La Reyna de Masaje de la Playa la Ropa

Or...the queen of massage on La Ropa beach.....or....something like that.  Few things are more enjoyable than a good firm massage.  Nothing is more enjoyable than a good firm massage in a beach tent with the breeze blowing for less than 20 bucks for an hour and half.   La Ropa must be the mothership for massage in the state of Guerro.  Every few yards seems to be a massage tent.  The rubbistas.  (my new word) are more aggressive than five mothers with girl scout cookies.  I mean ferocious.  Cards in hand they ID you before you hit the sand and lay in wait for you to get within striking distance.   After being robbed the first day at the hotel, it was apparent that there was some consumer advantage by shopping around.   The informed consumer I had become finally paid off in finding Mariel.  After some hand to hand combat to get into her tent, I was completely impressed.  In fact it got to the point that the two competing rubbista tents were actually trying to out do each other.  Really.....a consumer paradise.  So, if you come to Zihuatenajo any time soon.  go to the South end of La Ropa and find the tent.  Ask for Mariel.  Her semi sadistic blood letting leg massage will make you glad you did.  The gallon of oil she bastes you in is included.  Vaya con Dios mis amigos.  

Paradise

Early morning on La Ropa beach can provide some interesting entertainment.  Foot prints in the sand leading you to somewhere then fading to nothing in the foaming surf.  Where were they leading you? No one knows... maybe to a local Stevie Nicks convention or perhaps to Mary's restaurant in a narrow alleyway to sit with Mario.  A local mobster with a few years of prison in the U.S.  " I run from probation officer this since 3 years, you tink dat is enuf".  A few years in a Portland prison and a few in Pecos, Texas.  Mario likes to drink and sometimes drive among other things.  Not a bad guy but one that you wouldn't want to cross.  So, maybe the Marinas are looking for Mario or maybe a cartel guy next door.  The coast does seem to be on alert.  There are few rules here.  but some should be universal the world over.  

The Fish Market and the Chair

The old town of Zihua is sort of a cross between a movie set and ghost town.  It is very low season here and there is not much happening.  Most things are open but everything has slowed down due to the weather and heat.  The fisherman were out early and selling their wares at the impromptu market at the  beach.  The big stuff seems to have gone early with the restaurants jumping in quickly.  The rest was slowly sold to the locals looking for a fresh but small meal.  As I was strolling I did come across one of the most heinous inventions ever made.   They called it a chair but in reality it was nothing more than a torture device.  Made of rebar and plastic rubber bands.  The hole looking thing in the middle is all rebar.  I imagine the circle is designed for some sort of blood letting.  Truly, I  have never sat in anything as awful as this thing.   I made the mistake of sitting in this thing only to find that it was impossible to get out even thought rebar was impaling you.  The base was so unstable that it would not allow you to pull yourself up.  No way.  So move over water boarding.  There is a new sheriff in town.

A Matter of Movement

Today was the day of movement.  A trip from Patzcuaro to Zihua on the coast.  Those who know me understand that I don't like to rush anywhere.  No OJ running, no jumping into taxis, no begging to get on a bus or a plane.  So, you can imagine my mild concern when at breakfast I glanced at the bus ticket I had so proudly bought the day at the bus station itself.  Somehow the smiling lady behind the counter just assumed that my first class ticket from Moreila to Zihua was enough.  And yes those of you with a globe will realize that Moreilia is about an hour from Patz,.  Mild panic and extreme frustration set in immediately at my lack of "seasoning" for not looking at the bus ticket   With all that griping me I ran into a 2 kilometer line of 9 years olds taking up the sidewalk as I was hustling to get back to try to make the Moreila connection.  Hundreds of kid, girls and boys all the same age and dressed the same.  Shit.  What just happened to me....?  

Yes, the connection was made and my ride  was a super fine Autovias bus.  I mean it rivaled any first class upgrade without the wine.  TV, games, foot boards, AC, and wide enough seats for a gringo hombre.  The good life.  Anyone who as ever traveled on the Primero Classe bus in Mexico knows what I am talking about.  Lux all the way.  My favorite feature was the his and hers banos.  Yes ladies no more sharing.  One of your own.  It looked like it came out of the Space X waiting room.  All was perfect until it was time to leave the private comforts of the bano.  The most intimidating feature of the WC was the enormous red light and it's mysterious button.  Believe me, nothing was obvious.  As I was being battered down the road,  I realized that I had no idea how to flush this space age beast.  Wast it the red light?  Maybe...or was the red light the emergency stop for the bus?  or even worst as I saw in India?  A faded red lever that opened up the bottom of the train to allow drainage or doubled as an emergency escape hatch in the event of an unfortunate train mishap.   Fact of the matter was it was hot as hell in there and I was worried that some passenger in need would be waiting outside wondering what the gringo found so amusing about the bus toilet.  Yes, I pushed it.  And no the bus didn't stop or I wasn't ejected through the floor.  Remember....there is nothing to fear but fear itself.  Just make sure you hold onto the door handle before you take the plunge.  Coastal exploration is on the agenda.  

Portofino in Patzcuaro

It's always an adventure to wander around a new place and find cuisine that has little or nothing to do with the culture you are in.  Maybe it's Chinese in Guatemala or Mexican food in Hanoi.  It's usually got a little different twist.  Tonight it was Italian in Patzcuaro brought to you by Alejandro.  Owner, chef, waiter, bartender, and dishwasher.  The food was awesome and if anyone every heads this direction I would completely recommend it.  Just a 100 yards off the main plaza on the Southeastern corner.  It was a fitting ending to a day that saw the plaza closed all morning for teacher protests.  The same one's that ended in violence a couple of days ago in Guerrero state next door.  Three dead in that one.  Tomorrow is the Pacific Coast and some hotter weather. 

Two way Street

Two things always seem to come to mind in the street life of different places in the world.  The resilience and creativity of people and the hard and often times inspirational  struggle of street life in general.  Last night I was privaledged  to watch a street food hawker making and selling individual hand made pizzas.  He created this amazing "rig" that had a three wheeled motor bike, a serving and condiment area, an internal pizza oven, all sorts of awnings and covers to protect him from the rain and great looking pizza.  All done by himself for the most part and then he folds up and drives away to who knows where.  Amazing.  Then there is Pablo the street dog.  Yes, a dog.  I have watched this dog work the street over the last few days and I am humbled at his considerable skills.  Tonight he did his sad eye thing and managed a few bits of meat from my "Tacos Arrierios".  Yes, stop and breath.  I give the dog some food.  I watched him go from tail wagging to sad eyes, to back to close contact petting and then run off when he saw a group of girls he knew.  Hoping for a better deal.... Asshole.  So...I know its the street, right.  Hurt feelings aside.  He came back did his thing and then was gone.  You have to continue the hustle when you live on the street.  2000 Singapore.... I know a brother when I see one.  So....here is a raised glass to all the women and men working hard tonight.  And to the everyone who as ever been the privileged traveler.  Never be rude...never look down...never ever lose respect.... mañana ....

Dance Fever Patzcuaro Style

Mid morning rain slowed the plaza down this morning in Patzcuaro.  At about noon the clouds parted and the celebration began.  By celebration I mean just a Sunday afternoon in the Western Highlands of Mexico.  Families, friends, lovers, and a few curious gringos out enjoying a stroll with everyone else.  These traditional dancers were amazing.  The young members had a little trouble keeping up but still a great show.   A slower more focused pace of life as I have said before.  Something worth thinking about.  After the show I spent some time on the balcony listening to the steady booms in the background.  Fireworks I guess but you in the land of "La Familia" the meanest drug cartel in Mexico, you do listen to the noise.   It's funny I'm just starting to feel the place.  Takes about a week I guess.   Viva Patzcuaro.