Hotel O'Hara Marlene
Travel Blogs from Puerto Vallarta
... market right by the ship. Back onboard, I caved and bought an internet card and contacted people on Facebook and checked my emails. I saw some sad news from a good friend of mine back in NY and talked to her for quite a while. I really wish there were a way I could be there for her and visit everyone once I get back. Living in Washington for a year, on the opposite side of the country as nearly all my friends and family, has been pretty depressing at times like ...
... driving around the area for hours at time. Joanne didn't like the tour but I did not mind it at all. I kept myself busy by taking tons of photos.
It's always great to see how people live in different parts of the world. You definitely appreciate what you have at home. You also realize how people can be happy with much less than you have.
During the tour, we stopped at a little village. The guide informed us that although this little village does not have much in the line ...
... at Hotel Belmar, the parade of the festival of Gaudalupe arrived at our doorstep of men and women in costumes of feathered hats, jingling ankles dancing to brass marching music. The hours passed with Dos Equios in hand while promenading the Melacon and amusing Dave with upskirt views as us 4 girls climbed various climbable objects. The night ended there, only to be followed by a ravishing night of sleep.
Not only did Sara kick me because my knee accidentally touched hers, but ...
... standing around with M-16s. I’ve noticed this level of security everywhere I’ve been in Mexico so far.
The Malecon was starting to fill up so I walked a block up to where the streets were almost deserted. By now I’d finished my Go Cup so stopped for another one at an empty little bar called Bebotera and started heading back the way I’d come. I cut back onto the southern end of the Malecon and followed the road that runs beside the bridge crossing ...
... it and we are thinking we are missing the traffic (Upon looking at the map as I write this, I cannot believe how fked up we were.) And then, bang. “Turn left here!” Turn left where? **** it’s a grubby looking turn off into a crappier looking village with a million cars and busses all over the place on 12 ft roads. Well we take the turnoff begrudgingly; always trust the GPS, but now seriously doubting it. We appear to be lost a number ...
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