Happy Christmas

The Second Oncologist Appointment

The mass is gone from her chest! Dr. Macy couldn't have been more pleased during her appointment yesterday. He did a second infusion of chemo drugs and she'll be completely off the steroids. Her liver enzymes were a bit elevated, but aside from that and the cancer, she's in good health!

Lucy Swallowed a Rottweiler

Either that or the drugs have turned her into a big dog. She's eating 3 times as much as normal, acts like we haven't fed her in weeks and drinks a ton of water. Of course all of this means that she's also peeing and pooping like a big dog. Like a big dog with a teeney tiny bladder. A teeny tiny uncontrollable bladder. We took her off the Mirtazapine (aka Puppy Pot) to see if that helped at all. It didn't. We've cut her Prednisone dosage in half and will see if that makes a difference.

The good news is that her breathing is back to normal and she has moments when you can't even tell she's sick. We have to get the bladder under control. Either that or buy stock in Nature's Miracle.

This makes me smile.



And then I cry.

The First Oncologist Appointment

We saw Dr. Macy, Lucy's oncologist on Sunday. He was so great. He sat on the floor with us. He walked us through Lucy's labs, answered all our questions, used humor when it was possible and was basically a real person. He acknowledged what we were feeling, but didn't play down the severity of her cancer. She's young (only 4), otherwise healthy and because of that, we are going to treat her. Who am I kidding? She could be 12 and we'd still treat her. We'd do whatever it takes to keep her alive.

She received her first IV chemotherapy infusion (a cocktail of drugs) has a number of pills to take throughout the day and we'll just hope she responds. The prognosis isn't great. 85% of treated dogs with lymphoma last for a year. She looks like hell. Both sides of her chest are shaved. She has a big bandage on her back leg. Her breathing is better, but she's still pretty lethargic.

Lucy is sick. She was having trouble breathing on Sunday and Monday. We thought it was just the dry weather, but it wasn't getting better. I had to be is LA this week, so Scott took her to see the vet on Tuesday. They took an x-ray, found her chest cavity filled with fluid, tapped her chest to remove some of the fluid. It helped and her breathing was a little better. The fluid was sent out for testing. Scott got the results on Wednesday and told me yesterday. She has cancer. Lymphoma. We see an oncologist on Sunday. It's devastating news.

November 4th

It's Election Day and all I am going to say is that it's a very exciting time.

I started these sometime in Mexico and finished in Texas. They were for Dot who likes color and random patterns. Berrocco sock yarn is perfect for that. I don't really do color work, but this makes me look like a much better knitter than I really am.

Working. What?

We didn't plan for me to go back to work, but it just sort of happened. I'm contracting with my former employer to get them through while a couple of people are out on leave. My engagement runs through November. I work from home most of the time, charge by the hour and it's good.

The Short Version

We finally left Oregon. Packed up the car, hit the coast and drove South. We spent a few days in Florence at Harbor Vista Campground. Yes, we tent camped. And I survived. It has been forever since I've been to the Oregon Coast and we got lucky. The weather was surprising for the Oregon coast - sunny and warmish.

Lucy was such a camper and even managed to settle in and relax while we did things around the camp site.

It helped, though, that we exhausted her on the beach! It was fun to see her run around, chase sticks (chase, not retrieve) and steer way clear of the waves.
From there we drove down to Harris Beach State Park just North of Banning, Oregon and the California border. I loved it here. The beach was rocky. Bleached out drift wood washed ashore. The campground was good too. The showers were free (as in no quarters and 5 minute limit) and private with lots of hot water.

The next morning was damp and foggy so we packed up early and hit the road. We drove through the Redwood Forest and didn't see any moose. We did see trees. And what can you say about the Redwoods? They're big and old. Wait, I'm supposed to use words like grand and majestic. So, sure, they are those things too, but I'm not exactly a nature girl, so let's just call them big.

From the redwoods, we drove through the Lost Coast in search of a campground. It's getting to be the end of the season and a number of places are closed. We ended up at Richardson Grove State Park. It's nothing fancy. It's actually kind of gross this time of year and sort of had a seedy feel to it. We just stayed the night and left early the next morning - around 10.

After RG, we had the joy of cruising over to the 1 on the curviest road ever. I may not have mentioned this before, but in additional to getting sea sick, I can get car sick. The front seat is usually a safe spot. Not so much for this trip. Not fun. Oh, and creepy homesteads - yes, homesteads - line sections of the highway. Who lives in these random, run down, totally isolated shacks? I can't even think about it.

Anyway, we arrived in Fort Bragg and MacKerricher State Park pretty early and selected a nice camp spot (number 101) close to the ocean. It's beautiful here. Rocky coast line with sea lions and kelp beds. Dogs aren't allowed on the beach, but there is a good trail just above the sand line.

I could stay here for days, but we ran into a little trouble that night. The camp stove stopped working while I was making Sloppy Joe's. Don't cringe. We're camping. It's a requirement to eat things like that. I even packed a can of Spam just in case. I was able to finish dinner on the BBQ, but we couldn't get the coffee to boil the next morning. We also both woke up with colds and basically decided we were way over the tent. So we crammed everything into the car and after a quick shower, took off towards the 5. I was thinking we'd stop over for a night in a Holiday Inn Express or something. Wrong. Scott drove 12 hours back to Palm Springs. He was just in the zone and although we did stop for lunch, dinner and a couple potty breaks for Lucy, it was straight through. I was not in the zone. After about 5 hours with a 15 lb dog on my lap, my hips and thighs were killing me. But we made it back and even though we did practically nothing yesterday, I'm looking forward to getting our condo unpacked and settled in. We're on a bit of a deadline and I have a lot to do in the next few days. I'm sort of going back to work next week...

Just back from 5 days at Crater Lake National Forest in the BAM (big ass motorhome). It's seriously my kind of camping, aside from the dirt. It was that super fine stuff that just sticks to everything. Lucy was filthy, but had a great time. Especially riding around the lake in the Jeep.



And getting out to get a better look.



The water really is that blue.

And while the Mr and the MIL took a little boat trip out to Wizard Island, I did what I like to do best.














Almost forgot, we celebrated the Mr's birthday at my Catholic school in Bend. McMenamins bought the property and turned it into a hotel, restaurant, bar and movie theater. Great use of Catholic school if you ask me.

That Was Weird

Kate had a home volleyball game last night. We went. She played well, had some good hits. That wasn't weird. What was weird was that so much was the same. Lockers, the gym, the people watching. Same people or at least same clans. Saw a couple of girls from my class. The same. Consensus was that I hadn't changed much. And there was talk of a 20 year reunion next summer. 20 years. Can you imagine?

We're off to the ILs later today. I think we might go camping. Not to worry. I'll be fine. They don't exactly rough it...

Car Shopping

Is not very much fun when you have a very little budget, are not at the luxury dealers and are not going to get to have leather, a sun roof, and lots of buttons to push.

English - sort of

We took the super delux overnight ADO Uno bus from Veracruz to Matamores on the 19th. We were boarded and had our passports inspected twice by immigration and the Federales. We watched a horrible Dolph Lundgren movie, Direct Action, in English with Spanish subtitles. Then an episode of the single greatest television series in the history of television series, Meerkat Manor. It was in Spanish and a little hard to follow, but Shakespeare was alive and Flower was still in charge. (I know what you're thinking, but the Meerkat's made Entertainment Magazine's 10 Shows You Should Be Watching list last summer. You should be watching. At a minimum, it should be on our DVR for those Sunday afternoon lounge fests.) Crossing the boarder was a little hairy. The Mr had trouble answering the US Border Agent's questions correctly, which was actually kind of funny to watch until it looked like we might be in a little trouble for trying to bring Cipro across. While the Mr was looking for the bathroom to dump it, the Agent asked me if he was sleep deprived...um, yeah, 17 hour bus ride. Anyway, it all basically worked out and we were able to walk across the bridge, enter the US and meet Capt Jim and the SM. Brownsville, Texas is a good place to gradually adjust to being back in the states. It's a lot like Mexico. Mexas. Or Texico. Lots of Spanish going on. It's hot and sticky and generally not a pretty place. We crashed after breakfast.

After all this time traveling, I was in serious need of some grooming. I overpaid for a not so great mani / pedi on Friday. After months without polish, my toes look funny with pale pink on them. And on Saturday, the SM and I got up early, left Port Isabel at 8:30 to get to a 10am hair appointment in McAllen. Yes, I was nervous. I have curly hair and have had countless bad haircuts from stylists who don't know how to cut curly hair. Plus, I needed color and just had a bad feeling as we walked into the super 1980s salon (as in wall of mirrors) off the garage of her home. Normally, I would have turned around and left without a single word (especially after getting a look at the duct tape on the hairdryer), but shaggy brassy mop isn't exactly a great look. And it all worked out basically fine. The cut is pretty good - or at least I think it will be after the 5 day curl recovery period. The color is dark. I guess I wasn't specific enough when I asked for chocolate. It's definitelydark chocolate rather than milk chocolate. Honest mistake that could happen to anyone.

Saturday, we went fishing in the bay. With live shrimp. I know - me fishing! Who am I? I caught a 2 foot lady fish, which is a fighter, but not good eating, so we put it back. The Mr caught 2 crabs. They were covered in eggs, so we put those back too.

And I'm back in the knitting groove. You can get a lot done on a bus while you're trying to not watch Dolph.

We fly to Oregon on Wednesday. I can not wait to see the puppy!

Veracruz

I wasn't going to write today. In fact, I should be showering and packing up our stuff while the Mr is out for a walk on the smelly beach, but I'm procrastinating.

Yesterday, about two hours into the bus ride, we were stopped by the Mexican Army. I think maybe I was sleeping before the stop because it seemed like all of a sudden, a guy in uniform was walking down the aisle, explaining that this was a military check point and that they were going to do something with the equipaje (luggage). We've been boarded before and nothing happened, but this time passengers were getting off the bus, so we did too. We had to locate our bags and stand by while the army went through them. They were very polite and aside from the massive assault rifles strapped to their backs, it was all very civilized. I did get a little nervous when he found our bag of coffee, but he wasn't bothered since they were the whole beans.

I'm always fascinated by the other passengers on the bus. This trip, it was all locals except us and an Italian man traveling alone. I love the Italians. So colorful. If they're not jonesing for a cigarette, pushing other passengers out of the way to get off the bus, they're chatting loudly or completely knocked out. This guy read his Lonely Planet Messico guide book for about 10 minutes, then stretched out and slept the rest of the way. He was super tall, had the wing span of a condor and looked even more uncomfortable than I was. He was wearing red jeans pants, a neon green t-shirt, a navy blue long sleeve t-shirt and yellow shoes. Truly a fiesta for the eyes.

Veracruz is exactly as expected - not a place you would want to stay for very long. Our hotel is fine - typical sterile high-rise hotel - the bed is comfortable and the AC works well. Too well. We had to leave a 200 peso deposit for the tv remote. There is a pool, but it's murky and makes you wonder what kind of chemicals they use. Or what happened in the pool just before we arrived. We didn't stay in very long. Dinner last night was not so great. Lonely Planet was totally off. We slept well and are just waiting around for the next bus. We'll arrive in Matamores early tomorrow morning, will take a taxi to the border, walk across and get picked up by Capt Jim. Of course, he's not so great with the details and our meeting spot is a little loose. I asked about meeting at a restaurant on the state side. We'll be looking for you is what he said...So we'll see how that works out.

No photos today. Veracruz just isn't worth it.

Monos

We've extended our stay in Oaxaca one more night. We've just had our communal breakfast (always a joy) and are enjoying a cup of coffee on the rooftop terrace at the hotel.

The Mr was up here the other night and reported seeing a parade and monkeys. I thought he meant monkeys in the parade and didn't believe him when he said they were on the roof. But they are. After asking for restaurant recommendations, one of the hotel guys confirmed that the neighbor has two pet monkeys in a cage in the corner of her terrace. Jose and Peter. She also has a big dog. I don't know what his name is. The monkeys have hammocks. It's funny. You have to look really closely, but they're in there. We're also thinking we need a zoom lense for the camera.

I'm not sure why, but white suits have been on my mind. Not dinner jackets or monkey suits, but actual suits. White pants and jacket. I haven't been able to decide if they're better on a man or a woman. And do you have to be super tan to pull it off? You certainly have to be careful with your undergarments.

We leave Oaxaca tomorrow. 8:30am bus to Veracruz. Slumming it on the regular ADO line. The GL left later in the early evening and got us to Veracruz in the middle of the night. From what I understand, Veracruz is not a place you would want to arrive at in the middle of the night. The Mr has booked us a nice hotel on the harbor and we'll tuck in until our bus leaves for Matamores on Tuesday.

Great Night

Tonight we happened upon a rooftop bar serving tapas. It was finally the right temperature for jeans, my Robert Roller Rabit tunic, and my metallic Bernardos. We ate tapas (not so good), drank margaritas (the Mr) and sangria (me) with Coldplay and The Verve playing on the stereo and a lovely view of Santo Domingo Cathedral in the setting sun. We finished up at Las Ollas for chocolate cake, hot chocolate and tequilla. It was a great night.

Oaxaca

The overnight bus to Oaxaca was, thankfully, uneventful. Overnight is the way to go. I knit until about 11, took 1/2 an Ambian and hardly noticed the two times we were boarded by Mexican immigration officers. We arrived Oaxaca just after 8am, took a taxi to Casa de las Bugambilias and was able to have breakfast, family style. All Americans at the table. And of course, there is always one person who takes over the table. This time it was a woman from San Francisco, fluent in Spanish, 5th trip to Oaxaca, was recently on an archeological dig in Peru, said things like "in mesoamerica" and is traveling with her "friend" Diane. Not that I was listening.









Our room wasn't going to be ready until 1, so we sleep walked around the city, found the Anador walk street with shops, restaurants, galleries and museums. Lots of old churches and colonial buildings. We're pretty immune to old buildings at this point, but we did our share of sight seeing. Oaxaca has a bit of a cosmopolitan feel to it and I suspect the Mr and I will be horribly underdressed.









We were a little disappointed once we got into our room, Camelias. Silly me thinking there would be more to it than what's is the online photo. It's basically the step-child of the hotel - small, tucked over the kitchen with a seperate entrance, no AC or balcony. But it was the cheapest and that's why we booked it. The bed is Mexican (And what is it with matresses in Mexico? Why is it so difficult to find a decent matress? One that isn't cement, or doesn't have springs digging into you? And don't even get me started on the pancake pillows.) but the sheets are soft, the towels are thick and there is a hair dryer. A hair dyer! Fancy. I think I'll give myself a little facial tonight.

Back to SC

Our tourist van was scheduled to leave Antigua at 4:30am. I knew it was going to be a rough day. I just didn't know how horrible it was going to be. We were up at 2:30 because I forgot about the time change when I was setting the alarm on the cell phone. The van picked us up at 4:15. We were the first passengers and I was able to convince the driver to let me sit in the front because I can get "enferma de coche". Not exactly the right way to say car sick, but he got the idea. And maybe I shouldn't have said anything because that's exactly what I was less than two hours into the trip. I have no idea why I've hung on to two of Lucy's poop bags, but was so grateful to have them because tourist buses only make scheduled stops and they're not all that often.

There was a group of Spaniards on the van with us. I love that Spanish lisp, saying grathias instead of gracias. The Mr's teacher said that some people in Central America talk with the lisp, but that it's considered an affectation. Kind of like Madonna's accent.

We made it to Sol y Luna just as it was starting to rain. Cisco gave us the tour and got us settled in. The whole place is very eclectic - art and stuff on every wall. Our room has a chimenea in the corner and robes hinging in the closet. Good thing the Mr was a boy scout. His fires have been really good. It's still the rainy season in Central America. The dampness just goes right through me, but the fires have really help. Plus, when you can find a sunny spot...



Cisco was a film photographer in Los Angeles, has been in San Cristobal for over 14 years and is a bit of a hippy with an amazing collection of rare and otherwise illegal orchids. Apparently, when he started collecting the illegal species, he had a friend in the government who smoothed his way and he's now working with an NGO to create an orchid museum in San Cristobal. Cisco was very kind to me while I wasn't feeling well. He made me tea from his peppermint plant. And got me a bucket. He has two cats that hang around the house. They're brothers. I can't remember their names, but they're Spanish and start with L. Lola and Lolita? No. They're boys. Anyway, keep in mind that I'm not really a cat person, but aside from the cat hair on some of the chairs, I liked these cats. Cisco's a great host, puts out a really satisflying breakfast and if you're ever in San Cristobal, you must stay with him. He also has music playing throughout the day. I can't remember the last time I listened to Deep Purple, but it was exactly right on today.



I've given up on my yarn search. I'm convinced you can't buy yarn in Central America. At least, not where we've been. I have, however, been knitting a bit more. Maybe it's the cold. I'm making some progress on the Guatemalan girl socks. That's how I'm thinking of the colors, Guatemalan.









Notice my sleeve. 28Thirty is getting serious usage on this trip. It takes up a ton of space and every time I'm packing, I curse the damn thing, but once the temp drops, I'm so glad I have it. Who would have thought?

Patron Saint of Drinkers and Smokers

Here's a patron saint I can get into. Maximom. He receives offerings of candles, cigars and booze and is said to offer healing to worshippers.

Lana

The woman who owns the book store told me that I would find yarn at the market. She said to ask for: lana que hace sweter. I confirmed that with Yoda and practiced saying it over and over. All week, I'd been waiting for the day we'd hit the market, dreaming about the baskets and baskets of richly dyed, super soft alpaca and wool. I was prepared. Nothing was going to stop me from finding yarn. I've looked in every place we've been. I've seen beautiful hand made garmets. There has to be yarn in Central America. Even the Mr had agreed to spend as much time as necessary looking for yarn. Finally, it was Sunday, our last day in Antigua and we'd set aside the whole afternoon for the market. We found clothing (Aberkrombie, Kalvin Klein, Tomas Hilfiger), housewears, mini-grocery stores, toys, shoes and just a lot of crap.

What I wasn't prepared for was the market itself. It was just too much. Too many people cramped into tiny lanes. Too many stalls to visit. Too many smells. And way too close to the meat stalls - row after row of unrefrigerated hanging slabs of cow carcass. Mix in a whole lot of bleach and you've got instant upset stomach. I lasted all of about 15 minutes. In that time, I did get to use my phrase and was given directions to a couple of different stalls that were supposed to have lana que hace sweter. All they had was acrylic or embroidery floss. We left, went for a leisurely lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon reading, drinking beer and getting ready for the trip back to San Cristobal.

The Mr couldn't have been happier.

Piracy?

Last night we went to the movies. Sort of the movies. It was movie theater like - tiered seating, old theater chairs - but with tables and a menu and waiters. They were playing what we thought were 2nd or 3rd run movies. Turns out it was a Spanish DVD of La Misma Luna. They don't charge for the movie, just the food and drink. That's not exactly piracy; right? And probably not nearly as illegal as the DVDs of the Sex and The City Movie for sale on the streets of Antigua? I was tempted, but resisted.

La Antigua, Guatemala

As the name suggests, this city is old. Like 1500s old. It used to be the capital of Guatemala until a couple of earthquakes hit. After the second or third, they changed it to Guatemala City, which is less than 30 miles away, so I don't fully understand the logic. Anyway, when the moved they just left the ruins so the city is full of partially crumbly buildings, mostly churches, cathedrals and convents. There are so many that after awhile, we're like oh, hey, look, another crumbly old building and we keep walking.



The streets are uneven cobblestone. Cars, motorcycles, tuk tuks and buses bounce down super narrow streets. When it rains, the streets fill up with muddy water and you have to be careful to not get splashed. The city buses are old school buses, fantastically colored with the guy that collects the money hanging out the door yelling the route. Guate. Guate. Guate. To Guatemala City.



I don't love it here. It has a bit of a seedy feel to it. It's very touristy and because of that it's expensive. What I do love, though, are the indiginous little girls. We've seen so many in San Cristobal and here that you just want to take home, give a bath and a hot meal. We haven't been able to take any of their photos, but the Mr snuck this one this morning as she was walking away. I was writing down phrases for Yoda to translate for us.

Spanish Class

I had just been thinking that it had been a very long time since I was in a “classroom” setting, but then I remembered that I just finished that correspondence course in January. Granted, that took me a full year longer than it was supposed to, but whatever.

Anyway, Spanish class isn’t exactly fun. The first day was sort of fun because it was new, but the truth is that I haven’t exactly applied myself, haven’t been studying verb conjugation or vocabulary. I think part of the problem is that my teacher is a little…what’s the right word here…maybe odd. He’s odd. And sort of an Ewok. Or at least what I think of an Ewok. I not sure that I actually know what an Ewok looks like, but the name seems right. Or maybe a gremlin. He’s about 5 feet tall. Mustached. Wears cartoon character ties. Divorced with 2 kids. Has a severe blinking habit. Oh and is a cobbler when he’s not teaching. Really. He makes shoes. The Mr called him Yoda because of the strange gurgly Yoda sounding tick noise he makes all the time.

The Mr’s instructor is an older gentleman. Very civilized and seems entertained by the Mr’s lack of Spanish and French pronunciations. The Mr is lucky. If I had his instructor, I’d be all Spanish Spanish Spanish.

So Yoda (his real name is Gerber, but I can't not think of him as Yoda) and I spend our 4 hours sort of chatting – me asking simple questions in Spanglish (yes, I’m capitalizing it) and him responding in Spanish Spanish Spanish – and both of us copying stuff from another teacher’s notebook into our notebooks. He likes to use different colors in his notebook, so his is prettier than mine, which annoys the hell out of me.

After two sessions of sitting at little wooden desks and uncomfortable plastic chairs, today we hijack the class and take our teachers to a Museum of Weaponry (I don’t know if that’s what it was called, but there were lots of weapons – guns, rifles, canons) and then we took a very long lunch break. Total Spanish class slackers.

Here's a picture of me and Yoda. Note the tie.



After a tasty dinner at Burger King, we went to Panza Verde for drinks. One of the founding members of the Buena Vista Social Club was playing a short set. There wasn't a place to sit in the little room he was playing in, but we could hear from the bar and didn't have to pay the cover. The margarita was ok, but they just aren't the same in Guat as they are in Mexico.

Getting to La Antigua, Guatemala

You have no idea how I hated to leave Lomas de Tzunana. It was just so nice. Although, this British couple did get attacked (Maria's word. Mugged is more accurate) on the road to Tzunana by three teens. One of them was wearing Metallica t-shirt. The Mr also saw them on the trail as he was on his way back to the hotel. Fortunately, he had picked up a bamboo walking (fighting?) stick and they didn't mess with him. I don’t know. Maybe it was time to go.

Our departure went off like clockwork. 10am checkout and goodbye to Maria and Thierry. 10:35 not Mariano (our waiter and all around helpful guy except that he spoke close to zero English) took our bags down to the dock. Caught the 11am launcha to Panajachel. 11:35 guy from travel agency meets us to get his money. 12 van arrives. And then things get wacky. There's another woman on the van. She's traveling with her husband and teenage son. They've made the trip before. Apparently, there's a shortcut to Antigua that avoids the construction and delays on the Pan American Highway. And by Highway, they mean road or street. The shortcut is super curvy, cliffy and skinny. She’s freaking out about it because she “gets sick”. So I’m thinking car sick and I am like, Hey I have stuff for motion sickness. And she says, No it’s anxiety, sheer terror and I cried the whole trip. She begs the driver to take the PAH, to drive carefully and not kill us because she has a child and needs to survive this trip in sort of Spanish. He quietly listens and lets her finish and finally says: Tengo ninos tambien. Nadie muerte hoy. I have kids too. No one dies today. It was really hard not to laugh.

Other than that, the trip was uneventful. Yes, the road was curvy and cliffy and skinny. A guy in the back got sick. Strangely enough, I didn’t. Perhaps I was too busy trying to listen to this total hippy semi burn out guy who talked the entire trip. His name is Jack when he’s from Santa Cruz. Joaquin when he’s in Guatemala. Jack talked about all he’s seen in Guatemala in the 29 years that he’s been coming to Atitlan. Talked about the Mormans invading Santiago de Atitlan. Talked about how no one knows what’s happening with the sewage pipe in the lake after the earthquake. Talked about Demi, Ashton and the girls being on the lake two weeks ago. Talked and talked and talked. Which was actually fine because crazy anxiety lady didn’t get her freak out on.

We’re signed up for 20 hours of Spanish classes at Centro Linguistico International. They had a last minute cancellation and we were able to get a room at the school. It’s ok. Not great. Bed sucks, but once again, the Mr comes up with a genius solution. We sneak into the bodega after hours, help ourselves to two mattress pads and an extra blanket and remake the bed with all three under the sheets. It helped. We have a view of the courtyard and the volcano to the south. We get free laundry and internet. Plus, it’s only $125US for the week, so I guess you can’t really complain. Classes start tomorrow afternoon. And tonight I’m wondering what I’ve got myself into.

And that's what I get

Last day in Atitlan. Sunny and warm again. I’m finally getting to wear the cute little top that the couple from Kansas gave me in Merida. And bermuda shorts. And I have to admit that I had been feeling a little cute. Cute and even kind of girly. And then I was in the lobby, trying to book a hotel and Spanish lessons in Antigua. I was even helping a couple from Israel with their phone reservations. In Spanish. So feeling good. As you can imagine. And then the girl asked when I was due...

I can’t believe it’s August already. It’s practically the end of summer!

After the crazy thunder, lightning and rain we had yesterday, we were happy to wake up to clear skies and sun. We had a leisurely breakfast out on the patio, enjoying some of the best coffee we’ve had recently. It’s grown locally in the highlands of Guatemala. We hope to find some to buy in Antigua. No idea why they don’t sell it around here, but they don’t.

After breakfast, we took a launcha to San Pedro to hit the ATM and then a tuk tuk (tricycle taxi) to the next village over, San Juan. San Pedro is a super hippy back packer hang out. The water appears to be polluted and the city smelled. San Juan is smaller and Maria suggested we visit to get a feel of a typical Guatemalan town. And that’s exactly what it was. Not much going on other than just people living their life.

I’ve been on the look out for yarn shops throughout this whole trip. I thought for sure I’d find one in Merida, what with all the textiles for sale. No dice. And then I thought for sure I’d find one in San Cristobal because of all the Europeans who have moved there. Surely there are knitters. Right? Nope. So imagine my surprise when I walked into a little shop selling hand woven table cloths, napkins, table runners, etc and found those same triangular bins that yarn shops in the states use for displays. Yarn! Hand dyed, cotton yarn in beautiful saturated colors. I nearly fell over with joy. But then I learned that it wasn’t really yarn. It was embroidery string. I still touched every single skein, but didn’t buy anything.

I also saw a woman crocheting in the central market. She was making a very pink lacy tablecloth. I wanted to take her picture, but the indigenous people believe that a photograph steals your soul, so we didn’t get one.

I have, however, been knitting a bit more. I think it’s the lakeside setting that has inspired me again. It’s just so lakey and lodgy that knitting makes sense here. So I’ve picked up the socks that I cast on during the bus ride from Isla to Merida and have about 2 inches done. The colors are very Guatemalan – blues, purples, greens, oranges – not colors I usually knit with. I think they’ll be girl socks. Short girl socks.

Lake Atitlan

Our tourist van to Lake Atitlan picked us up at our hotel a little before 8. There were already 6 people in the van and we were hoping that was going to be it. Nope, they packed 5 more people into it. I, of course, was lucky enough to get to sit next to an Italian Lurch whose nicotine cravings were so bad that he spent most of the 8 hours twitching for a cigarette. At one point, I seriously thought he was going to put his arm around me during one of his fits. We played the this is my space, back off game pretty much then entire way trip to the border of Mexico and Guatemala.

Immigration was easy, thanks to the tour company. They guided us along and like good little cattle; we followed the rest of the heard and made it though in less than an hour. The Guatemala bus was bigger, but we were one of the last ones on and I had to sit on a jump seat that folded out into the aisle. Not exactly the most comfortable, but the other passengers kept me distracted enough that it wasn’t so bad. Teenagers – two beautiful German girls traveling with their parents who giggled most of the trip and a guy from England who watched South Park on his ipod the whole time - surrounded me. And of course, Lurch and his traveling companion were up ahead jonesing for a smoke the entire time. The Mr got to sit next to Lurch’s friend, but he at least had a real seat and a window.

The Guatemalan countryside is very dramatic- deep craggy cliffs that sort of remind me of Kauai. The border is in the lowlands, so it was much warmer than San Cristobal. To get to Lake Atitlan, you wind your way back up into the mountains. The road is paved and I can’t imagine the man hours it took to carve it out of the mountains. It’s the rainy season, so it’s very green. People build their homes, plant their corn and raise a cow and a couple of chickens right on the side of the road and on the edge of the mountain cliffs. It seems dangerous, but it was that way the whole way up.

Tourist van is the way to go. There is no way I would drive these roads. They’re just so curvy. Plus, drivers are insane. Either that or the rules of the road are really loose. People pass at the most dangerous times with just seconds to spare and often drive over the center line, creating a third lane. There are speed bumps all over the place. In one little village at the top of a hill, a couple of little boys created their own dirt speed bump and pulled a rope across the Pan American Highway, forcing tourists to stop. Our bus stopped, paid the boys and drove past. Can you image that in the states? On the 5?

We also got pulled over by the Policia. It was probably just an insurance check, but still a little unnerving to see these tough looking guys, dressed all in black, and packing machine guns.

Guatemala definitely feels more third world than Mexico so far. Panajchel, our jumping off point for the Lake, was sketchy. It’s definitely an opportunist place, but you can’t be bitter about it since the poverty level is so great and we represent such great comparative wealth. I don’t mind that we pay almost double than the locals for a boat ride to our hotel. Especially when it works out to be less than $3 US.

And our hotel…Lomas de Tzununa. It’s exactly as represented on the their website. 10 rooms carved into the mountain, each with amazing views of the lake and surrounding volcanoes. Of course, to get those views, you have to go up. Maria, who owns and runs the hotel with her husband Thierry, said it was 100 meters from the lake. I didn’t think it sounded like that much. I’m not so good with the whole metric conversion math. It’s high. 400 steps straight up, starting from an altitude of 5000 feet. I’m going to blame my heart pounding, out of breath, think I’m going to die state on the long trip, altitude and hunger. It’s either that or admit that while I’ve definitely lost some weight on this trip, I’m still horribly out of shape.

Moving On

We’re ready to go. We bought our seats on a tourist van to Guatemala after breakfast this morning. Stopped by Casa del Pan for road snacks. They have these amazing croissants filled with mild chocolate and cream cheese. The Mr took this picture while I was trying to find out which one he wanted. Notice the storm clouds in the upper left.









It is the rainy season and they’re not kidding. We had been told that the afternoon thundershowers were serious business and today it poured. So much so that the street separating the hotel became a river and we were trapped in the lobby for at least an hour and a half. Fortunately, I brought a book and aside from being a bit cold, it was fun to watch.













Things are still a little damp and I’m not sure of our dinner plans. It’ll be early though. The van is picking us up before 8 and we still have to pack. I’m very excited to be moving on. I have loved San Cristobal, but am really looking forward to spending some time here.

Today we took a boat tour of the Sumidero Canyon. We were the only Americans on the tour and no one spoke to us. It was a little strange, but I’m getting used to that. I’m not sure what I was thinking agreeing to a boat tour what with still being a little dizzy from the inner ear thing, but it was fun. The water was brown and in places covered in floating trash. No swimming. That part was difficult for the Mr - all that water and he couldn’t go in. Oh and there are alligators too. The cliffs are really pretty amazing and driver did a good job of pointing out places of interest. At least, I think he was pointing out places of interest. It was all in Spanish and I was only able to make out some of it. You know, things like derecho and izquierida.



And tonight we happened upon a quaint little restaurant on one of the side streets. No idea what it was called, but we ate in an indoor courtyard next to a big tree with candles hanging from the limbs. The satellite radio was set to a love song station. Highlights included Barry Manilow (Mandy), George Michael (Careless Whispers) and a cover of some sappy 70s song by the woman with the great voice from Everything But the Girl. The special was a meat plate for two. It had some fancy Spanish name, but it was basically a plate of steak, chicken, turkey, chorizo and some mystery sausage, all grilled nicely with tortillas, beans and super spicy pico de gallo on the side. We had the place to ourselves. We still haven’t gotten over the early bird special approach to dinner. Of course, in Mexico, that means eating before 9. We had a lot of meat left over, so I took it in a to go box and left it up by the church for a street dog to hopefully find.

Cold!

The Mr says I have about a 5-degree acceptable temperature variant range. It’s somewhere between 71 and 76. It gets much cooler than that here, especially in the evenings. After the last two months of hot, you have no idea how happy I am about that. I mean, I am so in my element – layered up with jeans, t-shirt, sleeves, 28Thirty and scarf. Yep, I am finally wearing something I made and after all the days of looking at it in the heat and wondering why in the hell I was schlepping this heavy wool sweater when I’m desperate for more luggage space and could barely stand to have clothes on at all, I am extremely grateful that Mr said to bring it. And in case you think I must look funny all wrapped up, you should know that all the backpackers wear scarves and I totally blend in. Sort of. Aside from the 10 – 15 year age difference.

Today we did nothing in particular. It was great. We slept in, had a late breakfast, wondered around the city, took some pictures, napped and then headed back to the Anador. We found a table on the sidewalk, drank a couple of beers and watched people go by. Rather than buy gum or another scarf from the kids, we gave them our peanuts and limes and got big smiles in thanks.

San Cristobal

Last night we took a 13 hour bus from Merida to San Cristobal. Apparently, there isn’t an executive class bus that runs directly to SC and we were only able to book first class seats. I had been having nightmares about the bus – my back, the bathrooms, food, getting car sick – but thanks to a last minute margarita at our local bar, a few thrown together ham tacos, a name-brand, non addictive sleep aid and somewhat frequent stops, it wasn’t so bad. There was a nun sitting behind us. She snored almost the entire way.

The locals call SC Joval. It’s pronounced HOE-VEL, not HAW-VEL. Mispronouncing it earns you a very dirty look from your taxi driver from the bus station. Oops.

We’re staying at Hotel Posada Jovel. It’s not fancy, but well located and priced right. The beds are typically Mexican – hard. Water pressure is almost non-existent, but at least it gets hot and stays hot long enough to get the conditioner washed out.

After checking into our hotel, we found a walk street called The Anador and had breakfast. Before heading back to the hotel for a long nap, we wondered around the Indian craft market at Santo Domingo Church. I’m embarrassed to say that I bartered down a long sleeve embroidered shirt from 90 to 60 pesos. It’s the same shirt I was going to pay 200 for in Merida. But softer. The Mr bought a Zapatista key chain from one of the Indian girls who walk up and down the Anador

San Cristobal has a thing for fireworks. They seem to go of randomly and sound more like a firing squad, or at least what I imagine a firing squad to sound like, but I’ve been assured that someone, somewhere for some reason is letting off fireworks in some sort of celebration. Fortunately, they don’t seem to go off after 9pm

The Mr has a friend from college who lives and works here. And by friend I mean frat brother. We had dinner with him and his girlfriend at a very “posh” Italian place also on the Anador. Pizza and red wine. Turns out we knew a lot of the same people during school. There was this one call guy in particular whom we’ll call Van Man that the Mr’s friend used to live with after college. We’re going to call him that because that’s what we girls called him my freshman year. Van Man as in: Hey, let’s see if we can get Van Man to take us to that off campus party. And after dinner, they did their secret handshake.

Merida

After carefully packing up our belongings (right), we left Marina Milagro and Island Time on the 16th. 14 peso taxi from the marina. 35 peso ferry to Cancun. 5 peso taxi to the bus station. 296 peso ADO GL (gran linea) bus to Merida. The bus left around 12:30, made 3 stops (2 toll booths, 1 driver pee break) and pulled into the downtown station around 5. We walked about 5 blocks to Casa Santiago. And then I cried. I cried because the bed was so good. I cried because the pillows were down and the sheets were soft. I cried because the toilet doesn't have to be hand pumped at least 10 times. I cried because the pasta tile floors were quaint, because the bathroom stonework is really beautiful, the water hot. I cried because I was so damn happy to be on land, if not for good than at least for a good long time. I also cried because a cold glass of sauvignon blanc was waiting for me. Clearly, tears of joy.

Our B&B is perfectly situated about four blocks from the colonial centro plaza - walkable, but still quiet. Vince and David, our hosts, have been terrific. Really helpful and accommodating, but not at all intrusive. Plus, they have dogs. Felix is the mellowest Boston Terrier you'll ever meet. And Sage is a Mexican street dog with a sweet temperment and just enough street smarts to keep David on his toes. We've felt right at home. Merida is, as expected, sweltering during the day and I try to move as little as possible. Fortunately, it cools down quite a bit at night and has been quite pleasant.

One day we took an open air bus tour of the city to get some perspective. There are a number of theaters and museums scattered throughout the colonial area. There's a museum of natural history. There's a museaum of modern art. And there are also random installations on the streets.

One day we went to the zoo. It's right in the middle of town, surrounded by a cute park with lots of entertainment for the kids. The zoo was cute, sort of old school and filled with warm weather animals. They have a successful breeding program, so lots of babies. No polar bears or penguins, but there were pink flamigos.

And giraffes

And one elephant.



I also noticed that all the children were really well behaved. I didn't see a single kid crying or whining about something. The famils were just enjoying a Saturday in the park and at the free zoo. It was nice.

One other day, we took a tour of a sisal hacienda with two underground rivers, called cenotes. It's very clear, fresh water, cold. The Mr was in heaven. I liked it too until I noticed the film of dead skin and oils on the surface of the water...

Mi Gusto Mucho

I love Isla Mujeres. It's just easy. Sure, it could be easier if my Spanish was better, but it's still pretty easy.

And hard to believe it's been over a week now. We've just been hanging out. Spent a few afternoons at Playa Norte. Great people watching as the boats shuttle day trippers over from Cancun. Also made friends with one of the waiters, so we get a little special treatment and lower prices for beer and margaritas each time we go. We spent an afternoon at the pool at Villa Vera. They have great nachos and even better margaritas. The market on the island is well stocked and has a great produce department. One night we went to dinner at an Italian place and had an amazing beef carpacio and brick oven pizza. And the shrimp tacos? Not quite as good as Tio Pablos in Barrilles, but pretty damn good. Compared to Belize, this truly is the promised land.

Yesterday, I treated myself to an hour massage and an hour and a half facial at Casa Luz Spa. The spa is just lovely - white interior with ceiling fans and flowy screens. Both treatments were great. The massage was standard. The facial, however, was very different that I'm used to in the states. No steam, no extractions and no massaging. Actually, not a lot of hands on the face now that I think about it. Creams were applied, not actually rubbed in. Lots of masks. Maybe even 6. And they were rubbed off with an abrasive wash cloth. It was sort of a tough love facial. Different, but good. And my skin feels so much better. Josephina doesn't have a website, but she's on Juarez at Allende. And worth the $50 US.

Not sure when we'll leave. We're sort of waiting for Capt Jim's crew to firm up his plans. And we're not in a rush. I mean, why would we want to leave here? Besides, rumor has it that it's sweltering in Merida this time of year...

Tranquilo

We moved marinas. We're now at Marino Milagro. It's not as super deluxe, but the guys are nice, it's closer to town and much cheaper. The dock guys say it's Tranquilo here. They're talking about the marina, but it pretty much sums up our frame of mind as well.

This marina isn't all that busy, but there is a large power boat at the end of the dock. They have an ice maker. Can you imagine? Decadant! She brought some over for us the other day. She also cut the Mr's hair, trimmed mine and cleaned up Capt Jim's beard. I think he's getting pretty for his homecoming. She's also a total tanaholic. Remember the older woman in There's Something About Mary? The one with the dog that attacks Ben Stiller? This lady looks like that. And still goes to the beach almost every day, has an umbrella, but doesn't sit under it. She says it's a waste. Total tanaholic.

But chatting with her has made me realize how much I miss being around girls. I'm staying in touch via email, but it's just not the same. The boys just aren't responsive when I accidently say the randy randoms that run through my mind.

Why wouldn't Baby want to be in the corner? Don't you have the best view from the corner?

Should I be shaving my upper leg?

Do you think I need to trim my eyebrows? Rita used to do it and I'm scared. Can you do it?

Isn't it strange that bugs seem to bite twice in almost the same spot?

Does my hair look brassy?

Do you think they have yarn shops in Merida? What about in Guatemala?

Is it ok to mix Bonine, Benadryl and Ambien at night?

What do you think they're doing at home right now?

Will Lucy remember us when we get back?

Is it possible to be too tan?

I miss the girls.

Cerrado

Well, sort of cerrado. Cerrado for us. We're getting off the boat. My inner ear thing isn't clearing up and because of it I'm useless for crewing. I had planned to hang out until they were ready to set sail, would take the bus to Merida for a few days and then continue on to Texas. Unfortunately, Capt Jim isn't comfortable with me traveling on my own and so he's making arrangements for new crew to come on board and kicking both of us off. Part of me is tremendously relieved to not have to make the crossing. I can't think of anything worse, but I'm also terribly disappointed in myself. I really thought I was going to be able to do it. The last time this happened, my doctor diagnosed it as Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo, however, it's looking more and more like Meniere's each day. The good news is that as as long as I don't look to the right, I can still knit. So I've got that going for me.

Mi Isla Bonita

Ambergris Caye may be the pretty island to Madonna, but as far as I'm concerned Isla Mujeres is La Isla Bonita.

Belize is a Carribbean country about the size of Rhode Island protected by 185 miles of barrier reef and surrounded by crystal clear water. If you were driving that, it would take something like 4 to 5 hours (assuming an easily driven direct road). On Island Time, it took four weeks. And as far as I'm concerned, you should never sail past the reef. I had been warned that it wasn't going to be fun, but we just had to get through it. I was prepared. I'd been taking Bonine for weeks. I had my watch backpack filled with everything I was going to need with me for those 3 hours I'd be alone at the helm: pants, long sleeve t-shirt, fleece jacket, wind breaker, cotton scarf, my Boho Beret, a blanket, a book, my knitting, my journal, more Bonine. I was a Girl Scout. We'd been talking about this for weeks. Totally prepared. Right. Almost the moment we crossed over the reef at St George's Caye on the 30th and hit the 6 foot choppy swell, my sea sickness kicked in. I spent the next 26 hours in the cockpit of the boat, wet, cold, sick and just uncomfortable. Actually, uncomfortable makes it sound not entirely unpleasant. It was beyond unpleasant. I bruised my tailbone. Every muscle ached. It was just not natural - you should not be in open water, crossing through wind, rain, thunder and lightning storms, in the middle of the night when the lights of land are even slightly visible. It's just not right. You should be able to stop and pull over, get some rest, eat, maybe even go to the bathroom. But we couldn't. We pushed on to Chinchorro Bank, Mexico and finally dropped the anchor around 2pm on July 1st. Oh, and the backpack? Only made it out of the cabin long enough for me to grab my fleece and windbreaker.

CB is behind a reef (note the flat water), but that didn't last very long as we were on our way again the next morning, right after a little visit from the Mexican Navy. The seas weren't as bad and it was day light. Unfortunately, my vertigo kicked in just about the time my nausea settled down. Good stuff. 37 foot sail boat in open water pushing through 3 - 5 foot seas and I'm dizzy...I spent most of the day on my bunk with my eyes closed, moving as little as possible. We anchored at Cozumel around 2am this morning, slept a bit, were on our way again by 9am and pulled into Heaven around 4pm. Heaven, you ask? Yes. Villa Vera Puerto Isla Mujeres Marina. Water, power, free wi-fi and showers. More importantly, however, it's on land. Oh and there's a pool. With a swim up bar. And cabana boys. Hello vacation!

And so, to me, Ambergris ain't got nothing on Isla Mujeres.

Cabin Fever

Still anchored at Caye Caulker. We are so ready to move on, but the weather isn't cooperating. I've been reading, some knitting, swimming, napping and just hanging out to pass the time. The Mr went diving a couple of days, mostly just to get off the boat. We've all got a touch of cabin feezer. I think I might even be a little bored. So bored in fact that this afternoon, I noticed how long my leg hair was getting. It's not like crazy hippy college days long, but long enough that it could be tweezed. And so I did. I can't think of another time in my life where that seemed like a good use of my time.

And speaking of hair, it seems like all of a sudden it's growing. I can actually get it all into a ponytail. It's a short one, but it fits and with a headband, even those frizzy baby hairs stay off my face. I stopped taking the B Complex vitamains a while ago. It makes my pee super yellow, so I couldn't tell if I wasn't drinking enough water or if it was just the vitamin. I'm sort of obsessed wtih staying hydrated in this heat. It's hard though. The water from the fiberglass holding tank tastes bad. Like ass. It doesn't smell, but it definitely tastes like ass and is hard to drink. I brought some of those Crystal Light On-the-Go packs to add to the water, but you can still taste the ass. Which means I'm drinking more rum, beer and coke light. So it's surprising that my hair is growing, what with my nutritious diet and all.

Lucy's birthday was yesterday. Her 4th. I hate that we missed it. Last year she celebrated with peanut butter flavored Frosty Paws, basically a dixie cup of frozen yogurt for dogs. Mom was going to try to find some for the "grand-puppy." Of course, doggy dixie cups might just be a little too California to find in rural Oregon. She (Lucy) did finally get a haircut. I can't figure out why they always leave her hair so long around her mouth. Don't they know she's a girl?

Growing Roots

We have been anchored at Caye Caulker since the 15th. So long that I'm beginning to think that the boat has a way of growing roots or sucking us into some sort of vortex. We've tried to leave. A couple of time actually. We sailed up to Ambergris on the 18th to check out of the country on the 19th. I guess that makes us illegal aliens until we do actually leave Belizian waters. We attempted an exit on the 21st. Capt Jim and I pulled up the anchor at 5:30am, got just past the tip of North Caye Caulker, had the wind right on our nose and decided to save it for another day. Since then we've been following tropical wave and tropical wave with winds from the North. We need to head North and can't sail into the wind. So, we are still on Caye Caulker.

Fortunately, we like it here. It's a laid back, irie kind of island, with sandy streets and palm trees. It's a backpackers paradise with lots of European travlers. It's not the best place for the ego though. Nothing like mid-20 Nordic ice princesses to make you feel old, frumpy and just plain brunette. Did I mention old? God they look so young. Did I look that young traipsing around Spain and Portugal at 26? Anyway, there are a number of recommended restaurants, grocery stores and internet cafes. We even found a bar with free wi-fi with purchase. Is it bad to be drinking dark rum and Coke Light at 11am. I suppose I could have had a bloody mary, but vodka in Belize just doesn't feel right.

I think we've adjusted to boat life. Adjusted as well as you can to living in a space that takes literally 8 steps to get from one end of the cabin to the other. This definitely isn't like that Estee Lauder commercial. You know the one with Gwenyth looking ethereal in white with her hair swept back, wearing tasteful gold jewelry on the massive sailing yacht? That's not me. At all. Granted, I'm not smelly. I mean, we do take baths every night - salt water baths with a fresh water rinse on the swim platform. Sure, it's really hard to get a good shampoo with salt water, but I'm not smelly, just not very girly.

The boat is constantly moving, which means I'm even clumsier than usual, always bumping my head and tripping over myself. And because you're constantly compensating for the motion, doing nothing can be exhausting. Sleeping is a mixed bag. We don't sleep well the first night at a new anchorage. We're all up throughout the night, checking to see if the anchor has drug. The next night is usually better. The salon couch untucks into a double bed. That's where I'm sleeping, which mean the bed has to be made at night and put away in the morning. It also means that I wake up when the boys do. Fortunately, afternoon (and sometimes late morning) naps are also part of the routine. The Mr took this shot of the boat on the Rio Dulce in Guatemala.

I have a callous under the middle finger of my left hand. From knitting? Nope; it's almost too hot for knitting. From hoisting sails and line handling? No; not too much sailing going on. From hanging on for dear life? Maybe. but I think it's from the head. From pumping the head (the toilet). Charming, I know. You just don't appreciate a flush toilet until you don't have one...

It's not all bad though. Life on the boat is leisurely. Nothing happens quickly. We don't sail fast, we don't walk fast, and we obviously aren't heading North fast. There are definitely simple pleasures on board: strong morning coffee, a cold Coke Light in the afternoon, a fresh pot of pinto beans (40 minutes in the pressure cookers), finding flour tortillas to go with those pinto beans, peanut butter and bananas on toast (from a real toaster powered by the generator), mangos, a couple pieces of ice in my rum punch sundowner (actually, ice in anything is a real treat), approaching an isolated palm covered island rimmed with a sandy beach surrounded by clear torquoise water and no other boats in sight and really fantastic sunsets. Actually, if I'm being honest, it's pretty good. Which is a good thing since I missed my return flight on the 16th...

Belize City

We've made it up to where this trip was supposed to start. We pulled into Cucumber Beach Marina in Belize City on the 11th. We have power (which equals air conditioning at night), free water (SHOWERS), laundry (they SO needed it) and a steady supply of cold Belikin (the beer of Belize). We've been hanging out at the marina, eating at the restaurant, chatting with other cruisers and puttering aroung the boat. Capt Jim and the Mr took the bus into Belize City to restock the fridge in the city yesterday and brought back an unexpected treat - Snickers - from the central grocery store. I've never been so happy to see a bite size bar in my entire life. Heaven.



Here's a picture of a local fruit stand. It isn't exactly Bristol Farms, but the fruit has been flavorful and I try not to think about the other stuff.



Today, the Mr and I took the city bus out to the Belize Zoo for a little National Geographic (at the zoo and on the bus). The zoo is compact with about 25 animals indiginous to Belize. We practically had the place to ourselves and didn't see a single screaming child. Cameron Diaz has even been there. Highlights were definitely the Cotamondi, cute little rodent things with piggish snouts (I supsect Paris Hilton already has one as a pet), the black and spotted jaguars and some cute little owls who behaved like love birds. The Tapirs were particularly attracted to Scott's camera. He has a few pictures on his blog. I spent most of the visit swatting mosquitos. I can't understand why they're so attracted to me. The boys have their own theories, of course. The Mr thinks I'm too clean and compared to them, it's certainly a possibility. Capt Jim maintains that daily doses of garlic tablets are the key. Allegedly, garlic will ward off bugs as well as Montezuma's Revenge and stomach bacteria. On our first trip to Belize in 2005, no matter where we went, I was bug bait. For the second trip, I decided to test his theory and started taking garlic tablets every day for about a month before the trip. I had garlic breath and garlic burps for the entire month and still got bit. I started taking his odorless gel caps a week or so after I got here. No garlic breath or burps, but I'm still bug bait, but haven't had any of the other problems.

I swear I'm having more fun at the zoo than it looks in this photo.



I've also started knitting up a third and hopefully final black watch cap for the Mr, ala Jacque Cousteau, but not red. I've been putting it off and feeling a little Goldilocks about the whole thing. The first was too small. The second too big. So we'll see how this one turns out. I'm working it up in Debbie Bliss Cashmerino Aran on US size 6 with 3 1/2 inches of a 3x3 rib for the bottom and then will finish it up in stockinette. It'll be dense and seems ridiculous in this heat, but perhpas he'll need it during the Gulf crossing. And after the toothpicks I've been knitting socks on, the 6s feel good in my hands.

Anyway, I think we'll probably be here until Sunday and then head out to Caye Caulker, which will probably be our last stop in Belize before checking into Mexico. We are slowly, very slowly, making our way North. Do we have a plan? Not so much. One of the things I am working on is just going with the flow. How's that working for me?...um, yeah...I've learned that I am a girl who likes a plan and a schedule. But then who am I kidding? We already knew that.

Garbutt Caye

After almost a week in Placencia, we finally untied and motor sailed out to Laughing Bird Caye for some afternoon snorkeling. It's one of my favorite places - warm water, sandy bottom, clear water, lots of tropical fish and coral formations. We didn't stay all that long as a storm came up and we headed to Long Cocoa Caye for what turned out to be an uncomfortable anchorage - high winds, very rolly seas. Fortunately, we only stayed for one night before sailing to Garbutt Caye, home of ex-con Harry, the unofficial mayor of the Caye. Dad makes a point to visit each time he's in the area and brings a little something to trade for fresh fish or lobster. Usually books or magazine, a can-opener, candles, things to make his life on the island a little easier. This year it was a bottle of rot-gut booze from Guatemala. 2% alcohol, 98% agricultural distillates. We didn't see Harry again before we left...

Progress

I made it to Placencia, Belize and since we can't seem to leave, inernet access isn't as far off as I thought. Access if free from The Purple Space Monkey. And if you don't mind that your fingers stick to the keyboard, you can sit here for as long as you like. The original plan was to meet in Belize City, but two tropical depressions hit and the Boat Boys couldn't make it up. Instead, I caught an island hopper to Placencia. I didn't mind as I fell in love with Placencia on our first trip to Belize back in 2005. It's quaint, coastal and boasts the skinniest sidewalk in the world. See.

As quaint as it is, it hasn't avoided progress. Street signs have gone up since the last time we were here. The Mr is particularly fond of this one. I can not imagine why...

We're tied up at the Placencia Yacht Club, with anchored boats in the background. Don't get too excited. It's not a glamorous yacht club yacht club, but has a nice dock with an outdoor shower, a bar called Tranquillo that serves a mean Rum Punch and $2 beers, entertaining characters and has kept us pretty stable during the crazy evening storms. And because of all of that, we seem to have no immediate plans to leave.

Radio Silent

This is it for a while. I leave for Belize in just a few minutes. Not sure how accessible the net will be, so for now, this is it. The weather has been pretty nasty down there. But the Counting Crows were playing when the alarm clock went off this morning, so I'm considering that a good omen.

Take care and I'll be in touch when I can. Wish me luck!

The Best Day

Yesterday was such a great day. I'm still in Sisters with Scott's parents. It was warm and sunny. We took Lucy for a walk. My FIL made breakfast. We leisurely ate out on the deck with a view of the Three Sisters. I would have taken a morning picture, but the camera was, well it was inside and it was just so nice outside that I couldn't be bothered to get up. I emailed with the Mr (who is stuck in Placencia, Belize and won't be meeting me in Belize City as planned due to a little tropical depression that hit the other night) and then my MIL and I went into Sisters to check out the LYS, The Stitchin Post. It's more of a quilting store, but they do have a nice little selection of yarns with hardly any acrylic to be found. But the best part of the entire day was that after wondering around Sisters for a bit, we went to the opening show of Sex and The City. I won't spoil it with any details, but if you watched the series and haven't seen the movie, run, don't walk to the theater. Right now. Go.

What a Difference A Week Makes

From palm trees to pine trees.

And tram topped to snow capped peaks. The view of the Three Sisters from the deck at the IL's house in Sisters, Oregon.