 We're home.
The grand Mexican family vacation (actually five grand) is over.
My legs are white.
I'm a bit brown from the elbows down and where my face isn't red. Sat in the shade whenever possible, wearing long sleeve shirt, Panama hat and long pants that could be converted to shorts by zipping off the legs. This was my concession to the family. I had packed a pair of almost shorts.
Applied sun-screen twice to my arms and face during the week, when I wore a short sleeve shirt. Got my feet wet, but that's all. Read Hemingway on Fishing and relaxed with a beer at my elbow the whole time (there can't be any alcohol in Mexican beer, none, or I wouldn't have still been strolling the grounds at 10pm).
I'd had big plans. I was going to fish the surf. Packed the 8-wt. rod I'd built the previous winter, had tied a couple dozen large streamers and bought 12 lb. leaders so I could wrestle a dorado to the beach. Didn't happen.
Well, I did go out to the end of rock spit and try to cast over the surf, but soon discovered that it was a pointless exercise, dredging barnacles from the bottom, if I got my fly back at all.
The Old Bag, not much of a beach-goer herself, spent some time in the sun and some in the shade, mostly on the other side of the pool from me.
The Baguette and her friend, Jacquie, spent all their time in the sun. They played beach volleyball and soccer, swam in the ocean and pool, rode mini surf boards, kayaked, played ping-pong and had a fantastic time except for the lack of boys their age.
Viva Vallarta was truly a four-star resort. We got a fantastic room with a view of the pool and ocean and could just walk out the patio door onto the grass or take the steps to the beach. Every day the towels were all folded into shapes of swans and sailboats etc. And the shower delivered a constant, forceful stream of water at the temperature you selected.
Food was different of course, but mostly it was good. There was a wide selection in the buffet. I finally learned to take just a small bit of anything and see if I liked it. There was whole roast pig one day as a choice, along with grilled butterfly fish, pizza and burgers and fries for kids, umpteen salads, roast chicken, pastas...
We were allowed a visit to the Mexican ala-carte and an Italian ala-carte during our visit. Despite all the advice I'd had, I ordered the New York steak at Portofino, the Italian restaurant. It looked and tasted like it had been driven over by all the New York taxis heading for Kennedy Airport. The others had much better luck with salmon, but it just didn't seem right to come all the way from B.C. and order salmon. I'd have thought there would be much more sea-food on the menu, shellfish. I'd have loved a feast of shrimp or prawns, some clams and mussels, crab.
The Mexican restaurant turned out to be my favorite. I got wise and ordered the fish dishes. Baguette and Jacquie - a credit to them - tried the roast cactus salad and fajitas and enchiladas and the Baguette finally said one nice thing to her mom - that her fajitas are better.
We took a trip into Puerto Vallarta. The Signature rep gave us the options. Charter bus from the hotel for a three-hour visit at $8 US each, taxi for $60 US return or local bus for $2 each, each way. We took the charter, and were glad we did as we passed the local buses with standees, hard seats, no air conditioning.
I find nothing appealing about Mexican trinkets, but I got to stand outside the various stores in the flea market anyway, while the girls shopped. They didn't buy much, and I bought even less, a belt, at full price, because the Old Bag blew my bargaining position, if I ever had one.
I retired to the bar where the bus would pick us up and had two or three (OK, four) Dos Equis, which weren't available at the hotel.
Highlight of the trip for the kids was being able to order an alcoholic drink at the bar. They weren't supposed to be able to, wearing their orange bracelets that marked them as kids, but both being almost 17 and having breasts, and having brains, they simply turned the bracelets over so that the white side showed (which wasn't much of a plot, since you need a blue bracelet for adult service) or kept their arm out of sight. Still it seemed to work and any time I went up to order for them, they mostly chose virgin versions of the drinks.
We took an excursion to Marietas Island. I wasn't keen on dropping almost $100 Can. each, but it was one of the least expensive options. Old Bag spent hours trying to convince us that we should spend three times as much to kiss a dolphin, but I prevailed, thank God.
Anyway, I've cruised around B.C. and the Marietas are a bunch of rocks, with birds flying around, some that migrate to bunches of rocks in B.C. for the summer.
It was a snorkelling and kayaking trip with a fifty or sixty foot catamaran as the base. When we arrived the waters were full of jelly fish. The crew, who were fantastic throughout the trip, finally found a spot with fewer jellyfish for the swim. I declined to join in, pointing out that I'd tried it before and my cigarette kept going out.
Jacquie threw-up twice on the way to the location in a smaller boat and the Baguette got stung by a jelly-fish. Signature rep had told me that the crew would chum the area with bread bits to bring up the tropical fish. In fact, one of the crew dived to the bottom and brought up a starfish and some other species. Jacquie came back to the mother boat with purple lips. Water temps were about 65 F.
The excursion continued to "one of the best beaches in the area" for a couple hours swimming and sun-bathing. This was the part I was waiting for, my 8 Wt. at my side and flys in my pack.
Beach turned out to be about 1/4 mile from our hotel, which also had one of the best beaches in the area.
Didn't wet a line.
Rod made it back to B.C. unscathed, where it may have to challenge the assertion that there are no steelhead. There certainly are no dorado.
"There are no steelhead".
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