Margie has a floor to ceiling wine cellar larger than her walk-in closet with a wine collection that makes her shoe racks pale in comparison. We go down and pick out a nice bottle of Shiraz to share. While sitting across the bar from pistachio-eating husband Chris, he asks, “So where you headed?” “I have no idea. I was thinking about Rosarito.” “hhhmmmm….I don’t think you would like that. It’s full of drunk college kids. Better keep going on down to Ensenada. It’s a nice waterfront. Great food. I think you’ll like it.” Continue reading
Category Archives: Mexico
The Bus, The Backpack, and The Baja
My long time friend Margie (not to be confused with “Marcia” in the last post) lives in El Cajon, just outside of San Diego. I have known her for 24 years. Back in 1993 when I decided to change everything about my life, get myself out of a bad marriage, sell my house and car, and transfer from Texas to Manhattan for a new job, Margie was my first New York friend. I had accepted a transfer as National Account Manager for American Express. My client would be the United Nations, and I would have an office on the 19th floor of the Secretariat Building. A big leap for a farm girl from Texas. Continue reading
Rite of Passage
I once read somewhere that no self-respecting RVer could call themselves a “full timer” without a trip across the border for dental work. That never really made sense for me in the past, because along with the golden handcuffs of my corporate job came really good dental insurance. Why drive to a border town to pay $35 for a cleaning, when Delta Dental would pick up the tab? Continue reading
San Miguel Sunday Hiking Club
It didn’t take long after my arrival in San Miguel to realize I was in hiking withdrawal. After a couple of walks all the way across town to the Mega Supermarket “just to have some place to go,” I realized the cobblestone streets of Centro Historico were not going to be enough to satiate my need for perpetual motion that had plagued me since retirement in October. I still seemed to be suffering from “restless leg syndrome.” Continue reading
If It’s Tuesday, This Must Be…
If it’s Tuesday, this must be….market day!
Early Tuesday morning, a steady stream of taxis, delivery vehicles and farm trucks rumble up the hills of the Cuesta de San Jose and Canal Street toward San Miguel’s Tuesday Market, also known as “Tianguis del Martes.” It only takes place on Tuesdays (ergo the name “Tuesday Market,”) between the hours of 9am and 4pm. Just the fact that an open-air market of this size, estimated to be as large as three football fields, can set up and disassemble so quickly for only one day a week makes it worth the trip. Continue reading
Entertaining Myself in Artful San Miguel
Despite the near-perfect climate at 6,200 ft elevation, the fact that San Miguel de Allende has such a large expat community can be mostly attributed to the arts. If the Parroquia and Jardin are the heart of the city, the Instituto Allende is the creative right brain. Continue reading
Same Ole San Miguel?
It was my sixth or seventh trip to San Miguel de Allende. I’ve lost count of the visits there spanning from two weeks to two months since 2007. My brother Don first broke the news that he had read about this mountain town / artist community that some gringos consider utopia in old Colonial Mexico, so he was driving his Toyota Land Cruiser down from Texas for a month to check it out. He had received a book for Christmas, Tony Cohan’s On Mexican Time, a book that would prompt a permanent paradigm shift for us both about our neighbors to the south. Continue reading
Happy in the Jardin
From Thanksgiving amidst the red rocks of the great Southwest to the Jardin at midnight in San Miguel de Allende in one blog post, I have some ‘splainin’ to do. One of my intentions after retiring was to finally get the blog into “real time,” and we see how that has gone. I can’t seem to get caught up, no matter how hard I try. Do I dare make this a resolution? Continue reading
Rough Re-entry and One Last Look Back…
I left Oaxaca on a perfect Sunday morning with the temperature gauge on its way up to the mid 80’s, and landed in DFW that night to 17 degrees. I had to wait for Super Shuttle in the wind tunnel that is the Lower Level of DFW for half an hour, wearing nothing but a pair of cotton pants, thin cotton socks, a light knit jacket, and the small gauzy blanket I had stolen off of AeroMexico. Continue reading
Following Yonder Star
One of my favorite things about visiting Mexico over the holiday season, in addition to the glorious weather and gorgeous scenery, is the authenticity with which the Mexican people approach the holiday season.
Decorations tend toward nativity scenes, piñatas, and poinsettias, and less toward tinsel and tacky Griswald-esque lawn ornaments. Continue reading