Guests are like grandchildren, they come for a visit, and then they go home. We certainly enjoy them while they’re here and then we collapse.
My brother and his new bride.
After twenty-two years, they finally tied the knot and came to Bacalar for a honeymoon.
Our friend Michelle took most of the pictures.Lots of sampling of the best of Bacalar cuisine. Mayan fusion at Nixtamal.It was a perfect day to be out on the lake.Captain Blaine, our tour guide.A good time was had by all.
There’s nothing like a Saturday morning spent exploring a little neighborhood mercado. This particular one is a favorite of ours. There are plants blooming, music that makes you want to dance and many food vendors filling the air with their enticing aromas.
From top left, my MIL, a pineapple, bougainvillea and spicy habanero peppers.
One of my favorite things to do is to strike up a conversation with locals. They are so curious about us foreigners and when they find someone who can speak Spanish, the questions come pouring out, especially about current US politics.
My favorite tropical fruit, guanábana aka soursop. Creamy and delicious.Sweet tamale with raisins.
Sampling this tamale brought happy tears to my eyes. Tamales in the tropics are made in banana leaves. These tamales were advertised as estilo de DF or made in the style of central Mexico, cooked in corn husks. They tasted exactly like the ones my Mexican mama made for me to celebrate my twenty-first birthday in 1973. It’s funny how a taste or smell can take you back.
No market day would be complete without a frenchie. This stunning brindle was a bruiser named Thor or in Spanish Tor.
An abundance of color. Papayas and limes.
My mobility is still limited but this was a great way to test my limitations, A really fun morning.
Our trip to Cape Hatteras, North Carolina in 1961 holds the fondest vacation memories for me. An eight and a half hour drive from New Jersey, I don’t know how my parents did it with five kids and my cousin Pat. The NC coast was our destination with its picturesque lighthouse, sand dunes and museum of the Wright Brothers, who got the first airplane off the ground at Kitty Hawk.
1903Keeping sand out of the tent was a full-time job.
My Dad, ever the nature lover, had us up at dawn to take a guided nature walk along the beach, peering into tide pools, collecting shells and tromping through marshlands.
Hatteras Lighthouse
One day we took a ferry to the Outer Banks. We spent the day at the State Park, swimming, building sand castles and getting sun burned. In line for the ferry back to our campsite we discovered that one of two ferries had run aground on a sandbar. We waited for hours, out of drinking water and food, expecting to have been back for dinner.
The ferry present day.
As the afternoon wore on, my mother decided to take the five kids, youngest age three to ride the ferry and walk back to the campground. Dad and brother William (8) were to stay with the car. Sounded like a plan.
Coquina shells found along the Outer Banks beach.
The trouble was, by the time the ferry docked across the bay, and our little troop off loaded, the sun had set, leaving us to navigate a gravel road, in the dark. As children are prone to do, we had left our shoes in the car. My poor mother.
Blue crabs were prolific. My mother’s favorite.
Somehow we made it. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches never tasted so good. Then my mother did something totally amazing, at least to me. She opened a can of grape juice. I’m sure we were all dehydrated but juice was a rare treat in those days. My mother’s job was to save all year and pinch pennies to make our vacation happen. She was the finance person. That night, she doled out grape juice like fine wine.
the adventures of dos tortas 
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