It's time for the burqalator

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The Belgium Interior Affairs Committee has put a smackdown on Muslim "religious rights" in this the so-called evil, decadent, infidel West by unanimously declaring: "Wearing the burqa in public is not compatible with an open, liberal, tolerant society."

Read more: A Muckraker Other: Peek-a-boo we need to see you

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(jtru.com)

oooh la la

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I never wonder to see men wicked but I often wonder to see them not ashamed.

Jonathan Swift

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JOURNAL: SEPTEMBER 8, 2009

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el martes, Sept 8

   Stayed up in a village called Seefeld [near Innsbruck]. Quaint and very Bavarian looking with mountains--snow capped, no less--hills, lots of green land, blue skies and men wearing britches and fancy mustaches.

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Racism in Mega grocery (Pto Vallarta)

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Yesterday, after training, I went shopping in Mega supermarket. It's a big chain down here. Clad in gym clothes with an empty Gatorade bottle I strolled from one end of the gigantic store to the other with several ambles through various aisles...but I just couldn't shake them. When I was near the produce section there appeared a security guard; when I was picking out a steak there appeared a security guard; when I went to the dairy section to get butter there, coincidentally, appeared another guard. In fact, it made for a big ass coincidence in this vast, brightly lit mega store. The name is appropriate.

But knowing my money spends just as well as Mexicans' and white people's I complained to one of the managers. In Spanish I said more or less the following:

Even though I am a black man I am not a criminal. Your security guards do not need to follow me all around the store. I see the same two or three guards here and there and here! I'm not blind; and I'm not here to steal. I don't need bodyguards...or shadows...or spies. I don't need them to follow me...it's more than offensive--"Si por supuesto, senor!"--tell them to stop. 

My reason for mentioning I went there straight from training was to show that I wasn't even wearing pockets! The motherfuckers were just racist. I probably, no, I do have more money in my sock drawer than these morons pull in a month yet "I" am "prone" to steal. Because that's what black men do: we steal. Yes, they're ignorant but, after all, isn't that what is racism.

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JOURNAL: SEPTEMBER 7, 2009

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Sept 7 

   As of now, am en route to Innsbruck tomorrow evening.

   Went to see Tarantino's latest, "Inglorious Basterds." It was not the senseless bloodbath I feared (and was led to believe from [critical] ravings like "ultra violet"[sic]) and was immensely action-packed...and to my surprise a blessed alternative ending to history. At times I forget that fiction has no ties or obligations to reality. In fiction the author is god. Period.

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JOURNAL: SEPTEMBER 5, 2009

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el sabado, Sept 5

   Made a final attempt to visit the Freud Museum but could not find anything familiar on the map that might lead me near the spot...What I did achieve this morning was the purchase of a train ticket to Linz. 31.20 euros. Upon returning home and checking email I (finally) got a reply for the ride to Linz. Damn this people and their suck ass attention to communication. The train arrived on time and my friend met me at the station.

   We hung out at Bug's...Discovered a new drink commonly called Radler: beer + limonade.[sic] I like it. Drank two or three.

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The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary. Men alone are capable of every wickedness.

Joseph Conrad

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Another head found in Mexico

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GOOD NEWS: Today, a day after Sec. Clinton and other top U.S. officials visited Mexico City to address the problems of drugs and drug-related violence, Mexican authorities arrested Jose Medina (aka Don Pepe). He's also called the King of Heroin...and at just thirty-six years old the king is now in the dungeon!


BAD NEWS: Someone else lost his head in the drug violence--literally. A decapitated man was lying in a public parking lot in Ciudad Juarez, same city where the three folks associated with the U.S. Consulate were killed several days ago, with his head in a bag nearby.

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JOURNAL: SEPTEMBER 2, 2009

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Sept 2

   Moved into an apt for the remainder of my Vienna trip. It is much nicer than advertised on the site. 

   Finally posted some more entries to the travel web log.

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JOURNAL: SEPTEMBER 1, 2009

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Sept 1

   Very loooong and seemingly flat ride to Vienna. I wished I had packed a lunch. That's what I get for assuming we'd stop to eat. Made a pit stop at a gas station in Czech Republic (or maybe it was Poland?)...I bought a bag of chips for euro1 which was 23 of whatever the native currency. So little to see on the trip. Cottages, fields, electric windmills and commerce trucks. Dozed off twice!

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JOURNAL: AUGUST 31, 2009

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Aug 31

   The Night at the Museums [Lange Nacht der Museen] was spent train hopping than museum hopping but most the the blame falls on me. Wish I could've taken better advantage of the event.

www.lange-nacht-der-museen.de

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JOURNAL: AUGUST 26, 2009

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Aug 26

   Awoke and turned on the television for the first time in weeks. Edward Kennedy passed last night was the news. He said he would see Obama in the White House and he did. 
   Visited the Dali Museum in Potsdamer Platz. It isn't cheap. Eleven euros which comes to about fifteen dollars. But since it's all a private collection the entrance fee is graciously unpublic. I wanted to see Dali's works so I grinned and ponied up the dough. What a fantastically gifted weirdo was Dali!...not that "tormented" slop of Pollock or campy plaigarism of Warhola.... 


Dali - The Exhibition (permanent exhibition)

www.DaliBerlin.de

 

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Have my updated passport!

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At long last I have my fully updated U.S. passport! Went first thing yesterday morning to the Consulate in Nuevo Vallarta (40 min bus ride from Old Vallarta) and picked it up lickety-split. There was no one else waiting in the office...the most painless visit to the State Department I've ever had. Ever.

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JOURNAL: AUGUST 12, 2009

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Aug 12

Finally went to the [Berlin]Olympic Stadium. It is closed to visitors through the end of the month.

   [Train]Ticket inspectors caught me, and with just two stops to go. Damn. I so played ignorant to the hilt and got off without a fine. But she recorded my id info anyway.

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JOURNAL: AUGUST 10, 2009

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Aug 10 

   Had a glass of absinth [sic]. Saw no green lady...Taste sucks but I might give it another go.
   Had a narrow scare with the metro inspectors this morn. With only one stop to go two plainsclothed men announced they were checking tickets...I clumsily flashed the day pass from yesterday mixing it up with my hostel receipt so as to distract the an from peering closer. It worked. Whew! I was so relieved and glad to get off that train without a fine; what a start to the day that would've made.

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JOURNAL: AUGUST 9, 2009

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Aug 9

   Moved into a hostel. Went to the city hall in Schoneberg where [President]Kennedy gave a speech.

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JOURNAL: AUGUST 8, 2009

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Aug 8

   Went to the Kennedy Museum--at last. It is a truly marvelous museum in which the exhibit outshines the building by miles; and is very well lighted.

   I had made up my mind to attend wrestling at four but refused to cut my visit to the museum short so I wound up not going...my mind was preoccupied by my host [being] sore at me for causing him to change his plans with his girlfriend. I understand his gripe but could not shake off the imposition I must pose...Hate to overstay a welcome...and I would not like to have ill parting with my friend.

****

As of this posting all these months later that German friend and I are no longer speaking to one another. Oh well. I sent the man an auld lang syne; so...couldn't give a flying fuck now if we ever make up.  

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JOURNAL: AUGUST 7, 2009

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Aug 7

   Went to the Grunewald Lake or, rather, the lake at the forest of Grunewald...Too many naked bathers for my blood. Germans. Men, mothers, and children all as damn naked as marble pillars...nature freaks. And I thought my bathing suit might've been cutting [it] close. Ha...And with so many little dicks I'm surprised the men didn't cover up; but...guess one's dick isn't tiny when the others are no bigger either.

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Weekend jaunt to Mexico City

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On something of a whim Friday night I caught the midnight bus to D.F. (Distrito Federal aka Mexico City). It was actually the 1am departure but midnight sounds so much better and, anyway, it hardly distorts my story; there's a reason why no songs or poems have been penned with a one o'clock setting: the hour lacks the  je ne sais quoi of intrigue, adventure, romanticism.

It was cheaper and none the longer in duration to stopover and re-connect in Guadalajara versus taking a direct bus so that's what I did. In hindsight it was a good move psychologically, too. Having to switch buses breaks up the monotony of those long journeys which never make rest stops and, irregardless of the available leg room, makes one feel bound up.

I was only in Mexico City for a matter of hours before I figured it was best to go back home instead of spending the night. Although I like the city there was really no good reason to stay there. So I didn't. I was back in Vallarta Sunday morning. All in all, I spent Saturday on the road! 

One of the things I appreciate about D.F. is that I am not a walking zoo. It's bad in Guadalajara but tolerable in Puerto Vallarta and Sayulita. Two Saturdays ago, a friend, also a foreigner, visited me in Vallarta. It was her first visit to the place. Some Mexican vendor shouted to us, The Obama Family! Welcome!

So my friend, a blond girl from Europe, laughs and says to me, What?! I don't look like Michelle. I'm white!

Sometimes the motherfuckers shout that at me and laugh. No offense to the United States President but it's not a compliment and is not meant to be. Their very laughter attests to their cruel intentions. So my friend, a blond girl from Europe, laughs and says to me, What?! I don't look like Michelle. I'm white!

That's a bit of the small racism I encounter here. As soon as Denzel Washington or Will Smith or Michael Jordan or any black male makes another appearance then that's what some of these ignorant peasants----yes, we still have peasants in 2010----will have the gall to shout at me in the streets. Maybe they don't desire to string me up but the presence of malice warrants the charge of racism. Being poor and stupid does not excuse racism.     

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Working-out outdoors

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My gym membership expired this week. Since am considering to hit the old dusty road again in April I haven't bothered to pay for another month. It's an un-fancy, manly hardcore gym. Very bare bones. The owner is diligent about switching off the lights and ceiling fans when no one is training to cut down on the electricity bill. Ditto with water. 


As un-pricey as it is I still think it better to not pay if am not going to use it for at least three weeks. Today was my second day of training in the park. Near the stadium is an outdoor exercise yard not too dissimilar from the ones depicted in jail movies...but without the menacing, sex crazed, musclebound Latinos and black extras. It's a rather nice set-up and totally free to the public along with the running track, skateboard park, soccer fields, basketball courts, etc.

It IS good exercising sans weights (progressive resistance) because I am forced to reacquaint my body with polymetrics, isometrics, and concentrated endurance drills. Plus it's FREE; and also free of that damnable gangsta shit and cheesy '80s music Mexicans love to play in the gym. (Unfortunately, I don't have an iPod or walkman so the crap music really distracts me). 

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Care to Spring Break in Mexico ?

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If you're thinking of tearing it up south of the border this Spring Break, be careful you don't lose your head. Macho drug cartels killed over two dozen people last week in Acapulco plus another three associated with the American Consulate in a city that borders with Texas---in one day! Two weeks before that, thirteen unluckies in Oaxaca were forced out of this world.

Things are fine here in Puerto Vallarta; but if I weren't here already I'd be too sensible to trip down to Mexico with such massive killings making recent headlines.

But if you do come down, Senor Frog's is waiting for you!! 

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MEMORIES. The Berlin Wall: From border to art

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The Deutsches Historisches Museum (German Historical Museum) had an exhibit of wall pieces from the infamous Berlin Wall (1989/2009: Berliner Mauer.) which ran from July 8-August 8 2009. The various wall fragments were parced out to different artists from different countries and most are thought-provoking but all of them, creative.


Germany has the odd hubris of exhibiting its shame; that shame being the Nazi regime and the Holocaust, not, you will be forgiven for assuming, an obsession with trees or recycling. The country's affection for trees and latex fetishism have yet to register a blush. Dozens of memorials and statutes are in existence to counter the overwhelming international association with Adolf Hitler. Face it: one doesn't nearly conquer the world and is easily forgotten.


Back to the museum: the literal "wall" pieces were assembled in a huge circle in the courtyard so that visitors could leisurely take them all in. Slabs of concrete are not light exhibits with which to begin; and there is nothing light about the history of the Wall. The art pieces are symbolic but when those various artifacts were once indivisible stretches of the Berlin Wall symbolism had little to do with its appeal. The winding wall was oppressive, isolating, discouraging, and represented the communist dominance of Eastern Germany and the former Soviet Union. Friends and families were separated for generations and many, many Germans lost their lives trying to escape to the West.

Of the forty art pieces I especially liked Swiss Rolf Knie's execution of the Wall in an electric chair (The Wall sentenced to death)

Frenchmen Gerard Fromanger's iconic silhouette of a soldier guarding the wall (A Concrete Memory)

American Adam Steiner's iron case containing some of the Wall locked inside (Pandora's Box)

and Russian Erik Bulatov's painting of a stop sign interrupted (Nonstop).

click to see all of the works

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Opening of Berlin Wall

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I FINALLY have a digital camera

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I, of all people, have bought a digital camera...at last. I've always avoided buying one yet telling myself I would get one eventually. Well, "eventually" came yesterday. It's a sleek, shiny metallic blue Olympus Fe. Bought it from a pawn shop of which there are many around town so I feel I got it for a song (although, in truth, I didn't. Paid nearly U.S. retail price...but paying in pesos psychologically softened the blow, as it were). That's it. Just wanted to share that bit of newness with you.

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JOURNAL: AUGUST 5, 2009

Aug 5

     

   For the past few times I've gone towards the Brandenburg Gate I've experienced strong desire to return home. Maybe, I told myself, I was hungry or tired...So I would turn around. No sooner than I cleared the congestion my anxious feeling evaporated. Hope this does not mean am inclined towards agoraphobia!

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JOURNAL: AUGUST 6, 2009

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On this day I had just emailed a grappling friend in NYC, complaining about the futility in finding a non-fetish/homo wrestling club. (Germans get into some kinky shit). My friend must have been at his computer for I received a quick reply offering urgent words of encouragement. No sooner than I finished reading his email my search turned up a credible-looking listing. I promptly sent a text query to the advertised number and was thrilled to get a near immediate reply, telling me to show up that evening. 

I then tried ranting about not having a million euros but, wouldn't ya know it, still nothing has come of it:

 

el jueves, Aug 6

   Found a local wrestling club this afternoon on the Internet! They meet Thursdays and Saturdays so I made a point of showing up tonight. Didn't comprehend a word of the training but got along all right; my conditioning is not so out of shape although my reflexes are. Wished I had located them much sooner, but it's my own fault; wish I had made the point of finding a wrestling club upon arrival. I didn't and so I didn't find them...I must admit that I have not used my time here to the best of my abilities. I offer myself no excuse for this lethargy and procrastination.

   Funny thing that: I just, on a whim, bought a couple of old pictures of wrestling yesterday from a used bookstore.

****

Ringen Einsteiger Berlin (website)

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Memories of Europe: the begine

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In recollecting my memories of Europe I turned to a surprising source: me. Almost as a second thought I went to my journal to verify a date and was truly surprised by how well I kept notes on things. Sometimes I frighten myself! I started reading the journal as if it were an explorer's lost travel log found in a flea market. Most of the recollections will be reprinted here just as I recorded them in my journals. 

Sometimes I frighten myself!

Clicking on or searching for Memories of Europe will gather all related entries. Come with me as I retrace my steps across the pond. Bon voyage...vaya con Dios...happy trails....

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The grass is always greener

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Last weekend a long-distance Finnish friend visited me here in Puerto Vallarta. We'd met years ago in Barcelona and had kept in touch via email. She dug Vallarta very much and couldn't help but remark more than once, Why would you want to leave all of this in Mexico and go to Europe?! The Sun! the beach! the palm trees!

This reminded me of a friend from Texas who has been living abroad for a few years now. We've never met but have remained consistent pen pals for close to five years. He digs Europe very much and has more than once wondered, Why would you want to leave Europe and keep going back to Mexico?! Opportunities! France! all the culture is here!

Is the grass not always greener on the other side....
I loooooves my life!

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Freedom T-shirt causes man grief

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A family man wearing a plain T-shirt with the small message "Freedom or Die" on it was asked to change his clothing by security personnel. Said the security officer:


"Some airlines get a bit worried by T-shirts with what you have got on, it might be a bit threatening."

The UK airport has apologized for the "overzealous" gaffe, stating it has no T-shirt slogan policy, but the incident highlights the fickleness of all this high security measure bull and, incidentally, reminds us of the great compromise before us: freedom or death?  

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Coco Before Chanel

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I adore her streak of daring and independence. She thought men dressed more comfortably than women so she adapted----not adopted----menswear to fit her (as opposed to feminist poster boys Fran Lebowitz....

Read more: A Muckraker Other: Coco Before Chanel

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Paid $14 light bill in full

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Yesterday I finally got my electric bill and promptly paid it first thing this morning...all $172pesos of it (roughly fourteen dollars)! I felt relieved at the cost. And going down to the electric company to pay the bill was not the headache I imagined either. True to form, there was a long line stretching out the door but I used the automated teller and was back out the door in three minutes. Whew! It felt grown-up and almost...fun. 

I've lived sans electricity before and last year had my lights cut off because the worker was too lazy to slide the bill under the door so I never received the notice and didn't notice anything wrong until nothing turned on. The landlord was being quite difficult, too, about the matter so all of that coloured my impression of paying utilities in Mexico.


Have been in this apartment since December and this was the first light bill. On top of that I sometimes leave the light on for returns at night and still only warranted $172pesos. Oh the living here is sooooo easy.

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Mexican is 'richest man' in the world

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click on title to read the complete post

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Striking a pose IV (in abstentia)

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I was on the other side of the drawing pad today. I was not scheduled to model and, so, on a lark, decided to test my sketching chops by sitting in to draw. I don't draw any more (used to as a child) and was only equipped with a spiral notebook and ink pens. (Not counting golf, I haven't used a pencil since the second grade...even for math classes I insisted on using ink.)


So there I was trying to draw this female model before us and not, I admit, doing a very good job of it. As a doodle it looks great because doodles are expected to be somewhat funny or quizzical and close-but-no-cigar. Since am no longer an artist I feel no shortcomings from my efforts this evening. The other artists in the group were spot-on. I loved watching them adapt the model's ten-minute pose onto their canvases with such realism. A couple of them even made the subject look better than she actually does.

When she disrobed I soon lost interest in even bothering to draw her

I'd like to say I was distracted by the woman's nudity, which is the truth; but not in the flattering sense. When she disrobed I soon lost interest in even bothering to draw her. In fact, I turned to playing with my cell phone. My body is more refined and my poses are more evocative or engaging for the artist because I think like an artist although I am on the other immobile side of the medium; in short, I judged the female model through the eyes of another model and concluded thus:  I am a more interesting subject than was she tonight. If it were possible I would rather draw me than her. Unfortunately I am a much better model than artist so a sketch of me by me would probably be untruthfully frightful. I admit: I am not a good artist. But, yes, she was not a great model either.

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Flying With Fish clarifies the difference between Customs and Immigrations at the airports.

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Got some things done but, on the whole, I regard it as a rather dull day.


Upon waking, some lines of rhyme came to me and my mind started to arrange them in cadence. A poem was stirring! Naturally, I swung out of bed and began writing them down (carpe diem!). Within twelve minutes my work was complete and I'd written a poem about President Obama. Not a bad start to the morning, I admit. After that I breakfasted with a bowl of cereal and coffee and went to the gym and trained for ninety minutes, and achieved a good pump. Then I returned home at one-fifteen and quickly supplemented with creatine before having a lunch of bacon and rice with a glass of milk. Not a bad midday, I admit.


A hot shower was sorely in order----exercise is nothing without good hygiene----and afterward since I was already wet I figured it was as good a time as any to mop the apartment and clean the kitchen. This worked me up a bit so, before dressing, I made a cup of tea and decided it was as good a time as any to write out a few postcards. With that done, I read a few Internet news articles and, then, finally dressed for the day.

In Mexico there are no self-service coin laundries... and hardly any such thing as customer service

A task I'd meant to satisfy for the past three months was put off no longer. Took my leather shoulder bag to a local shop to have the shoulder strap mended (try saying that seven times fast) and was privately ashamed it required all of ten minutes and only $50pesos. From there I walked to the nearby lavanderia to collect my clothes. In Mexico there are no self-service coin laundries (and hardly any such thing as customer service). In the absence of a home washing machine one must drop off his things to be serviced. At $12pesos x kilo this load cost me seventy pesos. It was now four o'clock and can you believe the woman had no change on hand?...after being open since nine in the morning?! Mexico. (Her laundering and folding skills, though, are very much intact. Some folks can work in a business and some can operate a business but not everyone is cut out for multi-tasking, I know.)


So it was back up the hill to drop off my clothes. I decided it was as good a time as any to put the clothes away so that's what I did. Then at last I headed out for real. It was now five o'clock and I was in need of a drink. A stiff one. I stopped to look at some jeans but the dressing room was occupied and, at any rate, I was thirsty so I kept on trucking. With thirty minutes to go before the close of Happy Hour I made it to the Twisted Palms and ordered my usual poison----and exhaled. Began reading The Chronicles of Narnia----again----as I sipped the martini and couldn't help but eavesdrop on the indiscreet chatter of the ladies at the bar. 
Apparently, one of them had fond memories of her breasts being massaged by Jose or Juarez or one of those typical Mexican names. Not a bad afternoon, I admit.

I was almost restless for another workout but reigned in the anxiety and went straight home----discipline, discipline, discipline----and made dinner: dozen wing dings with fried onions, bolillo (a Mexian roll) and olive oil, and a XX lager and water. For dessert I had a coffee and resumed The Chronicles of Narnia. While I was cooking, the landlord's brother passed by and I paid the month's rent----and duly reminded him that I required my deposit back upon moving out.  So that's out of the way.

Not a bad evening, I admit; But, still, a slow Thursday it was. 

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Black Sheep Lodge & Pub (Guadalajara)

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After staying two nights at a friend's in Zapopan I went straight to the Black Sheep Lodge in Centro. Only I thought I was going to Casa Libertad. Noticed the change as soon as I couldn't make out the reception desk. The place looked like a posh bar/restaurant and, indeed, that's what the first floor is. Apparently it was out with the nice but un-original 'Casa Libertad' and in with hip, edgy British punk decor meets grandmum's knick-knackery. All over is painted in mostly black (duh!) and purple with swatches of kitsch wall stickers here and there. And it's been revamped the Black Sheep. Wicked.

The sleeping quarters are on the second floor and admissible to guests only. Dorm rooms (8 beds) cost $200pesos and include towel, toiletries, "American breakfast" and complimentary beer. Oh behave! The beds come with linen, blanket, thick, comfortable pillow and personal footlocker (padlock included). There is a separate boys and girls dorm plus a private suite. The rooms, like most of the old architecture on that side of town, have high ceilings and stained glass windows with wooden shutters. The lads' dorm even had an open fireplace.

Exactly one block away is the U.S. Consulate building.

I was very impressed with the facilities--free wi-fi, bar, cozy lounge, guest terrace for sunbathing and socializing--and customer service. Owners and staff were tremendously helpful and attentive. Apart from the hostel (lodge) the public pub side of things makes for convenient chilling...and is popular with locals so guests needn't go far for going out. The pub also has a menu of hot dishes. One thing I did find queer was the absence of Johnnie Walker Black Label. The famous whiskey logo is displayed throughout and painted on no less conspicuous a place than the entrance steps yet no bottle of the spirits was anywhere on display. Go figure. 

If ever I have cause to stay overnight in GDL----perish the thought----I am definitely heading back to this spot. This is one cool ass hostel.


Av. Libertad 1872
Col. Americas
+52 33.3825.7079
contacto@theblacksheep.com.mx

website 

 

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I don't like Vallarta Plus bus line

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I travelled to Guadalajara via Primera Plus bus but made the mistake of coming back on Vallarta Plus bus. 

The bus that travels between Guadalajara and Vallarta is fine (the Tequila route uses older models) and, save for the ridiculous straight-to-DVD action movies shown, the trip was all right. The only available seat was next to a chubby fag who wore a sparkly leather wristband. I was not amused. 

A mistake to use Vallarta Plus because they lied about the schedule

It was a mistake to use Vallarta Plus because they lied about the schedule. I had just missed the 18.40 and according to the wall schedule the next bus  wasn't due for another hour. Since I think Primera Plus is slightly better and it was rolling at the same time and both cost the same ($315pesos) I was ready to go over to Primera when the girl informed me a bus was leaving at 19.10. Oh? A twenty minute wait beats an hour so I bought the ticket. 


No bus pulled in or out of the terminal. 

With so many dead grandmothers per household it is no wonder they celebrate the Day of the Dead 

Chunks of minutes passed. The always melodramatic telenovela blared on the omnipresent television. (God, the acting is horrible in this country). More chunks of minutes ticked away. The excuse of "mucho trafico" was offered by way of explaining the bus' tardiness. In Mexico it's always either traffic, a sick mother, or a dead grandmother. With so many dead grandmothers per household it is no wonder, then, they celebrate the Day of the Dead (Dia de los Muertos). When our bus driver finally arrived it was  -- surprise, surprise -- 19.40. Exactly 19.40.

Coincidence, my ass. They sold tickets for a seven-ten departure knowing full well no line was going out until seven-forty, and knew to feed that bullshit line about heavy traffic knowing we can't call the bluff; but it is a beautiful coincidence that the bus rolls into the terminal at precisely the time indicated on the wall schedule and the web page. Fool me once....

 

my bus preference

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Return from Guadalajara

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Spent a five-day weekend in Guadalajara (GDL) and returned on Vallarta Plus last night at midnight. I like GDL in the least but it was great to catch up with a few old friends, which is why I went at all. Hope they soaked it up because am not planning on returning anytime soon.

During my visit I was bothered by teeny-boppers to pose for snapshots, stayed at the newly opened Black Sheep Lodge, ate rose petal flavored ice cream and coconut pastries, had a steam and massage, bought a copper bracelet, imbibed many martinis at Chai, and, at long last, toured Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum of curiosities.

Most curious of all was that not much has changed: Same beggars----no, seriously, the very same vagabonds from eight years ago----are still schlepping and begging...and in the very same spots. Dios mio! I mean, get a positive mindset and go make a goddamn life already! The buses still lurch to a halt but zoom otherwise; skateboarders congregate in Parque Revolucion; clueless girls continue to be employed as cashiers, and (closeted) homos cruise the magazine stands in Sanborns. Of the changes I did notice the AM/PM gas station mini marts are now 7-11s and the city  has an express bus service similar to Mexico City's. And there are far more Chinese buffets than necessary.

As shared on a previous post I am fond of coconut. In fact, I bought a baby coconut just this evening. Anywho, no panaderias in Vallarta make coconut muffins like the Danes bakery in GDL so I brought a couple back for tasty souvenirs! As for the rose petal ice cream, the confection is made from actual rose petals and, hot damn, tastes just like a silken flower; and it's pink, too. You can find the family run ice cream shop (nieveria) at the corner of Av. Alcalde and Manuel Acuna, one block from the federal immigration building. 

Since patronizing the Twisted Palms I've developed a palate for martinis which led me to the two Chai restaurants in town to take advantage of the $29pesos martini specials. They were made with vodka, Oso Negro no doubt, but at twenty-nine pesitos I drank 'em down and dared not complain. Exxxcellent. 


The Ripley museum was worth the admission. When I came to GDL years ago admission was $25pesos. Now it costs $50pesos. But am glad I went; stared at every artifact and read nearly every exhibit. But most of all am glad to be out of Guadalajara and back home.

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