a tale of two mountains

I have but one home. Using that word in its most prosaic form.

The house with no name in Barra de Navidad is the only place I own and the place where I find peace at the center. It is where I feel I belong. I always look forward to walking through the front door -- either with grocery bags or suitcases.

Those of you who have been following my other-induced wanderings since August know that I have been splitting my time between Mexico and Oregon. I would have preferred not to travel during The Virus Clearance Sale Days, but family circumstances involving my mother intervened to cancel my selfish preferences.

It has been a dozen years since I lived in Oregon. I had almost forgotten the natural beauty that a lot of people cherish about the state. Growing up here, I took it for granted -- how Oregon looks is how a place should look.

I discovered that was not true when I moved to the little villages by the sea where I now live in Mexico. Mexico has a different type of beauty, but it is pretty in its own way. And I miss the pleasant face of Mexico when I am away.

Travel is one of my great joys in life. And Barra de Navidad is a great hub for indulging in my vice. From my house, I can travel through Mexico touring thousands of interesting places I have not yet seen. And, if I want a broader breadth, Mexico City is a short airplane ride away to fly off to any place in the world.

Those plans, of course, are on hold. The virus struck in the Pacific Northwest in March just as I was ready to board an Emirates flight to Dubai to join a cruise that would start in Singapore and end in Dubai with stops in Thailand, Malaysia, Sri Lanka, India, and Oman. The cruise stops were melting away before the cruise line canceled the trip. But I was ready to fly right up to the cancellation.

Since then, I have been planning road trips inside of Mexico. But Mexico has been suffering through its own restrictions to slow down the virus infections. So, I have decided to live life in my house with limited forays into the countryside -- waiting for the next call that I am needed in Oregon.

One of my joys in life is Mexican history. I like reading it, but, even more, I like standing in the places where that history was created. Imagining what it would have felt like to be one of the people we know next-to-nothing-about standing on the Pyramid of the Sun at Teotihuacan, walk the beach near Veracruz where the Invader Cortés landed with his few troops and fabled horses, or wear General Santa Anna's replacement prosthetic leg (the one in the Chapultepec Castle Museum, not the original in the Illinois State Military Museum).

But those road trips are going to remain on hold until the virus is a bit more under control. Maybe that will happen this year. We shall see. That is my cautious voice speaking.

My less-cautious voice is far more up-beat and creative. It seems to take over whenever I start thinking of places exotic to visit.

Between family chores this week, I talked with my good friends Roy and Nancy to fill out our cruise dance card. We may be a bit optimistic about how quickly the virus can be corralled, but we decided on four cruises during the next three years.

• September 2021: Vancouver to Tokyo
• October 2021: Rome to Fort Lauderdale
• February 2022: Antarctic, Argentina, Uruguay, Falkland Islands, Chile
• February 2023: Cape Town to Dubai

If circumstances work out, that should be an interesting group of tours. For the first two, hotel and flight reservations have already been made.

Until then, I will be content with my beach views in Mexico. Whenever I feel hemmed in, I can dream of those far-ranging trips that are on the calendar. 

For now, though, Mexico and dreams will be good enough for me.