I'm the cat that got the cream. I just had the perfect ending to a day that, while not perfect, was pretty damned good. It started with a good book and a swim, of course.

Actually, no, it started with an earthquake - but I didn't know that until later. I guess that must be what woke me up, but I just thought it was Robin moving around in the RV.

I did notice one unusual thing. Last night, there was a strange sound outside our compound. I remember thinking that it sounded as if somebody kept elephants next door. This morning, the sound resolved itself into the braying of a donkey. It's funny. I've seen lots of donkeys in Mexico, but none right here in the neighbourhood. Maybe somebody keeps one in the house! ;>)

We decided to stay here in Zihuatanejo until Monday because it's so lovely, we don't want to go. Besides, there's a restaurant down the beach that's going to televise the Super Bowl tomorrow, so why do we need to hurry away? That meant no early start, no packing, just a leisurely hour of reading followed by a swim.

After the swim, there was business to be done . Robin went out to buy another couple of tires, because he wants all four rear wheels replaced before we head east. TJ, Kris and I went downtown to drop off all our dirty laundry. Well, we thought we were going to a laundromat, but it turned out that we didn't actually have to stay there and do our own laundry, so we didn't. We left the laundry, went out to lunch, shopped along the many little streets downtown, and checked out the public market for vegetables. I got a couple of t-shirts for the grandbabies and an outfit for myself. When we just couldn't walk any farther, we got a cab home. Then we went swimming.

The laundry was to be finished by 7:00 this evening, so at about 6:30, Kris and I went back downtown, where we found a little shop full of little gifts to take to our families. That was fun. We were wandering around in the dark (or as dark as it gets downtown in the evening), trying to figure out where the laundry was, beginning to get just a little worried as the 8:00 closing time approached. Then we saw him, our knight in shining taxi. We flagged him down, arranged our trip, and got to the laundry with time to spare. We loaded the car with the knight's help, then came home.

Now here we come to the only fly in the ointment. This is a gated community, this little oasis of an RV park, but each couple only gets one key. Robin has ours. TJ has theirs. Kris and I got out of the cab, staggered to the door with our laundry bags, knocked -

and knocked and knocked and rattled the door and made all the dogs bark. And yelled and screamed and rang the doorbell on the main house. And knocked and yelled some more and shook the gate and made the dogs bark some more. And swore. Finally, one of my yells produced a result. Pam, one of the neighbours, came to the door and let us in, apologizing for not responding sooner. She and her husband, Joe, were here at our RV, sitting outside with Robin, watching videos of our English narrowboat trips. They were so engrossed, they didn't hear the knocking or rattling or yelling. They did hear the dogs bark, but nobody thought anything of it. TJ was in his camper. He heard the dogs, too.

Never mind - after that came the good stuff:

I made my bed and put all the laundry away, then put my bathing suit and headed back to the pool. Nobody was at home in the main house, and nobody had turned on the lights by the pool. No problem. I know where there's a light switch - right by the basketball hoop. I got into the pool and turned on the light, shot a few hoops, then happened to look up and see the sky. I went right over and turned the light off, then floated around in the dark water, gazing up at the sky, trying to locate familiar constellations in still-unfamiliar places. My gaze was caught by the basketball, which glows in the dark, so I rolled it around in the water for a few minutes, a little full moon in a dark sky to contrast with the crescent moon in the star-spangled sky above me.

I think this is as good as it gets.

Villas los Arcos http://www.losarcoszihuatanejo.com/
Zihuatanejo, Guerrero

Oh, if you could see me now! We escaped Playa Azul as soon as we could, this morning, and headed into Lazaro Cardenas, which is only a few kilometers away. TJ and Kris needed groceries and propane, and Robin wanted to get a new fan belt, just in case, and some cash. Shortly after we got into town, I saw a sign directing us to Soriana, so that's where we went to do our grocery shopping. The bank machines there were less than helpful, but I did what little shopping I had to do, and so did Kristin. Meanwhile, the men went looking for a propane depot. They flagged a cab driver, told him what they wanted, and gave him some money, and he led them to the depot. They sent him on his way and tried to buy the propane, but it turned out that the depot didn't have a nozzle that they could use to fill TJ's tank. Robin was getting slightly panicky about the money situation, so rather than go any farther, they came back to Soriana. I got out my Canadian cell phone and phoned our bank. They assured us that Robin's account was fine, that there was as much money as he thought. Moral: Pay no attention to what the Mexican bank machines tell you. You are not overdrawn.

Robin's blood pressure came down pretty rapidly after that, and we all got back on the road to come to Zihuatanejo. We were reading the Mexican Camping book as we went along. The instructions for finding the RV parks here were pretty daunting, but somehow, we found them. The one Robin and I had intended to stay in was full, but the one across the street had room - for one vehicle, not two. Meanwhile, TJ and Kris had talked to the people up the street, who turned out to have room for all of us. There's a three-storey house with a ramada on top of that. Adjacent to it is the swimming pool, next to which I'm sitting now. On the other side of the wall is the RV area. I think there are five RVs in right now, which almost fills the place.

When we got here, there was neither power nor water, but it had nothing to do with the park. The whole area was out - so we just parked, donned our swim suits, and headed for the pool, where we stayed until somebody came out and said "Power's on." Then Robin went back to the RV and turned the air conditioning on, so that when I go in to cook supper, I won't faint.

TJ and Kris are planning to go on to Acapulco tomorrow, so that they're situated in time for the Super Bowl on Sunday, but we're hoping they'll decide to stay here, instead. There are restaurants here where we could watch the game, and this little park is gorgeous.

Shortly after I woke up this morning, I went outside to get my first look at Rancho Buganvilias by daylight. It was a beautiful sight. We were, as Cynthia said (Cynthia is the owner of the park, along with her husband, Sandy), in the middle of nowhere. I know the village of La Placita is a few minutes up the road, because we went through it last night, but it's invisible - and inaudible - from the park. The ocean is visible, and audible, but it's way down the hill, on the other side of the coconut grove. All around us, there is countryside.

I know - I'm writing in the present tense,as if I were still at Rancho Buganvilias, but I'm not. I'm sitting in the RV lot behind the Playa Azul Hotel (the one in Playa Azul, not the one that's advertised on the Web). We left Buganvilias at 10:45 this morning and arrived here at about 3:30 this afternoon - after about a 200 kilometer drive. That time included a stop for lunch at a breathtaking spot at the top of a cliff overlooking the ocean. Robin took some film there, and Kristin took photos - which I shall snatch from her blog to put here, just as soon as I can. It also included time for Robin and me to pull over and return the contents of the refrigerator to the refrigerator and mop up the Kool-Aid and papaya hunks and juice and evaporated milk from the floor. Somebody didn't close the fridge properly after lunch. (I'm trying to sound innocent, here, but it isn't working.) The speed limit on most of the winding, twisting, tope-ridden*, mountainous road - with 1,000 foot drops off to the right, a lot of the time - was 60 kilometers an hour. I found that quite a comfortable speed for the road. The men didn't agree, so when Robin was driving, I was white-knuckled.

The view was spectacular, though, and there were highlights - a flock of caciques flying past the car, then a flock of buzzards (I didn't know they flocked) right after that - a huge white butterfly that made me think of a handkerchief fluttering in the breeze - a Marian shrine by the road, with hundreds of brightly coloured plastic doilies hung on lines in front, which gave it a very Tibetan air. There were mango groves and (many) coconut groves, and one large papaya orchard. Herds of goats crossed our path or perched at the side of the road. Three donkeys browsed in a dry creek bed. A black and yellow striped lizard skittered across the road in front of us. There were olive-green mountains and wheat-coloured mountains, and at one point there appeared to be snow at the side of the road, but it was a very white rock that poked out of the ground in that area. At 31C, I don't think there was going to be snow!

Eventually, the beauty around me helped me to come to terms with having left La Placita less than 13 hours after I arrived there.
I wasn't happy about leaving, though I knew it was necessary (TJ and Kris are just about out of food, and we need to find a bank machine). I would like to visit it again. Cynthia and Sandy are a couple of Americans (Cynthia's from Los Angeles. I'm not sure about Sandy - but he's a surfer, so California somewhere would be my guess) who fell in love with La Placita, got a chance to buy the Rancho, and went for it. Originally, they were going to build themselves a little house and snuggle in for a very early retirement, but things got out of hand, I guess, and last year they opened their RV Park on the hill. There's not much to do except lie around when it's hot - or hike down to what is apparently a gorgeous beach (Kristin raved about it) - There are lots of books, and in the evenings there's pizza at Sandy and Cynthia's little restaurant. The water pressure is great, the (metered) electricity works, and there's the only wi-fi for miles around - and it works, too!

Rancho Buganvilias is only in its second year of operation, and so far, not too many people know about it. I think a lot of people end up at the Rancho because there's no other RV park for miles and miles - (They arrive as we did - hot, weary, infinitely grateful, and surprised) - and that's a shame. The rancho is worth visiting for its own sake. Sandy and Cynthia are delightful people, and if what you're looking for is a restful place to spend a day or two - or a month - you won't do better than Rancho Buganvilias.

http://www.ranchoresorts.com

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So now it's Thursday afternoon, and I'm sitting here in my bathing suit. As soon as we sorted out how to park
our RVs in this bizarre lot behind the hotel (TJ and Kris finally settled on a spot that has electricity but no water. They'll rough it for the night), we all got into our bathing suits, showered in the park facility, and headed for the hotel's swimming pool. Standing in the shower, water pouring over my head, I considered just staying there for the evening, but when I got to the pool and considered the fact that I could just dunk my head under the water now and then, float around on my back when I felt like it, and otherwise just sit neck-deep in cool, clear water, I decided that was my new home. Unfortunately, I did have to tear myself away in order to scrub the RV floor (our side-of-the-road job was just a lick and a promise, as it were) - and then it was time to start the chicken curry. Now, the floor is clean and the curry is bubbling away, the rice cooker is plugged into the RV's outside sockets - so that there's one less thing heating up the inside - and I'm looking forward to the moment when dinner is over and I can head back to the pool.

*For those who haven't had the pleasure - a tope (pronounced TOE-pay) is a speed bump. They are ubiquitous in Mexico. Some are small and insignificant; others are like mountains in the middle of the road. Some of them are clearly marked, and others lurk silently, invisibly, awaiting the fool who dares to drive at night, or to look at the scenery instead of keeping his eyes glued to the road. They're very effective.

Photos courtesy of Kristin Ames