The Pink Flamingo Doors have arrived with, um, a Pink Flamingo

ARROYO SECO, Jalisco, Mexico - We were getting ready to head out to the beach today for a fiesta with our French surfer-dude amigo Julien when our welder-dude amigo, Victor, showed up with our new doors for the front of the property.

Victor is a welder, but beneath the goggles and torches, he is an artist.

And so a few weeks ago we commissioned him to build us some big steel doors for the front of the Pink Flamingo. Of course, the doors we ordered were to have a pink flamingo as part of the design.

They do.

They really do.


Victor with his artwork doors

The irony - and there is plenty to go around - is that after we had turned Victor loose on the project, we decided not to build a concrete wall out front this season, where the doors were to hang.

So now we have the doors, and next year will build a wall on which to hang them.

It might take me that long to get used to looking at the Pink Flamingo painted on them.


Julien, Michelle, Maurice and Max

After we got the doors squared away, the Admiral and I headed via quad to Playa Grande for a largely French family fete on the beach with Julien, his brother Max, father Maurice (and his wife, Michelle), Max's amiga Ana and Pink Flamingo Chief Education Officer Laura Warner.

The food was amazing: oysters, platters of barbecued dorado, fresh salads, tortillas, wine, and of course, a lot of Mexican beer.

But the most amazing part, for me, was trying to listen (and speak) English, French and Spanish, almost simultaneously.

It was amazing because years of high school and college French began to come back the more we talked. And Spanish was the default language when we couldn't communicate.

Thank you Jon Giacco (one of my high school French teachers), for drilling something into my head.

And also a thank you to Pink Flamingo Chief Education Officer Laura Warner (fluent in Spanish, French and English) for filling in the many gaps in conversation.

Mon Dieu! It was complicated.


Party dives into the oysters

Checking out that crashing sound - the waves on the beach

ARROYO SECO, Jalisco, Mexico - The Admiral and I were in the middle of our morning routines today, when the sound of the crashing surf - nearly a mile away - shook us out of routine reverie and we walked down to see what all the, well, crashing, was about.

With Samba in tow (the dog who is taken care of by our surfer-dude amigo Julien part of the winter), we marched down, noting that we could see the spray from the waves a good half-mile off.

We were rewarded with a beach covered with water, a combination of a high tide and 10-15 foot waves smashing the sand.


Big waves keep on coming

The sound was pretty incredible and there wasn't a lot of space to walk without getting our shoes wet. Yes, we were on a beach. Yes, you should expect to get your feet wet. But, no. I wear hiking boots on such day hikes and don't care for getting them soaking and squeaking for the mile-walk back to the Pink Flamingo.



Sanders and Pat Lamont have left us for the bright lights of La Manzanilla where they are staying at the beautiful seaside casa owned by Kate Fisher. After a week of the down-home, country life of Arroyo Seco, I think they are probably ready for some night life beyond the four of us sitting around the bar at the Flamingo, drinking Spanish wine and playing some music.

Of course, we are plotting a couple of forays into La Manzanilla while they are there this week: lunch at Palapa Joes, dinner at Figaro's, breakfast at Cafe Risa. And maybe even dragging the sailing dinghy over to the Tenacatita Bay beach for a trial run with the sail rig.

The dinghy - named the Captain's Gig - passed the float test in the laguna a few days ago and is ready for sea trials since repairs were done in Sacramento by Sabbatical's Chief Engineer Scott Noble. Captain's Gig has sailed in San Francisco Bay, around San Diego, in the Sea of Cortez and all along the Mexican coast from Mazatlan to Zihuatenejo.

A sailing day does mean taking time off from watering the grass here in Arroyo Seco and tending to our many plants (not to mention the various dogs under the Admiral's care).

"Your orders, Captain?"

Get ready to make sail!


The green, green grass of Arroyo Seco

Taking the morning to go surfing at Playa Chica

ARROYO SECO, Jalisco, Mexico - No, I didn't actually climb aboard a real surfboard today. I left that duty to a new amigo, Ricardo, who hails from South Africa by way of Ashland, Oregon where he and his amiga Amy live.

Amy and Richard arrived yesterday bearing gifts from the Admiral's cousin Lynn and her partner Suzanne who had seen the couple in Yelapa, at the memorial service for Isabel, the woman who died earlier this year after falling off a staircase in La Manzanilla.

What were the gifts? A set of pink flamingo glasses and stir sticks. Amazing! We celebrated the gift with a round of Cuba Libres - in the flamingo glasses, of course.


The Admiral and Amy at Playa Chica

What I did do - instead of surfing - was jump on one of our boogie boards to go out and challenge the waves.

The cross currents were pretty strong, knocking me over several times when I lost my footing. So after just a few rides I decided to take it a little easier today. I can always head back to the beach.


Richard comes in from the surf

The waves were better for surfing than for boogie boarding and Richard is hoping to get a repeat tomorrow of today's good surf before he and Amy make their way back north.

Here's a very brief video of our amigo Max (from France) followed by a short clip of Richard getting a ride.

Why having a local guide is sooooooooo important

ARROYO SECO, Jalisco, Mexico - The Admiral and I spent Saturday morning out and about, buying five large palm trees for the front of the palapa and with Barra de Navidad amigos, Mark and Jackie, who came by the Pink Flamingo for a visit, beach tour, and lunch.

But late in the day, our French surfer-dude amigo Julien came by and asked if we wanted to climb the hill behind the village to the beach, from which he said there was a spectacular view of the ocean and a great place to watch the sunset.

The French are generally not given to understatement, but in this case, Julien definitely didn't tell the whole story.

C'est magnifique!


Playa Chica from the mountaintop


Pacific sunset


Mountaintop view

We hiked up with Julien and Rocio, the veterinarian from La Manzanilla who was Lucky Dog's primary care physician until his infirmities got so bad we had to put him to sleep two weeks ago. (Pardon the euphemism, but it's hard for me to say the more common, 'put the dog down.')

The hike proved to be just the right tonic for me, my lungs complaining most of the way, but I did trot the last 50 feet to the top and do little Rocky Balboa dance to celebrate being able to get a full breath of air. At least most of the time.


Rocky Balboa


Just short of the summit


Captain, Admiral and Rocio at the top

After the sunset, we carefully threaded our way back down about a mile-long hillside, particularly careful because it was quite dark by the bottom. (NOTE TO CAPTAIN: Carry flashlight on all early evening hikes.)

But the fun wasn't over.

Julien offered to cook crepes for all of us - and our neighbors Chena and Chon and their children it turned out. He used our outdoor kitchen, which proved up to the task. The crepes were like the view from the hill, magnifique.


Chena and Julien making the les crepes

The day's fun wasn't over when the last of the crepes were done, however.

Sylvia excused herself to use the bathroom facilities and gave a short shriek when she discovered she was not alone in el bano. Apparently the nice patterns on the curtains in front of the bathroom - and maybe the cool tile - was an enticement to one of our resident toads.


Toad visitor - evicted by the Admiral

We had another bit of fauna visit, a tiny frog that seemed to take a shine to a big frog-shaped flower pot we purchased at the vivero (plant nursery) along with our new palm trees. The little frog stuck with the flower power (maceta in Spanish) all evening while we ate crepes. This morning he (or she, I suppose) was gone. But we expect he (or she) to return when it cools down the flower pot is not in the sun.


Frog and frog