So, I get to Puerto Vallarta and after that crazy cab driver drops me at the swanky Playa del Sol, I am in this lovely room with a view of the ocean and it is raining. It has been raining for 5 days straight. Okay, today it didn't rain till 3pm, but I still got stuck in it. I took a picture of the grey area that is called the Pacific, and when I looked at my photos, I thought these ones were in black white. It's enough to make one go to California, to dryer climes.
People say it is not normal. This is actually the very beginning of the rainy season. Guess I was just lucky. But it doesn't usually do this, they say. It rains, but it rains in the late afternoon for a couple of hours, and then it's sunny (and muggy and buggy) again. I have been so depressed, I can't tell you. There's this lovely pool and bar and beach and I just look at it from my balcony, praying for it to stop raining. The maid must think I'm a hermit. She has only come in twice in 5 days because I have my "no moleste" sign up. I've been getting a lot of writing done anyway.
I got inspired by the lovely concierge lady, who was helping me with calling places for rent. I took the bus to a place a ways from downtown and by the time I got there on the bus, and walked the 6 blocks in the rain to find it, the lady (cabrona!) had already rented it. What a cow. So, then I got stuck on the milk run all the way downtown. An hour and 1/2 later, I met another guy to look at a place; it was 4000 pesos for a room with a kitchen sort of, a bathroom and a bedroom and one window in the whole joint. The towel bar was missing in the bathroom. Partly furnished obviously means a bed and a TV. Utilities not included. Way too much I told him.
I was exhausted and came home soaked to the skin.
Another day, another downpour. I finally bought an umbrella at Woolworth's today. 5 bucks. Yes, there still is a Woolworth's in existence. I thought they had gone the way of the do do, but no, there's a big one on Juarez street and it is thriving. The slogan in spanish makes me laugh: "Es que es muy barato." "Well, it's just cheap" Works for me.
I met Susan for a 7 dollar margarita after her work yesterday. I still can't figure out the busses here, and each time I get a great explanation, it is in spanish by a fast talking guy, and my eyes start to glaze over and I just nod because it is just too much trouble to stop him and say slow down etc. I end up doing a LOT of walking. But I need the exercise. I know if someone were to explain it to me in english, I would figure it out. One day maybe.
When I got back to the hotel at about 6:15, I had just missed happy hour, whatever that means. I have a ticket for 2 free drinks, so I though, okay, I should get out of my room and try to be social. I might be missing out on meeting people or mexican bartenders. I brought my book, by bag of sabritas, and sat at a table trying not to get wet, since most of the restaurant and bar are open.
I was greeted by this guy who was busy putting the free popcorn away, and then promptly ignored for the next 15 minutes. I was reading so I was fine. But I thought it would be nice to have a margarita, and I was all primed in spanish with the lingo. Un margarita por favor con Don Julio blanco, en rocas, sin sel. . . . . but . . . . nada. I saw two fat american ladies come to the table aways from me, sat down and got asked what they wanted right away. The were high maintenance and it took 5 minutes for them to tell the guy what and how they wanted whatever it was they wanted. I felt sorry for him. At the bar, all I could hear was american and the drone of stupid unimportant shit going on and on and on. Well, I obviously wasn't missing much by staying in my room. After a good amount of time, I got up and left. I will use my free drink tickets tomorrow after lunch and I will go up to the bar and order them myself. I just didn't care that much tonight.
Tomorrow I'm off to see one more place and then to Isabel's house, who I know from Yelapa. She rents rooms in a house she owns in a very mexican part of town, close to downtown. It's slow season and she's not taking guests. She tells me I can stay there for free if I would just clean up the water a bit, feed the cats and maybe feed the maintenance guy who doesn't have any money. Gee, what is she paying him? Or maybe she's not.
I will check it out tomorrow. It might be worth 300 bucks a month to have my own place that doesn't leak and not have to share it with a maintenance man who obviously doesn't know how to fix leaks. I have a feeling I might become the maintenance lady if I stay there. Apparently the kitchen is leaking as well as a couple of the bedrooms. The bathrooms/shower are outside, so a fan or hair dryer is going to be needed at some point.
The thing that keeps me going is the wonderful adage: "This too shall pass."
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