Whales and rain

I did not have high expectations of our whale watching trip this morning. I had always assumed that there would be no whales ("such a shame, there were so many here yesterday"), or that they would be blowing and leaping just on the horizon only to disappear into the depths when you finally got there. Alexis remarked that it might be like the old Kit-Kat advert where the guy stands for hours trying to get a picture of some pandas and when he finally turns his back to eat his snack they come out on roller skates. The whales would be just behind us, doing acrobatics, killing themselves laughing...

So, it was rather nice to be proved completely wrong. We saw around 12 whales, males, females, juveniles and one very young calf. We got very close as they surfaced, saw some of them turning and rolling, and heard the massive exhalation as they 'blew'. We followed the last group, with the young calf, the mother and a male 'escort', for some time. The female was enormous, (for a whale it's not insulting to say she was really really wide) and the calf looked tiny in comparison, but was still probably several tons.

As I've mentioned before, the weather has been terrible, so it was no surprise that the rain came in halfway through the trip. But it was surprising how ferocious the downpour became. The surface of the sea (mercifully calm) was almost 'furry' with the splashes of the raindrops, like an oily silver grey blanket, the noise was astonishing, and the horizon in every direction completely disappeared. Luckily this was at the end of the trip, but we had to sit for a few moments while the crew got the gps going to figure out which way to head home.

We got drenched, but the memory of the whales more than made up for the occasional shiver as we came back to shore. A wonderful way to spend a Monday morning.

The morning after the night before.

Sunday was a recovery day. On Saturday night we'd had dinner at Archie's Wok, an Asian fusion restaurant downtown, followed by a trip to the Roxy Bar, scene of Alexis's former conquests and general debauchery. The live band were excellent, the beer flowed, Alexis could hardly contain her nostalgia, but we decided to call it a day around 2:30am.

So, Sunday morning we walked to '100% Natural' to get juices to fix our livers and eggs to quieten our stomachs. The service was hopeless - the waitress could not explain why the omelette was not gluten-free, but when it arrived we discovered it was served with two small slices of bread.

We wandered back along the seafront, dropped in for another monster double expresso at my favourite coffee shop (though someone had already bagged the deckchairs...) and then came back for a siesta. The evening was a quiet night in, with peppermint tea, some homemade nachos with refried beans, and the DVD of Nacho Libre. Sounds pathetic, I know, but we needed to recover in time for New Year's Eve!

The Night of the Iguana

In 1964 the American director, John Huston, made a film called The Night of the Iguana staring Richard Burton and Ava Gardner, based on the play by Tennessee Williams. He constructed the set, consisting of a small hotel and some beach huts, completely from scratch on the coast just south of Puerto Vallarta, at a place called Mismaloya.

On Boxing Day, we took the bus along the coast road (an experience in itself and great value at just 8 pesos, 40p per person), to the same small beach, which now has a large all-inclusive resort hotel at one end, but still has a certain rough charm with beach cafés at the other. We wandered off along a decrepit concrete path to find the ruins of the set, now surrounded by barbed wire and warning signs. Apparently this had been a major tourist attraction when Alexis was last here and the film itself is thought to have contributed to the significant growth in the visitor numbers to Puerto Vallarta in the 60s and 70s. But since the film is now 50 years old, it's hardly surprising that they couldn't sustain the demand to keep the place open. We got the barest glimpse of what must have once been a rather stylish attraction.

So, we did the next best thing. We came back to the apartment after our excursion on Friday and sat and watched the film on DVD. It's a slightly gritty romance in black & white, definitely of its time, but a great way to end a busy day.

La Playa

I discovered today that the area at the back of the cafe, 'A Page in the Sun', where the deckchairs are arranged around a low table, is called La Playa, the beach. I have the largest double espresso I've ever seen, so I may be flying out of here like the parascenders dragged off behind a speedboat.

Yesterday we did the tourist thing and went on an excursion. Highlights included seeing coffee, cocoa and vanilla plants in a botanical garden up in the hills, a roadside bakery where they built a sort of pizza oven into the hillside, an artisan cheese producer, lunch sitting in the middle of a river (yes, with our feet in the water) and a tour of a small family-run tequila distillery, with the obligatory tasting. Alexis succumbed to the temptation of a tequila infused with coffee and chocolate. I hope the bottle survives the journey home.

Our tour mates included a Mexican family from Mexico City, with the eldest son, Arnolfo, waiting to hear if his application for a Masters in Computer Science at Manchester University has been successful, and a couple from Vancouver who had previously lived in the Cotswolds for a year whilst on a sabbatical and knew friends who lived in Sandbach!

Delightful company, with a very young but very skilled guide, made for a great day.

The weather unfortunately has not been so good, and the forecast for the rest of our stay ranges from poor to terrible. I don't think this is divine retribution (did I gloat too much about coming to all-day sunshine and 30 degrees?), and I'm treating it with indifference. If it rains it rains, but at least it's warm. I think Alexis is disappointed, after she'd built up my expectations, but I'm just enjoying my monster espresso in La Playa.

Merry Christmas

I had never started a Christmas Day with a swim in the Pacific Ocean, until today. Warm water, big waves, hot sun, pelicans gliding by just inches from the surface. What an experience! We had a coffee in a little bar to get us prepared, but in the end the sea was just so pleasant I didn't need any stimulants to go in.

We walked back up the hill and had our Christmas FaceTime sessions with M&D and P&N at Mart's, and with J&G in Lanzarote. The Leigh-on-Sea crowd were sitting round the fire, snacking and recovering from their enormous turkey dinner; J&G were in their apartment because it was too hot outside! It's a weird world sometimes.

Christmas dinner for us was at 2pm at the River Cafe, on the little island in the middle of the river Cuale. We had a table on a kind of platform over the river, with white drapes hanging from a wooden gazebo affair. Palm trees within touching distance and the river flowing by the side of us. After some guacamole and two whopping Margheritas we were slightly dazed by the 'other worldliness' of it all, and after a wonderful meal my delightful companion and I decided that it would be wise to take an espresso and a walk along the promenade, just to bring us back down to earth. The wind was stronger now, but the cooling breeze wasn't enough to ease the long walk back up the hill.

Alexis has gone for a siesta, while I'm lying on the sofa looking out onto the ocean, with some James Taylor playing in the background.

I suspect that when she wakes up we'll head off for another stroll, to watch the sunset down on the beach.

Merry Christmas, one and all.

Glenn and Cesar

One of our neighbours, Glenn, had recommended a market and deli down in the old part of town, which turned out to have some gluten free stuff for Alexis. On the way we stopped to have a fresh coconut from a street vendor - just the top chopped off and a straw to drink the water inside.

We found a tequila shop where the guy claimed to know some people that had worked with Alexis way back, and after a few samples we were persuaded to buy a nice bottle with a couple of shot glasses. He gave us some recommendations for restaurants, with strict instructions to mention his name, Cesar Ruiz.

Early evening saw me practice my new favourite pastime of making Margheritas. Why have I not discovered these marvels before? With the salt round the glass and the slice of lime, there's nothing finer in this weather.

Our Christmas Eve dinner was a sumptuous affair in one of the top restaurants in town. Alexis, my personal tour guide, had remembered 'Cafe Des Artistes' from her past visits and had rather cleverly prebooked. What a meal! A mere seven courses, including a smoked tomato soup, poured from a wine bottle into a wine glass containing a corn foam. Perhaps most bizarre was the pianist & violinist playing Jingle Bells and Silent Night.

We could barely move after all the food, but managed to walk down to the sea front to join the families and tourists doing their night-time promenade. Alexis spotted one of her old haunts and so we went in to Zoo Bar. Unfortunately it wasn't very busy but the lack of atmosphere was offset by the fabulously old fashioned music videos - Wham, Heatwave, Village People!

A fabulous day - I'm definitely in the groove now.

Ceiling fans and deckchairs

This is the first time I've ever woken up on Christmas morning with a gentle cooling breeze from a ceiling fan and a view of the sea from the bedroom window. All very strange, but really rather pleasant.

Yesterday started with a run along the seafront. It was warm but not uncomfortable: we finished around 8:30am, just before the sun rose above the hills and really started to beat down. The promenade was busy with joggers, walkers, people carrying pastries and fruit to beachside cafés, even a pair of white horses being prepared for what we thought might be a beach wedding. It was a great start to the day and we returned to have breakfast on our balcony - an Alexis special of granola, yoghurt and papaya.

Then we managed to connect with the folks back home on FaceTime. It was very strange to see them sitting around the fire, talking about their adventure to pick up the turkey through floods and road closures.

We had found a nice coffee shop one block back from the beach, called 'A Page in the Sun'. It's more of a secondhand bookshop, with the walls lined with shelves of multinational fiction. It has free wifi, and best of all a couple of deckchairs that Alexis and I have adopted as our own. So, late morning on Christmas Eve found us browsing the books, drinking an espresso, reading The Times whilst in a deckchair!

Here at last

Chicago airport laughs in the face of a light snow shower, so we were on our way on time on Sunday morning. The flight was around four hours but it felt much longer, perhaps because we didn't settle down for a long haul like we had the day before. Anyway, for sheer boredom the flight paled in comparison to the immigration delays at Puerto Vallarta airport, which welcomed us with a shuffling snaking queue lasting just under 2 hours.

I'd actually been looking forward to seeing what immigration would be like after completing the Mexican customs form on the plane. The form provides handy advice of the items that are considered 'for personal use' and therefore not subject to import duty. These included "Four fishing rods, three surf boards (with or without sails), a pair of binoculars and a telescope, two musical instruments..." and the list went on. Sadly, the queue just didn't live up to my expectations.

We reached our fantastic apartment in the late afternoon, just as the sun was setting over the sea. We have a balcony with a wonderful view of the ocean and so we just watched as the sky turned a dramatic warm red. The journey had definitely been worth it.

Then it was a rapid unpack and a walk down to the seafront for dinner. We ate at The Blue Shrimp, right on the beach, with the waves breaking in the darkness, Guacamole prepared from all the raw ingredients at our table and a Margherita which the waiter served by holding the bottle of tequila over the glass, starting to pour, and saying "you tell me when..."

Don't let it snow, don't let it snow, don't let it snow...

Our transatlantic flight was uneventful, which is absolutely fine by me. The last thing I wanted was an 'event' at 36,000ft over Greenland. I'm not a nervous traveller, but sitting having breakfast at Mum & Dad's we'd heard several items on the news about the 25th anniversary of Lockerbie, and the weather forecaster was showing maps of what looked like a hurricane over the North Atlantic. Mum then kindly referred me to the newspaper articles saying Saturday was going to see the big Christmas getaway and chaos would ensue on the roads and at railway stations and airports across the country.

But here I am in the Hilton at Chicago airport, after a great nights sleep, getting ready for the next leg - flying down Mexico way!

Alexis is getting very excited, but is currently absorbed in finding out all the terrible things American TV has to offer on a Sunday morning. I'm sitting by the window watching the light snow shower over the multi-storey car park.

Alexis is now panicking that we're going to get snowed-in...

It's all about memories...

The reason we're going to this particular destination, Puerto Vallarta, is because Alexis used to live and work there. She's really looking forward to returning: she's talked about the sea and the beaches, the old town, the bars and restaurants, the bars again (it was during her party phase...), and about the atmosphere, the smell, the feel of the place. She can't wait to introduce me to a location that has been so important in her life, and I can't wait to experience it for myself.

As it happens, I'm writing this at Mum & Dad's house in Stevenage, which is a place that, whilst not as exotic as Mexico, is still very important to me. I first lived here at the tender age of 2 weeks, and moved away to university 18 years later. Coming back is always special. I was just printing off our boarding cards in my former bedroom, and now I'm sitting in the lounge with M&D, thinking about how lucky I am to have this connection to my childhood. Obviously the house has changed a lot, but my senses still make that link, often subconsciously, to the great times I spent here with M&D and Martin and Ian.

I think Alexis's senses will make that same subliminal connection to Puerto Vallarta as soon as she steps off the plane. I can't wait to see her face...

It's still a week 'til Christmas, but only two more sleeps before we start our journey to Mexico! All journeys start with one small step and for us it's the M6 southbound on Friday lunchtime.