An hour before my mum left on new year’s eve, Seamus arrived with a headache and promptly lay under hot towels on the bed. I had had enough time lounging around in Puerto Vallarta after about five days so I wasn’t to displeased too have New Year’s Eve’s entertainment and then leave for the beach the following day. We went out for dinner with Kephra and three of her friends near the ‘hotel zone’ and then walked back along the packed Malecon towards the ‘zona romantica’ – e.g. the long term gringo residents gulch and gay old age home.
I had suggested Frida‘s the cantina away from the crowds – alas after ordering drinks we were told they were closing in five minutes. So after being chatted up by a somewhat haggard but exuberantly drunk fellow from Vancouver we decided to take his suggestion of going to Los Amigos “a non-uppity bar” with no cover charge. So Seamus and I played pool and drank tequila where I soundly beat him for several games. Except for the last game where I sunk the white ball after the eight ball in order to avoid playing the next challenger who had been groping me at every opportunity while I played Seamus.
Waking up groggy we packed up from Casa Carmen with some difficulty and made our way to the taco stand for the last best tacos of Puerto Vallarta – Cisneros Restaurant with stand outside at Aguacate between Cardenas and Carranza.
Seamus’ first time on the back of the bike was off to a rough start as we had to go down the steep hill from the flat to the taco stand, upon arrival he proceeded to fall down on his back from the bike trying to get off in front of all the
bemused Cisneros’ customers. After he inquired after my state and I answered “I feel a bit stupid” (from the hangover) he worriedly brought back two iced coffees before we were allowed to continue on our trip to San Francisco (Pancho) in Nayarit state. Traffic was light on New Year’s day and we made it north through the city without incident to the hilly jungle portion of highway 200. Seamus was initially rebelling against leaning into the curves making driving more dangerous but I could feel him relaxing after about 20 curves or so. He indeed confirmed he thought I was going to fast into the curves and I realized I’d failed to do my reassuring duty.
We arrived in San Pancho and managed to find the unmarked house of the rental management people that hadn’t responded to my reservation request – but luckily the place was available. For $55 it’s not particularly special but will suffice for our next few days here before heading inland to Guadalajara.













The only problem with reading this regularly is the Fernweh. Happy New Year!
Hmm.
So you didn’t put a stop to the groping, just refused to play with him in the end?
Forensic Reader