LAS SECUELAS

The wedding was on Friday, but we weren’t due to fly home until Sunday, so John & Meghan had done a lot of planning to arrange a charter boat on Saturday to take everyone to either snorkel or to loaf on a beach accessible only by the sea.  Actually, we got to do both.  The weather continued to cooperate, and we got calm seas and blue skies for our one-hour voyage.

First stop was a look-see at Los Arcos, with its caves and many other dive boats. 

Since the beach for the non-snorkelers was further south, we just cruised around here and then pushed on.  We got to Las Animes, dropped off the loafers, and transferred the rest of us to a smaller launch to keep going south to the rocky coves where the fish were to be found.  Things got tense when the Jolly Roger was spotted,

but our lack of plunder was obvious and we were left in peace.  Until, that is, the feeding frenzy of the dreaded saltwater piranhas.

 

Well, they coulda been piranhas.  They were beautiful, regardless.  When we plopped overboard, we immediately were in the midst of a huge school of these things.  They were the most colorful that we saw, and by far the greatest in number, but we did see a decent variety for this part of the coast.  The water was nice and warm.  You could stay in for hours if you wanted, but we were done after about one.  We had brought our masks, but not our fins, so swimming barefoot got tiring after a while.  Yeah, pansies.  I know.

We made it back to the beach and met up with the slugs, who were several drinks ahead of us.  The tables and umbrellas were courtesy of the El Coral restaurant behind us which, while having pretty good food, easily takes the award for the most manana service we encountered.  For the food, that is;  drinks were brought out pronto.

  The beach had a parasail operation going, and they managed to drop every rider we saw right on the designated landing spot as gentle as can be.  I still wasn’t tempted, however.  Those guys were getting really high.

We were content to kick back with a cerveza and some shade

 

and watch the newlyweds do the newlywed things.

Sunday it was time to pack up, take one last dip in the infinity pool, and taxi our way out to the airport.  The cabs here don’t work on a meter, but rather a zone system.  A fixed rate for each zone traveled.  For the most part, the rates were reasonable, no one tried to gouge us, and the cabbies were friendly.  Try saying that on a trip to New York.  At the airport, we couldn’t check in right away as no one was home at the Alaska Airlines counter.  The shopping was limited, but I was REALLY tempted to get this for Loni to wear.

Alas, at $USD 89, it was a pricy joke.  At last the agents opened the counters;  however, we ran into a laborious process to get checked in, the result not of the Mexican equivalent of the TSA (everything is “sorta” checked by hand, no Xrays), but rather Alaska Airline failing to have sufficient agents to handle the crowd.  We were the fifth couple in our line.  It took us an hour and twenty minutes to get to the agent.  I was not a happy camper.

Ah, well, I guess there has to be a transition back to reality from a magical week.  Adios, Puerto Vallarta, y gracias!