On weekends, Ajijic welcomes a few thousand visiting Tapatios--people from Guadalajara. Some own weekend homes here, while others pay weekend rents or stay with relatives. They shop and eat and swell the streets and the economy. Our end of Calle Morelos is closed to traffic, and come evening, restaurants and bars fill the streets with tables and chairs. Bands play, people dance, vendors vend, and the noise level rises. I have no Saturday evening photos to prove this, as I went out without my camera, but it was a whole different town out there. The fireworks--something along the line of cherry bombs--don't usually begin in earnest until after midnight.
I have not forgotten I promised you large fowl. There will be photos of large fowl down the page.
We started the day more quietly with breakfast at La Casa del Café, and a walk to the Plaza. While we were sitting on a bench watching Mexico walk by, I saw a woman approaching whose face I knew well--Patricia Walker. Pat has been writing a blog about living in Ajijic for about 10 years, and we had been planning to meet up Monday at the spa in San Juan Cosalá, where she goes to swim. She recognized us from pictures I sent her, so we sat down to chat.
Before we got up again, she had invited me to consider house-sitting for her for three weeks next summer when she goes to the States to visit her family. We took a taxi to her casita and I got to see the digs, the garden, and the Joe-like little dog I'd been reading about for months on her blog.
I told her I'd seriously consider her offer of living rent-free in Ajijic for three weeks next year.
Tamara and I had been planning to take a taxi to the nearest farmacia and see if they'd refill a medication she needed, so after doing a little more shopping, we did just that. Farmacia Guadalajara is a sizeable drug and grocery store not far from where Pat lives, and they were happy to sell Tamara the pills she needed. Mission accomplished. Back to the Plaza, where we discovered too late that she'd left her shopping bag in the cab.
The cab drivers mobilized to find the driver and the bag. "If you left it in the taxi, it will still be in the taxi," they assured her, and it would have been, except a family had gotten into the cab right after us with lots of shopping bags, and when they left they must have mistaken T's bag for one of theirs. Major bummer.
We went to lunch at the Peacock Garden, which was exactly what it sounds like.
Customers eat in a garden where peacocks and chickens wander up to your table to see what you have for them.
Or sometimes they cop a quick nap.
In the evening we went back to the Malecon for a while...
...then walked back up and ate at Pasta Trenta again. Dinners are quite a leisurely affair around here. You don't wait long for a server, but your order may take noticeably longer to arrive than it does North of the Border, or N.O.B. as the expats call it. After you eat, nobody will ever make a move to get you out of your chair, even when they're quite obviously closing up the place around your ears. Until you ask for la cuenta, you can stay right where you are. "They might be closing," a waiter told us the other night, "but I'm not closing."
Tomorrow's story: Sunday in the Plaza, mostly.
Here's a bonus photo: A Galeana, or African Tulip tree.
I have not forgotten I promised you large fowl. There will be photos of large fowl down the page.
We started the day more quietly with breakfast at La Casa del Café, and a walk to the Plaza. While we were sitting on a bench watching Mexico walk by, I saw a woman approaching whose face I knew well--Patricia Walker. Pat has been writing a blog about living in Ajijic for about 10 years, and we had been planning to meet up Monday at the spa in San Juan Cosalá, where she goes to swim. She recognized us from pictures I sent her, so we sat down to chat.
Before we got up again, she had invited me to consider house-sitting for her for three weeks next summer when she goes to the States to visit her family. We took a taxi to her casita and I got to see the digs, the garden, and the Joe-like little dog I'd been reading about for months on her blog.
I told her I'd seriously consider her offer of living rent-free in Ajijic for three weeks next year.
Tamara and I had been planning to take a taxi to the nearest farmacia and see if they'd refill a medication she needed, so after doing a little more shopping, we did just that. Farmacia Guadalajara is a sizeable drug and grocery store not far from where Pat lives, and they were happy to sell Tamara the pills she needed. Mission accomplished. Back to the Plaza, where we discovered too late that she'd left her shopping bag in the cab.
The cab drivers mobilized to find the driver and the bag. "If you left it in the taxi, it will still be in the taxi," they assured her, and it would have been, except a family had gotten into the cab right after us with lots of shopping bags, and when they left they must have mistaken T's bag for one of theirs. Major bummer.
We went to lunch at the Peacock Garden, which was exactly what it sounds like.
Customers eat in a garden where peacocks and chickens wander up to your table to see what you have for them.
Or sometimes they cop a quick nap.
In the evening we went back to the Malecon for a while...
...then walked back up and ate at Pasta Trenta again. Dinners are quite a leisurely affair around here. You don't wait long for a server, but your order may take noticeably longer to arrive than it does North of the Border, or N.O.B. as the expats call it. After you eat, nobody will ever make a move to get you out of your chair, even when they're quite obviously closing up the place around your ears. Until you ask for la cuenta, you can stay right where you are. "They might be closing," a waiter told us the other night, "but I'm not closing."
Tomorrow's story: Sunday in the Plaza, mostly.
Here's a bonus photo: A Galeana, or African Tulip tree.
1 comment:
Shit, if you don’t housesit, I think one of us would be thrilled to! We’ve got Pat covered. ��
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