Thursday, March 5, 2009

Zihua.

This morning, once again, I left our villa loaded for bear. I’ve got the essential lures, connectors and tools for my surf fishing packed into a couple of clear plastic boxes. Those, along with a small pair of binoculars and some extra gear to trade if I need something, fit neatly into my backpack. My nine-foot, medium-weight surf rod breaks down into two equal parts. I can pretty much carry everything with me all day, just in case.
Counting iguana sightings along the way to town, we headed for Zihua Coffee. We lingered over breakfast and a couple of rounds of their rich, strong brew, taking advantage of their pleasant open-air patio to watch the daily goings on along the pedestrians-only street. By then, it was noon (we don’t get started very early!). Sally did some shopping, and then I went down to the marina to see if I could fish from the pier. There are no “Prohibido Pescar de la Muelle” signs, but still I was concerned about what the charter captains and their agents might think of someone managing to fish—no matter how futilely—without paying someone. I started with a few innocent casts in an out-of-the-way place, and soon was casting with impunity between the returning fishing pangas and all around the pier. There were even schools of nice-sized bait fish swimming around to bait my imagination of larger fish, but alas, again no jureles (jack crevalle)!
While Sally read and relaxed in the sun, I walked down the beach to Playa Madera where, at last, the pelicans’ feeding frenzy had moved close enough to shore for me to reach by casting. It may not sound like much, but I was encouraged by the one strike I felt. The quest continues…

Tonight, we enjoyed a really special turn of events at Puerta del Sol, a cliffside restaurant not far from us. The food was excellent, the U.S. 30's and 40's music was mellow and romantic, but the real beauty was that two young members of the staff (our waiter and the bartender, Maira) seemed to sort of "adopt" us. Maira, who speaks no English, told us all about herself and her family, and ended up proudly sharing an album of photos of her recent wedding. We promised to come and see them again next year, and I doubt that Sally will leave this year before getting her a wedding gift. This experience is exactly why I've learned to speak Spanish -- and why we're coming to love Zihua so much.

As I write, five of our resident lagartijas (lizards) are patrolling the ceiling and walls for any unwary insects. (Since we’ve seen almost none, they must catch them before we ever see them.) We’ve learned this trip that these little guys can move very fast and that they can be noisy! Now, whenever we hear a little birdlike chatter after dark, it’s probably the lagartijas.

1 comment:

awillius said...

Hey Dad. While I haven't read all of your posts, I just read several and am jealous and FEARFUL of your trip. Dead policeman, mothers being kidnapped... I just can't imagine. Then again, it might be worth it to take a class at that gorgeous yoga studio, meet Walrus, and pet some of those stray dogs that Sally keeps adopting. Thinking of you - Amanda