Zihuatanejo

Robert and Rudy have an 80 year old friend named Edye, who has been vacationing in Zihuatanejo every year for over 17 years. Edye has wanted to share her vacation spot with Robert and Rudy for some time and this year she convinced them, and they convinced us to join them. (Not a very hard sell since San Miguel has been very cold this winter and a beach vacation was just the ticket.)

In addition to being a feisty 80 year old, Edye seems to be missing the “clutch” that most people use between thinking something and subsequently verbalizing. In other words, if she thinks something, she says it. No passing through neutral, figuring out what gear is appropriate, just straight mind to mouth, peppered with Yiddish expressions. I find it charming. People who don’t know her can be a little taken aback.

Edye lives with Jane while she vacations here. Jayne is an elegant widow who has rented the same beach house for 19 years. She met Edye years ago, while Edye was trudging down the beach clutching a bottle of rum, asking anyone in her path if they had an oven so she could bake a rum cake. Jane did and their friendship has endured.

Edye recommended “Hotel Casa Don Francisco” in Playa la Ropa. (The beach is so named because of a Spanish galleon shipwreck off the coast caused its precious Oriental cargo of silks to be washed on shore by the currents.) This bed and breakfast is very upscale with rooms costing approximately $200 USD per night. It has beautiful gardens and rooms with either an ocean view or a private plunge pool. (We got the plunge pool, Robert and Rudy got the view.)

The hotel is only steps from the beach, and while its amenities are quite elegant, there are no televisions in the rooms. Without a television, we are both reading more, which I like. Without television, Rod is a lot more amorous. (I’m thinking of throwing out our television when we get home.)

Rodrigo and I arrived a day earlier than Robert and Rudy. We had barely set our towels down at the beach when I spotted Edye basking in the sun, slowly beginning her own cremation now rather than waiting until passing. I walked up to her and said, “Edye Golden, I’m with the IRS and you’re being audited. I followed you down here. I hope you have your files with you.” But it didn’t work. She recognized me immediately. I introduced her to Rodrigo and we spent the rest of the day explaining why Robert and Rudy were not with us, meeting a variety of her friends on the beach (seniors who make George Hamilton look pale) and lunching at one of her local hangouts. That night, after the boys arrived, she and Jean hosted a delicious Mexican meal at their cottage on the beach. Dessert included both a Key Lime pie and Edye’s famous rum cake.

The next few days we alternated between the beach and town. Rudy arrived with a cold as did Rodrigo, and during the course of our stay I managed to catch Rodrigo’s cold, that I had managed to avoid for 10 days. Therefore, our activities were pretty low key. Edye had made reservations for a place called “Blue Mamu” for dinner and blues music. The music was good but the only choice of food was ribs or steak. (Good thing none of us are vegetarians.) We bid the ladies good night and set out to find a gay bar called “La Musa”. After walking through a rather dicey part of town we found it empty. They informed us that no one really arrives until the drag show at midnight. Given how dismal the place looked, and the lack of air conditioning, we left and never returned.

In general, the dinning and entertainment opportunities in Zihuatanejo seem to be rather limited. The beach is beautiful and offers plenty of activities, but after dark there is not a great deal to see or do. I understand that only four miles away, in Ixtapa, is where one will find all the action. However, we did not check it out.

The trip home was long. Rod and I arrived at the airport to find that our flight to Mexico City had been canceled. We caught another an hour later. I phoned our travel agent to tell them our new flight information. They met us at the airport and put us on the bus to Queretaro where we were met by our shuttle driver. Given the hour from our house to Queretaro, the three hour bus ride to Mexico City and the one hour flight to Zihuatanejo (and the wait time in between each), next time I think we’ll drive. They’ve opened a new super highway and we’ve been told that it takes between six and seven hours by car. But I don’t know which is worse, flying with a cold or driving with a cold.

While on vacation I read a book entitled, “Falling . . . in Love with San Miguel, Retiring to Mexico on Social Security” by Carol Schmidt and Norma Hair. I know it seems like a strange book for me to read given that I already live here. However, the authors are in my Spanish class so I felt somewhat obligated. It was quite a good read and reminded me of many of the reasons why I moved here. The book came out of their letter to friends and relatives back home, as they made the transition. It made me think that I might have been able to pull a book off from everything that I have written. However, they’ve beaten me to the punch. You can check out their website at www.fallinginlovewithsanmiguel.com.