I have been playing the role of a hermit lately.
Since I returned from the highlands, I have generally been holed up in my house. For two reasons.
The first is the weather. I keep forgetting that September can be the most brutal month here on the Pacific coast. And this September qualifies.
The combination of the heat and the humidity limits outdoor activities. Venturing forth from the house after 11 is a bit like spending a balmy afternoon on Venus.
Of course, I could always take the air conditioned truck -- if it were not for the fact that the street that forms the border between San Patricio (where the business district is) and Villa Obregon (my village) has morphed from a road to a barrier.
The street is being torn up to improve it. (And, yes, I hear a Vietnam echo in that sentence.) But the going is slow.
The first day I returned to Melaque, I dropped off some clothes at the laundry and drove merrily down one of the town’s nicer streets. Until I encountered the barricade at the top of this post.
For a moment I thought my Francophilia had spirited me away to the Paris Commune. But it was just a barricade to keep me off of the newly graded street.
I am not certain when the construction began. But the stated completion date was supposed to coincide with the return of the white-legged snow birds.
The street is being torn up to improve it. (And, yes, I hear a Vietnam echo in that sentence.) But the going is slow.
The first day I returned to Melaque, I dropped off some clothes at the laundry and drove merrily down one of the town’s nicer streets. Until I encountered the barricade at the top of this post.
For a moment I thought my Francophilia had spirited me away to the Paris Commune. But it was just a barricade to keep me off of the newly graded street.
I am not certain when the construction began. But the stated completion date was supposed to coincide with the return of the white-legged snow birds.
That is not going to happen. At least not for the whole street. When I walked to town this morning, the crews were laying the pavers for the portion of the street that gets most of the beach traffic.
If they open that portion by November, most of the traffic will be able to flow between the two villages. If not, it is going to be an interesting traffic jam.
But the rest of the street -- the portion up by the bars and whorehouses -- is going to have to wait until the rainy season is over and the water table starts to subside. At the moment, it looks a bit like Venice.
I am glad I got out today. I have some good news from the post office. But that will wait for another day.
At least, my hermit stage is at an end.
If they open that portion by November, most of the traffic will be able to flow between the two villages. If not, it is going to be an interesting traffic jam.
But the rest of the street -- the portion up by the bars and whorehouses -- is going to have to wait until the rainy season is over and the water table starts to subside. At the moment, it looks a bit like Venice.
I am glad I got out today. I have some good news from the post office. But that will wait for another day.
At least, my hermit stage is at an end.
Whorehouses? (I looked it up. One word, not two, as you wrote.) Doesn't your Mama read this blog? My mama is dead, but were she to read my website, I would have written brothel or house of ill repute. But whorehouses?
ReplyDeleteWe tell it like it is, but we do not, apparently, spell it like it is.
ReplyDeleteMy mother is a western woman. Blunt descriptions do not shock her.
cool! We haven't been that way in weeks because of the construction, we usually come in on Reforma to get to Villa Obregon. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteIt had been three days since I took a look.
ReplyDeletefriends that have lived here a long time call this street "whorehouse row" because of the strip joints. One of them, Bar Siboney, is quite popular with the snow birds, as they have afternoon and early evening transvestite shows during the winter season. Very entertaining....
ReplyDeleteSlow or not, they are doing beautiful work.
ReplyDeleteThey do marvelous works with the pavers. And they are easier to repair than pavement when the inevitable subsiding occurs during the rainy season.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the Paris Commune reference. I will now be humming tunes from Les Misérables all afternoon. Which is okay.
ReplyDeleteIt is my Victor Hugo stage.
ReplyDeleteAhhh yes, the Salem Slide..
ReplyDeleteSalem could learn a lot about roads from some of these contractors.
ReplyDeleteSee, Felipe. I am just reflecting local color.
ReplyDeleteI know it was an earlier rebellion but they had barricades too.
ReplyDeleteHumm, that explains why people are willing to sweat on the beach, sweat inside, while having a back rub, eh?
ReplyDeleteAnd any barricade will do for a nice hum.
ReplyDeleteThis time of year is rather brutal when it comes to weather.
ReplyDeleteYou - the roll of hermit - indeed. We vote you the most git-around gringo in Mexico. Maybe you just needed a slight lull in the action.
ReplyDeleteI suppose it has something to do with living a single life. A partner will keep you home more. Just saying....
And then what would I post?
ReplyDeleteTwo seasons ago we returned in early September. Two weeks into it I made my husband drive us to Melaque just so we could use the AC in the truck! Last year when we returned in Sept we found our road completely washed out and it remained that way until October when we the rains had stopped and we paid to have the road fixed. No big construction here in La Manzanilla....yet.
ReplyDeleteBut you were way ahead of us getting the main drag through La Manzanilla paved. I need to get over there to see how it held up in this year's rains.
ReplyDelete