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About 15 years ago, Sharon and I went on this unplanned, convoluted trip that took us through Jalisco, Colima and Morelia states in west – northwest Mexico. We flew in to Guadalajara, rented a cheap car and started the unknown path. In the middle of this trip we fell upon a very funky, 60’s-ish type motel in the town of San Patricio, Melaque. We loved it. Unfortunately it was Christmas time and we could only stay one night. The town was booked. Bummer.
We always said we would go back so that is the main objective of this trip.
Thursday, December 12, 6:00 am. We are out the door in fine fashion. Sharon is the queen of packing. I had barely drudged to the living room, performing my best Frankenstein’s monster walk, complete with moans, groans and obligatory allergic reaction to light, to discover that the car is ready to go. Evidently she woke up before me.
6:09 am. We are in transit, hit the Laredo bridge by 8, get all the necessary permissions squared away and “Ta Da”, we’re setting the controls for the heart of Mexico.
Last summer, my daughter Lauren and her husband Josh joined us for one of our trips. In Matehuala, she spied a cabrito restaurant. What followed I won’t go into, but we stopped at that same restaurant and the owner appeared to remember the güeros locos and proceeded to treat us like Fiesta royalty. It’s good to be King.
The last two hours of driving got us in to San Luis Pososí. We acquired some much needed pesos at the SLP airport, scooted back to the main highway and checked in to what one would call “a hotel with guest benefits”. Even though there were hundreds of super loud Mexican fireworks going off all around us in celebration of Our Lady of Guadalupe day, we were asleep within minutes.
December 13. It’s another 6am start. We found the nearest Pemex to fuel up and quickly were on the road to Colima. We were blessed with some freshly cut, newly paved toll roads that took us through some amazing landscapes.
We found the first parking spot along a curb and commenced searching out for hotel, food or bar, whichever came first. Bar won, shortly followed by food. Sharon ordered pollo en molé which mysteriously was served as chicken enchiladas with molé nowhere in sight.
After lunch we walked around in search of hotel. In front of the main plaza we settled on a BWH that was wonderfully quiet and surprisingly affordable. We were greeted with some sort of fruit blend welcoming drink that soon was infused with tequila; ours not theirs.
So, let’s get oriented. We’re on the main square, a public area with gazebo in the middle. Our hotel faces the square on the north side. We had lunch facing the south side. To the west were some businesses with a HUGE stack of spent beer kegs that obviously caught my attention. And then to the east side, where stood the Catedral Basilica. It was big, old and gothic.
It’s the day after Our Lady of Guadalupe day and the cathedral was filled to the ceiling with fresh flowers. In the corner we discovered what we assumed was a depiction of Jesus practicing that “water-to-wine” thing.
December 14. The exit from Colima was performed with military like precision. Again we were blessed with good roads. Just to make things fun for everyone, the drive to the coast was fast and 1000s of feet downhill. It was an ear-popin’ thrill ride amongst the double trailered semi-trucks that out numbered us regular folk by 4 to 1. In the middle of this decent, Sharon said, “You know, we’re just chasing a dream,. The odds that the beautiful moment from 15 years ago can be relived are probably just not gonna happen.” – But we’re dreamers.
Once things leveled out we were winding around the outskirts of Manzanillo. All the signage seemed well placed for easy guidance so I decided we could turn off the good old GPS.
In 60 seconds we were instantly lost.
I gave in and submitted to firing up Google Maps, even though I knew our destination was just over the next rise in the road. In 15 minutes we were in San Patricio de Melaque.
I think we’re going to be just fine. There’s our old hotel, “Bungalows Azteca”. We met Fernando, the do-it-all proprietor, and booked several nights, (even though all the on-line booking sights said “no vacancies”).
What’s cool about San Patricio de Melaque is that it is popular for vacationers but it’s not screwed up. It still feels as small as it did 15 years ago. The streets are dusty, even the paved ones, and it is not uncommon for chickens to run out to greet you. Well, that was my understanding. Come to find out chickens are really stupid. That’s why we eat them… with molé.
Take me with you. I have all your CD’s.
Great story about your trip so far Donnie. I look forward to many more.
Sitting here watching nothing, oh what’s this on facebook? Great reading, can’t wait for the movie. Keep chasing that dream, most of mine are of trying to survive an instellar alien invasion. Have fun on to the next chapter.