Thursday, April 19, 2007

It was inevitable!

Wednesday – Week 7: Now today was to be the day of collapse and rest. Life always has its interesting twists and turns. I took off for Parque Juarez to read a book and have a leisurely cigar. As I was walking one of the paths, to find a nice sitting spot, I ran into Dale and Gail Foreman from Wenatchee. I knew it was inevitable that I would sometime bump into someone from Wenatchee, it being such a small world. He is an attorney and orchardist who I have known for decades. It turns out they are conducting their own tour of the colonial area of Mexico, traveling by buses, no less. We chatted about their trip and our residency, and I went on to an hour of reading and cigaring (is that a verb?).

I planned to meet Mary Ann in the Jardin at noon to do a little grocery shopping (make that bakery shopping). When we met we walked to the corner of the Jardin, and there is Dale getting his shoes shined. Gail walks up from checking some shops and we offered to show them around some of the favorite sites of the World’s Greatest Shopper. Poor Dale, he never knew what hit him. Off to the Mercado and Artesanias we go, and the buying begins. In addition to the Foreman’s purchases, Mary Ann gets into the swing of it with; I’m sure, a one in a million unique handicraft object. It was all good fun and enjoyed by the Foreman’s. We then suffered with a lunch at Meson de San Jose. Uriel, the waiter there, now greets us like long lost relatives. Next time I am going to ask for a commission.

So that Dale and Gail could get a feel for what is behind the walls, we took them back to Casa Tranquilidad, so they could see how we have been suffering here in San Miguel these past seven weeks. The first entry into the Casa is usually a real gasp from our visitors, as you can only imagine what a beautiful home it is, especially when they find out our daily rate is less that their hotel room. They received the full tour and it was fun to just talk about their lives and our San Miguel experiences.

In the evening, Mary Ann and I went to a french/vietnamese restaurant named Chamonix. We do have to keep up the eating investigations.

Quirky Living Note: In what must now be hundreds of visits to the Jardin, I have never been there day or night, when there haven’t been the balloon sellers wandering the park, enticing the small children to get their parents to buy a balloon, or other small plastic colorful toy to play with as the family enjoys their time and stroll in the park. There must be a balloon sellers union as the number of vendors increases proportionately with how crowded the Jardin is. On weekends, Sunday evenings, and holidays the regular sales force is augmented by the opportunists.

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