San Juan de Alima

Croatia was Olivia’s first proposed destination for her 30th birthday. However, as the economy turned and we saw our travel budgets evaporate, another opportunity presented itself.

Mariana’s family has a beach house in San Juan de Alima, in Michoacán near the border with Colima. Mariana offered the house and all we had to pay for was our food, drink and tips for the staff; $300 USD per person for 10 days. (At $30 per day, I figured that it was cheaper than staying at home.)

Alex, Olivia, Rodrigo and I loaded up our cars with meat and liquor and the likes of things that we felt we wouldn’t be able to find at the beach. We drove the four hours to Guadalajara where we met up with Karl and Mariana and continued on to San Juan de Alima. Our total travel time, including a stop for lunch, was 10 hours.

The house is in a gated community, smack dab on a private beach. Three floors of beautifully designed family living (the house sleeps 20 and we were only 10). But there is no town to speak of; no restaurants, no tourist shopping, nothing. The house is it. (Although there is a “Tiendita” or small store that services the private community with the basics – i.e., beer, sea food, rice, beans, etc.)

The next day two of the vehicles headed off to the airport in Manzanillo to collect the additional guests arriving from New York, London and Toronto.

To say the least, we were an eclectic group. (I of course, was the oldest.)

Breakfast was waiting for us every morning and a sumptuous fresh seafood lunch served promptly at 3:00 PM.

We spent the week swimming, taking walks on the beach, playing games, reading, boogie boarding, doing puzzles, kayaking, and when it rained, we watched movies from a collection that I brought from home. Rodrigo and Alexis attempted tennis but the oppressive heat and swarms of insects quickly drove them off the court. And we drank a little too.

And of course, there was the birthday party.

Mariana arranged for a massage therapist to come nearly every day. A middle-aged single mother who attended massage school in order to support her family, the small traditional community refers to her as the “whore of San Juan de Alima”. While they clearly don’t understand her profession, a wealthy member of the private beach community told her that she has a gift and bought her a professional massage table so that she could further her career. She and her children now have a better quality of life than most of the residents of the village.

One of the highlights of the trip was when I was walking on the beach with Ali and Alexis. We were watching sand crabs dart in and out of their holes when we saw movement of a different color. It was a freshly hatched baby sea turtle making his maiden voyage to the ocean. Careful not to touch him, we watched him scoot across the sand and enter the surf, his little black head surfacing from time to time, until he cleared the breakers and began his underwater life. People pay thousands of dollars and camp out at night just to witness something like this. And there the little fellow was, heading out at around noon. I guess he was either the first of his nest, or the last, to be making this journey in broad daylight. (We never saw another even when we headed down the beach at night with flashlights.)

One afternoon after my siesta, I walked out to the pool deck. Mariana was in the pool talking with someone who wasn’t from our group. His name was Abraham Levy and he is currently kayaking the entire cost of Mexico (he’d covered 10,000 kilometers by the time we ran into him). He was staying by himself at a neighbor’s house, waiting out a passing storm. He quickly made himself at home, joining us for meals and sharing technology with Alex. (Check out his website at: http://www.abrahamlevy.com/) At 27 years old, once he completes his journey, he will be the first to have done so in a kayak.

A rather handsome young man, one of the women asked him if he had a girlfriend. He pointed to the map that I had spread out on the dinning table and said, “Yes, I have one here, and one here, and one here . . .” I ran into Josh (Olivia’s straight male friend from Canada) in the kitchen. “He is so good looking, “Josh said, “I’d consider switching teams if I could hit that.”

We returned home to find out that it had rained in San Miguel de Allende nearly the entire time we were away. The presa (the lake at the bottom of town) was at 117% capacity. The neighboring town of Atotonilco had to be evacuated due to flooding. The rains have continued since our return although with more breaks in between. The countryside is green and flowering. However, the mosquitoes are also prolific.

(Christine and Mario are to be married at the ranchito on October 11th. It is to be an outdoor wedding and I’m a little concerned about the bride potentially swatting her way down the aisle.)

Last night I stopped at Karl’s studio on my way to bingo. “It must cost so much to keep up that beach house,” I said, “A full-time staff of three, the groundskeepers, the guard at the gate, not to mention the upkeep for a house on the beach.”

“Did you notice a vehicle following you out when you left?” Karl asked, “That was an armed guard. Years back, one of the residents was shot by drug runners. And another time, a resident was driving in with his family, saw a suspicious vehicle and told his family to get down and gunned it. When he got to the community gate there were bullet holes in the side of his car. Also, did you notice that there were guards at each end of the beach day and night?”

I admitted that I had not noticed. “I’m glad you didn’t tell me this before we went, otherwise I might not have gone.”