Fishing, Cooling and Cleaning

As the countdown continues to my departure from Loreto to return to Canada in a couple of weeks, I am trying to knock things off my “bucket” list to wrap up this season’s Blog topics.  So last weekend I decided to go fishing for the first time this season.

While sport-fishing from a panga boat is the “normal” way to fish here, I enjoy being able to cast from the shoreline around Punta Nopolo, the rocky outcrop at the south end of the development, that gives it’s name to the district around Loreto Bay.  This spot is ideal for me, first because it is a 15 minute walk from my home and it gives me access to deeper water than the shallow shoreline that makes up the rest of the Bay.

You will note that my reasons for this preference did NOT include the results that I have had on previous occasions when I have fished from this location.  That is because it is important for you to understand the criteria on which I base my success, when it comes to fishing.  For me, it’s all about the journey and not the destination – in other words, actually catching fish is not the object of the exercise.

Rather, it’s an admirable excuse for taking a nice walk along the beach and occupying a couple of hours at the water’s edge; watching the waves, the tropical fish darting among the rocks, and enjoying the views  of sea, sky, and shore stretching all around me.  Based on my past experience, my measure of success when fishing is not gauged by what I catch – but how little I lose, lures and tackle, etc.

So with that that perspective in mind, I collected my tackle bag, fishing rod, a bucket with other accessories and my camera and I headed out.  When I first reached the beach the water was calm and there was only a slight breeze, so far so good.  It was also low tide, which means that the apron of rock around the base of Punta Nopolo where I like to stand and cast from would be exposed and accessible.  As I continued along the shore I noticed rolls of dried seaweed scattered along the beach where it had been stranded by the receding water of the low tide.

The significance of this seaweed eluded me at the time, and I carried on to the end of the beach and started out around the shelf of rock surrounding Punta Nopolo to my first casting spot.  As I reached the large rocks at the edge of the water I saw that they were covered underwater with a huge bloom of thick seaweed that I had seen the tell-tale traces of on the shore.  There would be no fishing from shore today – any lure I used would become hopelessly tangled in the thick weeds when I retrieved it after casting.

The presence of seaweed is not a common occurrence in these waters, most of the year the water is clear of vegetation.  But, like many other natural elements in this environment, things come in and out of season and run in cycles – and this is the “season” for seaweed.  As I have described in the past; every bug has it’s season, but that season is limited – by another bug, and so the cycle continues.

There I was, halfway around Punta Nopolo, carrying all my fishing equipment, but not able to fish.  So, I continued around the base of Punta Nopolo, enjoying the views, watching kayaks, snorkelers, and birds.  Scrambling up and over boulders relaying the fishing equipment from one resting spot to another, taking several rest stops in shady spots until I made it all the way around and reached the beach at the entrance to the estuary on the far side.

Standing on the beach in a few inches of water was a majestic grey heron, still as a sculpture, fishing for lunch.  I gradually approached to get closer pictures, with the full knowledge of the bird, which checked my progress with each advance, even though I never got closer than 50 feet away.  Finally, however, I broke through some invisible “heron barrier” and with a guttural squawk it was airborne, clearing the estuary bay with a few powerful strokes of it’s massive wingspan.

While a sighting of this kind of bird is uncommon, it is not unheard of – but for me, it holds a special significance.  Many years ago I did a soul retrieval with a Shaman in western Canada following which, he told me that my Power Animal was a Grey Heron, not quite the Lion or Tiger I had wished for, but as I learned more about the characteristics of this creature the more I came to appreciate my newly discovered relationship.  It is for this reason that I take particular comfort from these occasional sightings – it is important to me that I live somewhere that my Power Animal calls home.

With the departure of the Heron it was time for me to head back along the beach to my home, still carrying my unused fishing equipment, but I was not returning empty handed, in fact, the catch of the day turned out to be far more than the few “nibbles” I had expected at the outset.  Adapting to the change of plans, scrambling up and over the boulders, enjoying the peace, beauty and solitude as I paused to rest, and culminating with my Heron encounter – this simple exercise of going for a walk had taken on a spiritual significance.

On a more mundane level, I have been making other pre-departure preparations this past week.  Recently the air conditioning quit in my car, and with a long hot drive ahead of me in a couple of weeks fixing it was definitely a priority.  I got a referral from another Homeowner to someone in town who services both home and car A/C systems.  After locating their home and place of business in the Zaragosa district of town, I managed to communicate the problem and understand the solution (lubricating the compressor and recharging the Freon coolant) and agree on the charge of 750 pesos, about $65.00. 

However, before the work could begin he managed to explain that he needed to buy the lubricant at an electrical supply shop downtown and so I drove him to the store and then gave him the cash to purchase the $25 spray can of lubricant.  After we returned, the servicing only took about half an hour and then I paid the balance of what I owed (plus a small “propina” for the quick and cheerful service) and I was on my way again “chilling” in my once again cool vehicle.

Among the other departure details I have renewed my visa for another year, upgrading it to an FM2 from the FM3 I have had for the past five years, and had my annual teeth cleaning appointment with Dr. Ramos (Maestro Limpio, April, 2010) at the bargain rate of 500 pesos ($45), during which appointment I also conveniently had my car washed nearby!  

So a week that began with an attempted fishing trip (which became a reminder of a spiritual journey) and included oral and auto maintenance (at bargain Mexican prices) was a fitting example of how the exceptional and commonplace combine for the unique experience that is “Living Loreto”.      

Sunday Market - a visit to the "Mall" Loreto style

As I start to think about my return trip to Canada in a few weeks I have been considering topics for the remaining Blogs and decided to make a return visit this week to the Sunday Market that is held in Loreto.  While I have written about the Market previously (To Market To Market, January ’09) I confess that I have not been there this past winter season.

The reasons for my abstaining from going to the Market are twofold.  First of all, the quality of the produce available at the stores in town has improved over the past years to the point that I can usually find the fruits and vegetables that I want on my regular shopping trips into Loreto without making a special trip to the Market on Sunday mornings.  Secondly, since I have been working in the Dorado Properties Office five (or sometimes six) days a week most of this winter, I look forward to a relaxing day off on Sundays and the lure of fresh vegetables had not been enough, until now, to tempt me out of my weekend routine.

However, no sacrifice is too great for you, my loyal reader, and so this past Sunday I grabbed a quick breakfast and headed to the Market about 9:30.  The location of the Market is on the edge of the Arroyo (dry river bed) that separates the south side of Loreto from the “suburb” of Zaragosa.  It can be reached off Francisco Madero, which runs parallel to the Malacon, south off Salvatierra, but I took a “back road” from the highway that passes north of the Airport land and comes in on the Zaragosa side.

The Market itself is two rows of temporary stalls facing each other across a gravel path that is about 30 feet wide.  The stalls stretch about a hundred yards, with a parking lot along the length of one side.  Scattered among the stalls are about half a dozen vendors that sell a variety of fruits and vegetables along with a few smaller ones that specialize in a couple items like strawberries, or some prepared foods like Tamales.  These vegetable and food stalls are the main attraction for the ex-pat community, as well as many of the locals, for whom a trip to the Market is often a family occasion, much in the same way as a trip to the Mall is for many North Americans.

When I first started shopping at the Market several years ago, I thought that it was going to be more of a “Farmer’s” market with locally grown crops available, but much of the produce available here comes from outside the Baja and as far away as the US, in some cases.  While there are some locally grown products available, they tend to be the staples like tomatoes, onions, oranges and possibly lettuce, a lot of the rest that’s available comes from the mainland and a surprising amount comes out of boxes identified with their US origin. 


As I understand this, it is due in large part to the intensive factory farming practiced here, particularly in the northern Baja, close to markets across the border in the US.  In other Blogs about my drives through some of these market gardening areas, I have described hundreds of acres of fields covered with shade structures where one crop, like tomatoes are grown.  Because this mono-culture of export crops dominates most of the arable land (usually meaning good access to artisanal water) there is not much variety in locally grown produce.

However, this is a great climate for growing citrus, the small flavourful “Key” limes are available almost everywhere and one of my most enjoyable indulgences which is freshly squeezed orange juice every morning.  I may have mentioned in an earlier posting, that after a shortage the previous winter due to a late hurricane, this year I am again able to purchase 20 lb. bags of oranges for about $4.00.  While the price and the flavour are great, these oranges tend to be smaller than what you see in Supermarkets up north and there are often blemishes on the skin that lowers the grade on appearance.  As I understand that is typical of the local produce, the Grade “A” crop is exported at top prices, while the remainder is sold locally at a lower price.

Otherwise, most of the stalls are stocked with an amazing variety of goods, often second hand, including clothing, household goods like small appliances, pots and pans and dishes, shoes, some furniture, automotive accessories and general hardware.  Added to this, there are a couple of busy open air restaurants with plastic tables and chairs, serving breakfast and lunch, including Menudo, a soup with reputedly restorative powers over hangovers.

There are several fish vendors selling frozen shrimp, scallops, lobster, and squid out of stacked coolers and at one table they were shucking fresh clams.  One of the “fixtures” of the Market is the “Goat Guy” who sells both goat meat in the form of a skinned carcass hanging at his side (that he will cut portions from on request) and a table top display of rounds of cheese.  There is also a large booth which is a nursery with an extensive display of potted plants that attracts a lot of interest from gringos and several smaller booths are selling hand-crafted jewellery.  Another jewellery vendor wheels a baby stroller totally covered with an amazing display of beads, ear rings and bracelets of every imaginable description.

On the gravel walkway between these booths there are several other independent vendors moving around within the crowd.  Some push small wheeled coolers packed with a variety of ice treats, clanking small cow bells incessantly to attract attention and often surrounded by children with their heads stuck in the cooler inspecting the inventory.  Another one walks around carrying a 12 ft. pole studded with bagged balls of candy floss on sticks, trailing another enthusiastic crowd of kids behind him.  A common fixture in town, often set up near Banks or other high traffic areas, are the table-topped barrow vendors offering a kaleidoscope of different coloured nuts and candies, each variety separated into impeccable display bags, the contents ready to be weighed out into individual servings.

Some of the most popular booths are full of stacks of second hand clothing which obviously require patience to sort through, and a careful eye to judge size and fit, since there are no changing facilities nearby.  The presence of this clothing makes me wonder where it all comes from, but I expect some of it may find it’s way here from north of the border, where it may have been donated to various charities.  Regardless, here it is, and judging by the crowds it attracts, the price is right!

Shoes are another popular category of product for all ages and types of customers.  Work boots for the many men involved in construction and outdoor work, and by younger, more style conscious teenagers, there are highly coveted running shoes, which one vendor has carefully wrapped each individual shoe in plastic film to protect this prize merchandise from the ever-present dust.  For women, surprisingly delicate high heeled sandals and pumps – surprising, considering the condition of much of the pavement and amount of sand and gravel that one encounters here as a pedestrian.  I was also told recently that the selection of children’s shoes here was far superior than was readily available in many large North American markets, perhaps an indication of the exalted position small children are held in, in this society.  

Speaking of children, one of their most popular booths is the “Toy Store” with a counter-top display of inexpensive brightly coloured plastic toys and treats that have mesmerizing powers over the “captive” audience of youngsters surrounding it.  I also saw a meticulous display of nail polishes and other make-up products in another booth appealing to the young women, across from another booth selling natural source skin care products.  Meanwhile, for the men, there are tables of used tools and hardware that need to be examined carefully (sort of the equivalent of an open-air Home Depot) and on the fashion side for him, there are a number of display racks crowded with dozens of baseball caps bearing every conceivable logo and brand, team and city, almost all of it in English.

As I make my way out of this marketplace I realize how the initial impression of tattered awnings lining a dusty lane has changed.  In fact, this is a very efficient group enterprise that provides almost everything that is necessary for a comfortable lifestyle, by local standards.  And although the first impression, particularly to a foreigner’s eye, is one of shabby chaos, when you delve into what is actually available here, you are hard pressed to find any significant shortcomings for what most of the people here want and need. 


But after all, being pleasantly surprised by the differences between appearance and reality is one of the lessons I have learned, over and over again, while “Living Loreto”.  

Seinfeld, Heat, Politics and The Kiss!

This might well be considered a “Seinfeld” Blog – a posting about nothing.  Well, not actually nothing, but not the usual focus on a specific subject, rather a collection of impression and events from the past week.  This week marks the beginning of the countdown to the end of my current stay here in Loreto.  In a month’s time I will be heading north again to spend the summer back in Canada, so with four weeks to go, I am beginning to think about the shift that is going to come.

In addition to seeing family and friends, one of the main reasons that I return to Canada for the summer is the weather – summers in the Baja are HOT – and as a direct result, there are many fewer ex-pats here during those months, which, of course impacts the business prospects for my selling Real Estate at that time of year.  In fact, that seasonal shift is well underway now, and has been for the past month already.  Although there is still a steady flow of Homeowners and Visitors arriving by air, the number of flights has been recently reduced from seven to four days a week.

Many of the Homeowners who stay here for the winter season have left already, some to file taxes earlier this month, others to comply with six month travel limits, and I regularly meet others who are getting ready to leave.  In fact, “when are you heading back” is a familiar conversation theme when we meet and chat with each other these days. 

Another popular topic for conversation is, like everywhere else, the weather, and it’s been getting hotter here earlier in the season than has been my experience in previous years.  This week, when I was driving my vehicle in the early afternoon, the usually accurate outside thermometer was registering 98 degrees F, or about 35 degrees C, a good 10 degrees warmer than it usually was just a week or two ago.  Now, I do recall that every year about this time the temperature does start to rise, but my Mexican friends, who have much more experience with the changing seasons here, are also commenting that it seems unusually warm for this early in the year.

Why should I be surprised with this sign of unusual weather these days – during a week that we have seen devastating Tornados in record numbers cut a swath through hundreds of miles of the south eastern US – weather all over is changing.  By contrast, back in western Canada they are having an unseasonably cold spring (it snowed again this past week) and the west coast has had record breaking amounts of rain.  Given the extreme weather that seems to becoming the norm elsewhere, this warming trend in the southern Baja is a relatively benign development – so far.

This past week has been unusual because of a number of other events as well.  Although I live a long way from ice and snow, I am still a Hockey fan, particularly at this time of year during the playoffs, even if my “Hometown” Flames failed to make it AGAIN this year.  So I have been watching a number of the first round series, mainly the Vancouver Canucks, who managed to squeeze into the second round this week, after an overtime win in the seventh and final game of their first series.

Added to that, Canada is in the final days of yet another Federal Election, which has gone from what began as a rather sleepy campaign a month ago, to what is developing into a potential sea-change shift of power that could have historic consequences.  Being a bit of a political “junkie”, I have been following these developments closely, monitoring daily news about shifting polls and the speculation about how these quickly developing trends could play out.

While I don’t want to turn this into political Blog, it is worth noting how my perspective is changed by viewing these developments from 4,000 km away.  I find the very real drama unfolding back in Canada to be a refreshing change from the US media’s coverage of the continuous games of political tag that have been dominating the news coming from there.  By comparison, Canada appears to be poised for a major shift in the balance of power between the two traditional governing parties, Conservatives and Liberals, with the further left New Democratic Party moving into a strong second place position for the first time in their 50 year history.

But, rather than seeing this development, which is counter to what my personal position was on the political spectrum, as something that could affect me in my day to day life, viewed from here in Mexico, it takes on the aspect more of political theatre – dare I say, reality television!  While I am interested in the day to day developments and the soon to unfold story (the election is this coming Monday May 2^nd) it is now very much at “arms length”, tempered by the perspective that comes from distance.  What happens in Canada, while it does not necessarily STAY in Canada, has limited impact on events in the rest of the world, which is perhaps unfortunate, given the state of affairs elsewhere!

In addition to Hockey and Politics the other “big” event this week was, of course, the Royal Wedding.  While this was certainly a significant celebration, shared by an estimated 2 Billion viewers worldwide, I was struck by how little impact there was here among Mexicans.  While Canada’s historic ties to Great Britain and the country’s senior position in the Commonwealth guarantees a high profile and level of interest in the marriage of the future King, and therefore our Head of State, there are no such connections or traditions with Great Britain here.

Viewing the pomp and pageantry (which the English Monarchy does better than anyone, anywhere else in the world) from a small peaceful corner of the Baja Peninsula, brings into sharp focus the vast cultural and historic differences between my adopted home here, and where I spent most of my life.  And, in spite of the interest I have in these events half a world away, in the context of where I choose to live now, the high drama that developed about “The Dress” and “The Kiss” seemed even further away than the physical distance.

By comparison, the big event this week here in the Loreto area was “Loretofest” – the annual gathering of “Yachties” who come from all over the Sea of Cortez to converge on Puerto Escondido, the vast natural harbour 20 km south of here.  Dozens of boats, large and small, join the resident “live aboard” community, many of whom make this their year-round home.  We “landlubbers” who live in the area are welcomed to join in on the festivities, last night I enjoyed an open-air concert on the recently refurbished Harbour front, and the weekend has been scheduled with a variety of events and activities including seminars, casual sports, silent auction and communal meals.

 This opportunity to share a little of this transient sub-culture and it’s alternate lifestyle is a strong reminder that there are many versions and opportunities for finding a rewarding way of life here and enjoying the benefits, as well as the limitations of “Living Loreto”.

Semana Sante, San Javier and Olive Oil

Semana Sante, or Holy Week, is the biggest holiday next to Christmas, here in Mexico.  This is one of the few times of the year in this hard working country when almost everyone takes time off to spend with family and friends.  Considering the average work week is five and a half days, with normally only Saturday afternoon and Sunday off, a four or five day weekend is a big deal and, as a result, much of the country shuts down.

Now I certainly don`t work the sort of long hours that are common here, but I decided to take advantage of the slow down and take a day off from the Office on Thursday of this past week.  I had been thinking that it had been over a year since I had taken the drive up to San Javier, and so when some neighbours, who are down for a visit expressed interest in going there the trip was on.

Although I have written about San Javier in the past (The Road to San Javier Mar. `09) there were several reasons I wanted to make a return trip at this time.  First of all, I had heard that there was going to be some sort of “market” there this week and I wanted to check that out.  Secondly, it had been some time since my last trip and I wanted to see what progress there had been on paving the 32 km. road and the electrification project that I had heard about.  So, for those reasons, combined with it being Easter week, this was the time for my overdue return to San Javier.

The Mission Church in San Javier was begun just a few years after the first one was established here in Loreto over 300 years ago.  The Jesuits were looking for better access to water and more arable land than was available here in Loreto.  The Mission building itself was completed in the early to mid 1700`s and is the oldest such building existing in it`s original unrestored condition.  Not incidentally, it is also still in active use for religious services for the surrounding area.

But the destination was only part of the reason for this excursion, the drive itself from the main highway near the town of Loreto, through the desert, into the Sierra del Gigante mountains and beyond, was a big part of the adventure.  Five years ago, my earliest trips to San Javier were over the original unpaved road which was a memorable experience – to say the least!  Then, during the first state election after I started living here, the Governor elect campaigned on the promise of “paving the road to San Javier”.  Three years later during the next election with the road now paved about halfway, the next Governor campaigned on “paving the road to San Javier”.  So, with the imminent arrival of the next Governor, I wanted to see what progress has been made since my last trip.

Paving is a big issue for this road because in early December each year hundreds of pilgrims travel to San Javier from all over the Baja and mainland Mexico to celebrate the Saint`s name day.  Six years ago when I made my first 32 km drive to San Javier the initial quarter was a rough, but adequate gravel road.  The middle half was barely more than 1 lane wide, extremely rough with blind switchbacks as the road twisted through the mountains.  The final quarter remained narrow but was reasonably straight and level as you approached the oasis at San Javier.

A couple of years ago they had managed to pave about half the distance, still short of the most challenging and expensive middle section.  So on this trip, I was excited to see the continuation of the paving to almost 20 km of the way, through most of the section skirting the mountains, just short of where the road straightens out again into San Javier.  Who knows, in one or two more elections the road may indeed be paved all the way!

Paved or not, the road continues to be one of the most breathtaking trips I have taken in the immediate vicinity of Loreto; dipping in and out of oasis valleys, past primitive rancheros through arroyo gullies carved out of solid rock over eons by occasional flash floods caused by infrequent downpours.  But in spite of this exotic terrain, one of the highlights remains the final approach to San Javier which brings you beside a broad shallow riverbed, that even now, 18 months since the last appreciable rainfall, looks bizarrely out of place in the midst of the parched land that surrounds it. 

Water – the reason the Jesuits chose this place over 300 years ago, and in the distance, surrounded by lush green palms, the domed bell tower of the Mission seems to shine as a beacon in these harsh surroundings.  It is also here that the new electrical power line that has paralleled the road in places along the trip, now reaches the destination.  Prior to the completion of this line (at a cost of over a million dollars) this tiny hamlet has only had intermittent power supplied by a small community generator.    

As we enter the main street I am struck by the subtle changes since my last visit, a few new buildings and the overall impression that San Javier has been spruced up with the arrival of power.  There are a couple of new stores and a second restaurant across from the Mission building.  I am also struck by the fact that, while there are perhaps double the “usual” number of visiting vehicles parked around the square in front of the Mission, this was fewer than I had expected during this Holy Week at one of the most significant shrines in this part of the Baja.

Following a respectful visit inside the Mission, where we signed the Guest Book full of entries from near and far and I took a few non-flash pictures, we made our way a couple of hundred yards behind the massive stone walls, through irrigated fields of onions and beans to a natural wonder.  When the missionaries arrived here over 300 years ago one of the first things they did was plant a grove of olive trees some of which still survive with trunks 30 or 40 feet in diameter!

Returning to the small square, we stopped to look at some of the hand-crafts on display and for sale, which apparently comprised the “market” I had heard about and, as we were doing this, we heard about a demonstration of crushing olives for oil that was going to take place across the square.  During the course of this demonstration I was amazed to learn that there were over 300 Olive trees in the groves around the Mission, that were tended by one of the oldest families in the community.  From these trees they harvested 20 tons of olives between September and December, some of which were prepared for eating and the remainder crushed for their oil.

Over the past several years the extended family here in San Javier had slowly relearned the process of producing oil from the olive fruit, largely based on recollections from their youth and Mexican intuition.  I learned that the harvested olives, which appear to be partially dried and withered, are crushed whole (the pit contains oil too).  Then the crushed fruit and pits are packed tightly into a small cast iron press (that was adapted from making adobe bricks) and gradually squeezed under great pressure to produce a dark olive-brown oil – two litres of oil from a packed five gallon bucket of olives and pits.

This oil is then strained slowly through a tightly woven cotton sleeve once or twice until the colour of the remaining oil is a pale yellowish green.  After sampling a little of this freshly squeezed oil I bought a small bottle of it for 80 pesos (about $6.50) and will look forward to enjoying it with a loaf of fresh baked bread!

I also visited a Dulceria, or sweet shop and bought some Papaya preserved in syrup and we found the perfect hat for my neighbours mother Molly – just the thing for the upcoming Royal Wedding?  We then headed back through the desert, retracing our earlier route and enjoying the view back towards the Sea of Cortez.  Just before rejoining the main highway, we stopped for Cheeseburgers at Del Borrachos - a perfect ending to trip.

Reflecting on it afterwards, this drive to San Javier was a good reminder of the progress that has happened over the years that I have been here.  While at times the pace of change has appeared to be slow, sometimes frustratingly so, seeing the beautiful road opening up this isolated community, making it much more accessible to many more people, and bringing with it the electrical power we all take for granted, which will accelerate the rate of change in the future.  Yet part of me misses the experience and adventure of the old road, and I am glad that was the way I saw San Javier first.

Celebrating progress – and missing what it replaces – that is a conflict that I think will become much more frequent for those of us lucky enough to be “Living Loreto”.   

Beach Dogs Open Il Mare!

This week I return to a couple of recent and familiar themes here in Loreto Bay - food and music. A couple of weeks ago I wrote about a restaurant opening at the Golf Clubhouse, since then there has been another opening.

My friend Hector and his wife Natalie, who have two restaurants in town, (La Cava and Bruno’s) have taken over the ocean front dining space at the INN and opened an Italian style Trattatoria called (appropriately enough) “Il Mare”. This has always been one of my favourite spaces at the Hotel – open air, adjacent to the Beach with a natural reed Pergola roof, it makes a beautiful setting for lunches and dinners. (By the way, for casual dining and afternoon bar service, the Snack Bar at the Pool remains open for lunch, but is now closed for evening meal service.)

Hector has had a long relationship with Loreto Bay, previously as Director of Customer Service, and he has lived in our community before moving into town when he opened his restaurants there. He also has some impressive qualifications as a chef as well. In addition to the successful restaurants in town, Hector has been one of the top finalists in each of the past three years of the local Paella competition, which many of you are familiar with from postings I have written here before. (“Paella Cook-off” Nov. ’10, “Big Week” Nov. ’09, “Extraordinary Day” Nov. ’08). So this addition to the dining options, both at the INN and within the surrounding community of Loreto Bay and Nopolo, adds another welcome dimension to our lifestyle here.

Il Mare is open for lunch and dinner, except Mondays, with salads, antipasto, pizza and pasta at lunch, adding steaks, lobster and shrimp in the evenings. Currently they have a limited wine and beer selection, but Hector promises they will be adding a special House wine and Draft beer in the future. After a two week “soft opening”, during which time they have been operating at close to capacity, Hector invited “Los Beach Dogs” (the working name for the Homeowner trio that I featured most recently in “Woodstock with Golf Carts” last month) to play for an opening party at the new restaurant.

Like with most things that happen in this community, word travelled fast and when Rich told me that the music would be starting about 6:30 I anticipated that this would be a popular event so my neighbour Boyd and I arrived at 6:00. Good thing that we did, when we arrived every table had been reserved but fortunately there was one of the two couches still available. Several of the tables were already occupied and the rest filled up quickly with the Guests who had had the good idea of reserving early.

As more people converged, an area of the surrounding INN courtyard became an informal “overflow” and some of the people even arrived carrying folding chairs. When we sat down, Boyd and I ordered a pizza with sausage, artichoke and yellow pepper on a generous base of cheese over a crispy thin crust and a couple of drinks to enjoy while the food was being prepared. Soon after, Los Beach Dogs, who had set up in one corner of the open air dining area, began their first set.

Hector and his staff were kept very busy, having to serve all of the tables and over 50 to 60 people at the same time stretched their resources, plus some of the “overflow” audience ordered their own pizzas “to go” and enjoyed them “al fresco” on the courtyard grass a few yards from the busy tables. But it was a happy crowd and no one was in a hurry.

The combination of music, good food and drink was further complimented by the light show that filled the darkening sky in the background – no “special effect” could equal the dazzling sight of the orange to rosy coloured wisps of high cloud being illuminated by the sun setting behind the Sierra del La Gigante range.

In spite of this stiff competition from Mother Nature, George, Rich and Steve “had” their audience enthusiastic from the first tune and played a well received set of now familiar blues and pop standards, sharing the vocals between all three of them. After a break, where they visited with friends and neighbours at most of the tables, they returned for a second set which featured a special treat. A couple of weeks ago, at the “Woodstock” concert, one of the highlights for me was the debut of a song that Rich had written. I was really moved by the lyrics of “The Road Uncertain” the first time I heard it, and it captured the feelings many of us have shared in the experience of beginning a new life here.

I wanted to include a sample of the song with the earlier Blog, but time and technology conspired against that happening. However, this time your humble Blogger brought his video camera to the concert so that I could record the song for your enjoyment. With apologies for the poor lighting, and with the permission of the composer and performers, please click on this link and enjoy online premiere of The Road Uncertain:

http://personalspace.sony.net/email/share/6c5a47546d474e706147773d?rd=107NmQ0YTUzNTU2ZDMyNDEzZDEwNw==#i0

Nice eh? I confess, I get a little choked up every time I hear it again, and I dare say I’m not the only Homeowner that will react that way!

The evening carried on until “Baja Midnight” (anytime after 9:00 pm!) with more songs as the sunset turned into another star filled night sky and the audience, all of whom were part of this special community, shared in good food and drink accompanied by this entertainment provided by friends and neighbours. In speaking with Hector afterwards, he plans to do theme evenings in the future with more entertainment and special menus – the social life of Loreto Bay is developing!

Hector also told me that when Il Mare gets their phone extension from the INN switchboard he wants to begin a Pizza delivery service within Loreto Bay! Be still my pounding heart! Does this mean there may eventually a use for our Hi-Guys – true progress!

So another Red Letter Day in Loreto Bay – a new Restaurant, with plans for entertainment in one of the prettiest locations in the whole development providing another gathering place for us to share – this winter life just keeps getting better “Living Loreto”!

My thanks to Al Graichen for providing some of the pictures in this Blog (who was that grey haired guy with the pony tail?)

"It's our Beach!"

In the past one of my favourite things to do here is to walk on the Beach at sunrise. Unfortunately, it has been too long since the last time I enjoyed this simple pleasure. I can blame increased activity at work (we have been busier in the past month or so than at any time in the past 2 ½ years) but with the recent time change the sunrise is now an hour later, and the temperatures have jumped almost 10 degrees in the past week, so one morning this week I headed for the Beach about 7:00 am, as soon as I woke up.

The short 250 yard walk from my house brought me to the sea grass “berm” that separates the shoreline from the row of Beachfront homes, and I saw that on this morning there was a very low tide. The sky was already brightening behind Isla Carmen, which forms almost half of our horizon to the east, as the sun has moved almost midway on it’s circuit to the north. Combined with the smaller Ilsa Coronado, further north and more opposite the town of Loreto, these two islands provide a perspective that helps to define the ocean view better than the simple water line in the distance that would be there without them.

To begin my stroll towards Punta Nopolo, the rocky point that marks the southern end of the Beach, I only had a few lazy Pelicans for company, cruising inches above the glassy surface of the water on this calm morning. In the distance I could see a fishing boat offshore, presumably catching some bait before heading out into deeper waters in search of Cabria, Yellow Tail or other game fish.

The Beach sand, exposed at this low tide, was pock-marked with evidence of thousands of clams buried below the surface, their mini-volcano holes filled with sand from the gentle actions of the waves. There were also rolls of greenish brown seaweed scattered in patches along the shore, left behind by the receding water, and marking another seasonal episode of the plant and animal life that comes and goes in a constantly shifting cycle.

As the sun first breaks over the top of the distant Island, my attention is torn between the spectacle of this dazzling event and the opposite view of the golden light striking the rugged mountain peaks directly opposite to the west. Now that the dawn was rising, I could see some activity further down the beach. In the distance I saw a small boat being manoeuvred across the beach and into the gently breaking water on the shore.

Still further down the beach, there were other early risers accompanied by two dogs coming towards me and the boat, being launched between us. As I got closer, I recognized Kaz, a fellow Homeowner preparing his inflatable canoe for launching as he was joined by Bruce and Susan, their daughter Michelle, and their two beautiful black Setters. As I approached, it became apparent that preparations were underway for a fishing expedition, but I soon found out that this was no ordinary day, in fact, it was Michelle’s Birthday – and “her” day was going to begin with a fishing trip with friend and neighbour Kaz.

While the boat was being loaded with tackle and the electric outboard, and Bruce was helping Michelle get settled in the bow seat, Susan headed off for a leisurely jog down the beach, enthusiastically accompanied by her four legged companions. I gather this is a frequent morning ritual for the family, in fact, Susan was explaining to me that their dogs were so well attuned to the routine that they cannot say the word “beach” when they are at home and the dogs are around, without causing them to go into a (well behaved) frenzy of excitement! The vocabulary of these obviously intelligent dogs is such that their Humans have to either spell certain words like this, or substitute the Spanish word, to maintain reasonable order. From what I observed of these two dogs, I would be concerned that it may not be long before even these subterfuges are broken by the canine members of the family!

After the boat was launched into the shallow low tide, there was some delay in getting into deep enough water for the small electric outboard to be fully submerged. So, to offer some assistance, Bruce flipped his paddle board into the water and headed out to join the fisher’s canoe. These paddle boards have begun to become popular here because the often calm, shallow water off our shoreline provide the ideal conditions for using them. A paddle board looks like an oversized surfboard 8 – 10 feet long and a good 3 feet wide, with the upside surface covered in a ribbed mat, to provide secure footing so you can stand and use a long paddle to propel the board smoothly through the water.

I carried on down the beach and saw the fishing boats in the distance fire up their engines and start to pull away, heading north towards Coronado, presumably stocked with bait and full of the high expectations that every fisher begins their day with. Close to shore, the ever present Pelicans alternate their unchanging routine of floating motionlessly in the water, then thrashing awkwardly into the air, and with a few quick beats of their huge wingspan, glide motionlessly mere inches above the water, punctuating their flight with occasional dive bomber plunges into the water, usually emerging with a fishy snack for their efforts.

Upon reaching the end of the Beach in front of the INN, with the sun truly risen again for another day, I turned around to retrace my steps and make my way back home. As I did so, I admired some of the recently finished Beachfront homes and the progress that was being made on the few remaining unfinished properties. In the now full sun, seeing these beautiful homes glisten in the morning air, I appreciate how much closer we are to fulfilling the vision we all shared for this place when there were only chalk lines on the sand.

Now in the distance, I can see Bruce standing straight on his board as he paddles beside the canoe as it is making it`s way on Michelle`s special fishing trip. Further down the beach, I meet Bradley, another Homeowner, walking his dog Shilo along the Beach, stooping occasionally to pick up the odd plastic bag or other trash that has washed up on shore with the receding tide. We greet each other, as Susan jogs past with a broad smile on her return trip, with her canine escorts that seem to be smiling as well.

After greeting Bradley, I acknowledge his clean-up efforts and thank him, to which he replies simply; “It`s our Beach!”, then with a smile and a wave he and Shadow carry on with their early morning ritual. This phrase echoes in my head as I make my way back home to get ready for the day – “It`s our Beach” - yes it is, and a sunrise stroll is probably the best way to enjoy it`s ever-changing beauty and a special time for the spontaneous meetings with friends and neighbours sharing that special time of day.

While I don`t get down to the beach for the sunrise as often as I would like to, whenever I do, I promise myself I will return again sooner, because every time I start my day that way I remember why this is one of the best parts of “Living Loreto”!

Yokohama in Loreto

Regular readers of this Blog may be under the impression that my life in Loreto is one of uninterrupted bliss and tranquility - parties, walks on the beach, dinners with friends . . .


While that is true for much of the time I spend living here, occasionally reality does intrude into this ideal lifestyle, like what happened a couple of weeks ago on the drive back to Loreto from the Airport in Cabo. I was about at the halfway point of the trip, 250 km from home and I had just driven through a small hamlet with “rumble strips” on the highway at each end of town and a “Tope” or speed bump in the middle.

So I was still driving slowly as I was leaving town, rumbling over the exit strips but when I reached the end of the strips my car kept vibrating. Being lost in thought at the time, listening to satellite radio, it took me 10 or 15 seconds to realize what was wrong – I had blown a rear tire. Fortunately, I had not yet started to speed up again and traffic was light on the straight stretch of road I was on.

Unfortunately, Mexico Highway #1 does not have shoulders and by the time that I realized what was wrong with my car, I had to stop - NOW! So, I managed to pull off the road – just – and, because I happened to be in a boulder field at that particular place, I was only able to get about 6” off the pavement before I had to stop. When I got out and looked at my driver’s side rear tire it was completely shredded and wrapped around the wheel – I was going no further.

Changing the tire on a vintage Denali requires the partial disassembly of the rear cargo area to get at the tool kit that is required to crank the spare tire down from it’s storage area underneath the chassis. When I had finally accomplished this, I inspected my spare with some trepidation as I tried to remember when the last time I had used it was – and trying not to wonder whether it still had enough air pressure.

Next I had to position the jack under the axel, using several rocks to establish a solid base and then I had to hunker down on the pavement of the highway and start removing the lug nuts from the wheel. It was about at this point that I realized how lucky I was!

#1. It was still daylight, an hour later I would be doing this in the dark

#2. It was a straight stretch of road and vehicles could see me as they approached from either direction

#3. The oncoming vehicles in the lane I was sitting in, had been slowed down passing through the town I had just left

When I finally had the wheel off the axel, (being interrupted frequently, whenever there was a car or truck approaching in my lane, causing me to retreat from the pavement to the relative safety of the roadside) it was time for the next moment of truth – putting the spare on the car and seeing if it was still sound. So far, so good, - it was a bit soft, mind you, but (dare I say) “good enough for Mexico”! At this point I admit I just threw all the tools and bits and pieces into the back of the car, my pit stop had taken half an hour and I could see I had about an hour of light left – and two and a half hours drive ahead.

Gingerly I steered back on the highway and drove slowly for the first few hundred yards until I was convinced that the spare tire was going to hold – at least for the time being. As I gained confidence in the new tire, I gradually speeded up until I was back up at the regular speed, but I was still unable to relax. It wasn’t just my imagination – it seemed everywhere I looked, on either side of the road, I could see the remains of blown out tires! And now I was travelling on a ten year old spare with no back up tire if it blew out – oh yes, and it was getting dark!

However, the remainder of the trip was blessedly uneventful, even though the last hour was in full dark, and under normal circumstances I avoid highway driving at night, with the exception of the occasional 15 km drive home to Loreto Bay after dinner in town. The main hazard of night driving is stray cattle on the road, a very real threat for potential collisions, as was brought home again recently when a Mexican friend of mine hit a cow on the highway just outside one of the entrances to the development, while he was driving back to Loreto after dark.

The next chapter of this story began the following day, when I set about the challenge of replacing the blown tire. There are several tire shops in town, but none of them carry the Yokohama brand and, since this was a new set of tires six months ago, I did not want to use a mismatched replacement. Here is where fate (or perhaps karma {carma?}) comes in.

As luck would have it, I happened to know a friend of a friend who is in charge of distributing Yokohama tires in Mexico and when I contacted him about my predicament he said that he would check with his Dealers in La Paz and Tijuana to see if they had the required size in stock. No luck, but he then arranged to ship one to the TJ Dealer from his office in southern California. More than a week passed by the time that the tire had cleared customs and arrived at the Dealer, who then had to drop it off at the Bus Depot, as the bus freight service, called Baja Pack, was the best way to ship it from Tijuana to Loreto.

The following week I picked up the well travelled tire at the Bus Depot in Loreto and then went to the Bank and deposited the cash for the tire and freight charges directly into the Dealers account, (cheques and credit cards are not commonly used for such payments here). Finally, I took my new tire to one of the Llanteras, or Tire Shops to have it mounted on the rim and replace the spare.

But wait, there’s more! As soon as they removed the old tire from the rim, they discovered that my new replacement was an “R17” size, not the “R16” size of the original – back to the drawing boards! All the way back to Loreto Bay I was on “tenter hooks” until I could check my email to find out if I had originally ordered the right size or not, and, although it was small consolation, I had ordered it right!

So, I had to begin the whole operation again, with the gracious assistance from my friend in the States who had to ship a replacement in the correct size to the Dealer again, and I in turn, had to return the oversize tire back the 1,000 km to Tijuana by bus. As I write this at the end of last week, the correct tire should be at the Dealer’s any day, following which he will be re-shipping it to me and, hopefully, sometime early next week I will have successfully replaced the tire I blew out over two and a half weeks ago – maybe!

Years ago I remember reading somewhere the somewhat “tongue-in-cheek” comment: “Every definitive statement in Mexico should be followed by the word MAYBE!”; as in, diesel fuel 20 km - maybe, or English spoken here - maybe. Over the years I have come to realize that there is a lot of truth in that rule, and, what would be a straight forward transaction back home in North America, tend to become more complicated here in Mexico.

While waiting over two and a half weeks, and exchanging numerous emails, to have a tire replaced might sound unreasonable by the standards I was once used to. Here in Mexico, even mundane exercises in day-to-day life can take on unanticipated complications and become a “project”, having said that, I for one consider these inconveniences a small price to pay for the many benefits of “Living Loreto”!