellas wants to get sucked into. Jeremy is missing the long, quiet and innocent moments on the bicycle and Chad is missing his dog Maddie. It looks like this is where Chad and Jeremy may part ways; with Chad returning back to his normal life in the States and Jeremy continuing to Panama on his own. But only if they can escape this PV vortex.

San Blas Social Club

The city of San Blas. What more can you say about this place? It took us five days to leave. Unbelievable beaches, laid-back surfer paradise, outstanding taco stands; and the kind of characters you only read about in travel books. I don´t know who or where to start when trying grasp the personality of this town. Is it Don, the 60-yr old surfer dude from San Francisco who doesn´t lead such a bad life.

"Hey Don! How are the waves today?"
Don: "Hahahahah!! And I like it! It´s not a bad life!¨"

Or is it Uncle Lee, the retired lawyer bumping down the coast looking for a place to retire. His stories about Burning Man have assured me and Chad that we must be there next year.

Uncle Lee: "They call me Uncle Lee."
Us: "Who calls you Uncle Lee?"
Uncle Lee: "I don´t know. They do."

Or maybe it´s Augistine, the Mexican Humphrey Bogart from New York who opened up the San Blas Social Club and made the prices too high for any local to enjoy it. Smooth, cool and sophisticated. Sipping martinis and listening to Frank Sinatra on the Mexican coast, with the occasional tequila shot thrown in. The San Blas Social Club was home to even more crazy creatures. There was old man Screech, who felt a need to tell us the history and proper procedure of code for wiring systems. And how having a color blind guy cutting wires isn´t such a good idea. And there was Spike. A normal guy with a huge grin and spiked hair. A HUGE grin. I don´t think he could actually frown.

And let´s not forget Charlie.

Charlie: " Hi my name´s Charlie. I've quit drinking cause of this Mexican girl that I want to marry. Her parent´s said I have to quit if I´m to marry her."

Us: " We just saw you with a beer over there at the bar."

Charlie:" Oh...yeah....ummm, well...ya know... I´m also quitting smoking. "

A few minutes later he was out back with a cigarette. Anyway, Charlie was a character that words cannot justify. You cannot read or write about Charlie. You can only experience Charlie.

So we did. We experienced San Blas and felt like locals.

Morning sunrise swim followed by a walk down the beach with a coffee in hand. The bike ride into town to the SuperMercado to buy eggs, tortillas, onions, mushrooms, cheese and salsa. A gaint portion of huevos rancheros and another swim. A trip back into town for beers at the Social Club. Then back to the beach for a mid-day nap on the hammocks under the palapa. Watch the sun go down with the Aussies and Canucks traveling through and listening to their stories. Then into town again for some tacos and socializing at the Social Club. And seeing all these random characters doing the exact same thing as us- Absolutely nothing!

It´s not such a bad life.