Life in the Slow Lane: Honk, Honk!

We may have sparked an epidemic. We really didn’t mean to. It started innocently; just a small, fun thing, but it’s turned into serious business.
Allow me to back up a little.

We moved to our home in Bucerias in mid-July, so we walked right into the drippy, melty, wilty heat. Brace yourself, it’s coming. So hot, it’s hard to get dressed, and too much to even think about walking anywhere. Within three weeks of living here we bought a used golf cart. Best. Decision. Ever.
Sure beats hoofing it under the glaring sun and clinging humidity, and because we removed the “governor” it even comes with a self-created breeze. If you’re a regular in Bucerias, you’ve seen us motoring along, usually on our way directly to nowhere, with all day to get there.
After meeting oncoming golf carts and having no sound maker to return salutations, it became apparent ours required a horn in order to step up our friendly interaction. We have met many residents and shopkeepers just from driving by a couple of times daily.

The greetings began with simple gestures; smiling and waving. A year later, the addition of the bicycle horn was a game changer. The new norm is smiling, waving, honking, parking, hand clasping, cheek kissing and chatting. Then, “Adios” with more honking.

This horn sport is quickly evolving. Particular amigos along the way now play a vital role. For instance, in addition to tootling our hellos to Francesco and his team at La Quinta Di Francesco on Avenida Las Palmas, we also often enjoy a beverage there while waiting to take pizza home. Francesco is definitely a player.

One evening the man himself presented his own new horn while we waited for our take-out. I nearly hung white knuckled from the ceiling when he surprisingly pulled it out and honked between our heads. Over the blast he exclaimed, “I’ve got one, too!”. As we left, us armed with pizza, he with his horn, Francesco asked, “Are you ready?” Game on!

Staff at the Barchaleta Beer Bar on Las Palmas, and the guys a couple of doors down at the tour booth all join in, waving and signaling the need to honk. The gang at Encore Restaurant and Jazz Lounge on Lázaro Cárdenas is also in on the fun. Although hornless, they yell out, “Beep, Beep” as we pass.

The drivers at our local taxi stand took an interest from the start. (Sitio Royal DeCameron, 329-298-1991) We honk, we all applaud, and they call out, “Hola, Buenas Dias!”. Recently, the taxi stand-golf cart relationship has taken a positive twist. When our grandkids visited us last week, we asked them to bring a bicycle horn. (They are difficult to find here. We brought one from Canadian Tire when we vacationed in Ontario last August). We gifted the horn to the taxi stand, and there’s no turning back. Not only do they return honks, they’ve caused the addition of “dancing” to the “new norm” list, outlined above. All of this speaks to the camaraderie of those who live and work in Bucerias. Thanks for being such good sports, everyone!

Now that high season is over and all our houseguests are gone, we’re talking about getting into a walking routine. Shed that winter fat (aka margaritas, nachos, margaritas, guac, tortillas, margaritas). We’ll combine exercise with exploring. Oh, wait a minute, it’s getting too hot to walk now. Hon, do you have the golf cart keys?