Shortly after arriving in La Cruz, I was tempted by and succumbed to the opportunity of driving in Mexico with the following result.
Realizing it was Sunday, La Cruz market, day, I headed down the beach to the market. I purchased one fresh cheese bagel to eat at home, ten pesos. I should have splurged and bought two. Also scored strawberries and blueberries, and checked out the daily fish market. I enjoy the varieties of fish and shrimp and the interactions between vendors and tourists.
Realizing it was Sunday in mid-November meant Canadian Football League (CFL) playoff football. While La Cruz may be a Mecca of rock n roll music, it’s coverage of CFL football is somewhat lacking.
That meant a ROAD trip.
All the way to Bucerias, a fifteen-minute journey depending on your speed as you hit the “taupes”. (Taupes are speed bumps they put everywhere, sometimes they’re painted yellow and really easy to see, but mostly not).
There are several sports bars in Bucerias and the crowd was great. Calgary seemed well in control at halftime so even though it was the CFL we left to head over to Mr. & Mrs. Fish, best in town and their clam chowder is amazing.
We heard music from the beach, so defying all logic, stopped watching a CFL game before the final whistle, finished our food and headed across the street for live rock n roll. And maybe some cold beer, it was after all thirty Celsius and sunny. The gods were kind that day, Calgary won. There will be no mention of the Grey Cup result as this is not a sports column.
One of our original plans for the day (actually the only one) was to go out in La Cruz and watch two of our favorite musicians.
We left the beach, headed home and freshened up. I parked by the side door of the bar and my wife could have stepped from the vehicle, onto the sidewalk, up the stairs and into the bar to the table we sat at.
She decided to step on the road before stepping to the sidewalk. “Help Help” resonated from the far side of the vehicle. Throwing caution to the wind, I jumped out, dashed around the vehicle and inquired what was wrong?
Some tall grass on the road had touched her leg.
Assisting my wife onto the sidewalk I locked the vehicle, thinking that I had not adapted to small town living, no more than ten feet away from the vehicle, the bar door was open, yet still I locked the vehicle. Hard to stop big city habits.
The band was amazing, playing with energy and passion and we stayed until closing, actually, a little past. I started looking for the keys and didn’t panic as I was wearing cargo shorts with many pockets to check and re-check.
There were no more pockets to check. We trudged out the door, shone lights in the vehicle and there were my keys dangling from the ignition! Not a big deal. I had an extra set at home so decided to call a cab and walk back the next morning.
What could go wrong with that plan?
Remember, Never a bad day in Mexico.
The cab was fifty pesos.
Stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion in my next column as I battle adversity before being rescued by a Canadian icon, the “RCMP”.