ARROYO SECO, Jalisco, Mexico - After a torrential rainstorm Thursday night, we headed for the beaches Friday to dry, so to speak.
The rain and thunderstorm was spectacular for about an hour, but the muddy mess it made, quite unwelcome. We did weather it better than the last onslaught which lasted several days.
Still, the rain has made the area sooooo lush and green it is amazing. So are the mosquitos, amazing, not lush and green.
We loaded up the Tundra and the quad and headed to a small protected swimming beach at the south end of Playa Grande where CEO Laura said she saw only a single stingray in the water near the rocks .
One is enough for me, single or married.
Randy, Karen, Sylvia and Laura at Beach Camp Bravo
ARROYO SECO, Jalisco, Mexico - The Admiral, CEO Laura and I barreled out of the Pink Flamingo at 7 a.m. Monday, for a drive across two big mountains to the city of Autlan for an appointment with an attorney who has some documents we need.
At least we thought we had an appointment.
His door was securely locked and a group milling about outside said because it was the end of Carnaval Week, it was likely he could be sleeping off a bender.
We were not amused, but, well, it's Mexico.
The wrong place
We were dispatched to another office by a fellow giving us directions who insisted there was an attorney there by the same name. And he was right. But the senor there - now a dispenser of natural drugs - gave up his law practice many years ago. He seemed like he might have been willing to break out his law shingle again, though. The health business looked a little slow.
What was not slow was the Carnaval, gearing up for its last day and night.
Admiral Fox and Laura were cornered by two horsemen who insisted that they drink a cup of a strange-looking punch, poured from a wooden container to be part of the festivities.
Ready to ride again, with drink in hand
The long drive (nearly 6 hours total) was capped back home by the rescue/adoption of a small black dog that had been wandering about the entrance to Arroyo Seco for several days.
We had seen the dog late Sunday night, sleeping in the middle of the road. Then, Monday morning it was still there, though looking somewhat distressed. When we returned Monday afternoon late, Adm. Fox and Laura donned their capture-a-dog outfits and went out to bring the pooch back to the Pink Flamingo.
So far, the dog, which I have dubbed Hazel (though Princessa Hazel seems to have more traction), has been bathed by her attendants and is working her way through a bag of imported salami we purchased at Costco. I believe she also slept in CEO Laura's condominio last night.
If the Princessa demands to drink some of the Pinot Grigio I bought, we will have to talk.
Michael J. Fitzgerald has been a journalist for five decades, working as a writer and editor for newspapers, magazines and web publications. In 2014 he published his first novel, "The Fracking War," followed in 2015 with "Fracking Justice." In 2018, he published "The Devil's Pipeline." He has written a weekly column, "Write On" for the daily 'Finger Lakes Times' newspaper in Geneva, NY for 14 years, He contributes stories to the Contra Costa Pulse newspaper in Richmond, CA. He also writes essays on Substack under the title Write On and On.
