Logs #51 & #52, February
Winter Changes
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Updated February 27th, 2007
Log #52, Vaya con Gatos
Truckin' up north to move south
SolVan's 550-mile Nogales roundtrip
and 900-mile one-way route, San Carlos-Santiago.
While I moved to the casita in Santiago, Stan covered 1,800 more miles, shuttling back to San Carlos for another load of stuff...but we still had many more miles yet to cover.
SolVan vaquero
Keys may have changed hands in Mexico, but the actual sale of the SolVan was a US transaction -
law-abiding extranjeros that we are. Therefore, Stan and I zoomed up to the border to pick up our new
Florida license plate, which was whisked to our FL address by a perfectly lovely lady in the Clay County
DMV, then overnighted to Nogales, AZ by our mail service.
With the plate bolted
onto the rear bumper, we hot-footed it back across the border; two days of frost on the pumpkin
in the north country was enough for us! As we single-mindedly pointed the SolVan
toward the Southern Cross, another reason for escaping southward reared its head. A humongous gridlock
of truckers protesting bad treatment by US border guards
totally closed all northbound lanes, the highway through no-man's-land was
shut down, going that-a-way, but, thankfully, not our way, YET.
In the rear-view mirror, a line of truckers as far as the eye
could see, starting to
block the southbound lanes through no-man's-land
The one and only stop on our beeline out of Nogales was at Kilometer 21. Nobody tells the unwary
tourist, but the border is NOT the place where customs inspects and duties are levied. Everyone sails right
through the border thinking they're home free only to be stopped 13 miles down the road at the REAL
customs inspection point.
Our shopping spree in Nogales was limited to tennis shoes and cat food. We had nothing to declare, but
still had to stop at Customs to legalize the SolVan with a Temporary Import Permit. After
picking up the permit, we proceded on to Mexico's
version of the kids' game "Red Light/Green Light." Driving through the check point activates the
signal, which randomly
chooses to shine red, for pull over for a full inspection; or green, for no inspection, you win! We
won with green.
Playing "Red Light/Green Light" at Kilometer 21
Five hours later we were back in San Carlos, ready to pack our last load and search out some warmth. Thank goodness my buddy, Gwen, of Santuario fame, came through with a cat condo. I traded her our eensy- teensy 1-cat sleigh for a limo fit for a king AND queen. They spent 18 hours in it, but spread out over three days, it hardly made an impression on them.
The packed van and the hoodlums in jail
By Thursday the 22nd we were back in the casita overlooking Santiago Bay, receiving singing lessons from the local livestock, who free-range the hood and never sleep. After in-depth study, Stan and I question the children's authors who portray roosters as crowing, "Cock-a-doo-dle-doo".....too many syllables. Our clever birds yell, "Hap-py-birth-day!" at the top of their lungs, day and night. But we're warm, and eventially the serenade blends into the background of waves crashing on the beach, a soothing accompaniment.
Side yard, con gallo
Log #51, House Hunting
Updated February 5th, 2007
Moving this Road Show South
When we dry-docked SolMate in San Carlos the plan was to stay until she sold. Wind, rain and freezing snow (I exaggerate) convinced us to move south, rather than shiver in San Carlos watching the boat sit on her jack stands. January saw us schlepping the SolVan full of boxes 21 hours down the coast. We lucked into a storage unit in Barra de Navidad - the only storage to be had in the greater Manzanillo area - dumped most of the boxes and then wandered farther down the road to Santiago Bay, searching for a place to hang our hula skirts.
Dining salon.
While Stan vanned it back to San Carlos for another load of precious "stuff," I hooked up with Susan, a savvy realtor who manages rentals. The available rentals in the area are mostly furnished, set up for short-termers, just like our #122 Bahia in San Carlos. And like San Carlos, the prices reflect the season. This being high season, the robber barons aren't interested in renting to long-term, budget-minded sailors. They're looking for free and easy tourists anxious to spread their wealth.
Turning right into the kitchen -
pint-sized stove (hidden) matches chest-high refer.
Two rentals were available, a little casita on the hill with a view of Las Hadas penninsula and Santiago Bay, and a studio apartment about the same size as the house, but situated on the main drag next to a disco. Choosing wasn't difficult.
Another right turn into the main ballroom.
Did I mention we lowered our standards, and our budget, this time around? The funky casita fits right into our pocket(book)!
More of the ballroom.
Private chambers.
The very Mexican bed is a mattress on top of a cement pedestal, actually really comfy, but makes it tough to pick up and change the room arrangement.
Veranda.
Six blocks straight down to the beach...we can hear the waves crashing, once the roosters hush up. It's a Mexican neighborhood - everyone's windows are wide open so we can all share each other's lives, and the lives of their dogs and their chickens. The hill behind is undeveloped and reputedly home to wild critters. I can vouch for Pepe LePeaux, geckos, and iguanas...s'posed to be coatis, foxes, and raccoons, too.
Million-dollar ($400) view from the veranda.
Thanks to an obliging stranger, dinner the day I moved in was taken care of, in the friendly liter bottle, which I'd already sampled by the time the camera came out.
