Well. Chantal and I went to the mercado yesterday. We headed straight for the metate stall. There were no metates. There were molcajetes galore, including some that looked like stone turtles. No metates. Back to square one. Or not quite. When the man I've usually dealt with comes back, presuming he ever does, I'll see if he can find one for me. The woman who took his place said no, but you never know. I'll start checking all the shops in San Carlos in the meantime.

Roger and Chantal came over last night and we made our communal meal - apparently it's called Mexican lasagna. It was very good.

Today I have a code in by doze. I've spent most of the day reading Jonathan Kellerman, drinking chamomile tea, and dozing. It's very warm, both indoors and out. I want a hammock.