Tag Archives: retire mexico

Belize – Amazing Race Style

5 Jun

Lisa and I are big Amazing Race fans. We even applied once with a stellar video, but never got the call. On Thursday we crossed the border from Mexico into Belize. It’s a good thing we held onto the taxi. They wouldn’t let us in!

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Our Belizian taxi driver who helped us get from the border to Belize City.

Lisa’s mom is visiting Mexico on a 180 day tourist visa which is about to expire. We decided that a vacation to Belize would allow her to leave the country and start another 180 days ticking. We hired a dog sitter to stay with Luna. Off we went.

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Pick up point, a lovely hostel in Bacalar.

After boarding a bus in Bacalar, we settled in for the drive to Chetumal and then across the border to Belize City, where we would catch a water taxi to Caye Caulker for some island snorkeling. Sounded like a plan.

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“Adios” from Lulu at the Quetzal Hostel

We arrived at the Belizean border and hit a snafu. They wouldn’t let us in! We went round and round with the woman wearing the badge behind the glass box. She refused us entry into Belize because we didn’t have confirmed hotel reservations (hotels are always cheaper when booked in person). Our bus driver tried to help, but eventually left us at the border.

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Lisa and her mom about to board the water taxi to Caye Caulker, BZ

A supervisor looked at our passports and confirmed that we could NOT enter Belize with Alice’s soon-to-expire visa. He directed us to return immediately to Mexico to get an extension.

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Boat ride to Caye Caulker off the coast of Belize in the Caribbean.

In true Amazing Race style, Lisa ignored his directive and went back to the original agent and apologized. We would get the hotel reservation she requested, which we did. AND SHE LET US THROUGH! Apparently there is no communication at the border, surprise, surprise.

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View from our hotel balcony. You can see the Caribbean in the distance.

As I write this we are still in Belize. To our knowledge, no All Points Bulletin has been issued for three “older women” trying to overthrow the government. No security risk here. The trick of course is to get Alice BACK into Mexico. I guess we’ll cross that border when we come to it. To be continued…DOS TORTAS

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Mother-in-Law Adventure

29 May

I’ve been wanting to take my MIL to Mahahual since she arrived to live with us in December. It’s an hour and half drive to the Caribbean coast, around the top of Laguna Bacalar, here in the southern-most part of Mexico.

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From Bacalar we traveled around the Laguna to the yellow square that is Mahahual.

A friend gifted us a night in a hotel which was the perfect opportunity to pack an overnight bag and catch a one pm. shuttle from Bacalar.

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Porto Coral on the beach.

Mahahual used to be a sleepy little village. The addition of a huge pier to accommodate cruise ships changed everything.

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We cruised the malecon, pedestrian walkway, lined with restaurants, vendors and shops. Alice, who lives to shop was in heaven.

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A creative way to display glass hearts for sale.

We found Restaurante Las Chiquitas on Trip Advisor and had a lovely dinner.

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And then there was breakfast on the beach the following morning.

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The town is pretty deserted when the cruise ships are not in port.

It was just the right amount of time for people-watching, swimming, eating and shopping. A perfect bonding trip for Alice and me. Catching the combi (shuttle) was easy. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day we find a note on Alice’s door that says “gone to Mahahual, back whenever”. DOS TORTAS

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I’m Not A Hugger

22 May

I distinctly remember the first time I saw my oldest brother hug my father. We were not a demonstrative family and I bolted upright in surprise. There were few hugs or I love you’s after about ten years old. While the embrace shook my world, it was the 70’s and I chalked it up to the times.

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My youngest brother on the left, died of brain cancer in 2000. Oldest (of 4) on right.

Fast forward many years and I now live in Mexico, the land of huggers. It is not uncommon to be introduced to a stranger and have them embrace you and plant a kiss on your cheek. BTW, you are now family.

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Alice living the good life in Mexico.

Speaking of family, I have been adjusting to life with my mother-in-law Alice who moved to Bacalar in December. She has also been adjusting to life with me. Not only does hugging not come naturally, nor does “please, thank you or I’m sorry”. I was raised a Yankee and I can be bristley, a lot;  in other words, I’m a pain in the ass.

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Visiting Palenque.

I am also teachable. I’ve asked Lisa to point out a missed opportunity to be softer, gentler, kinder. That goes for all of you too my friends. A hug or a kick in the pants can sometimes be the same thing. DOS TORTAS

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Rocks In My Head

8 May

When I was a kid, I grew up living on a trout stream in New Jersey called Spruce Run. It was shallow and ambled throughout Central Western Hunterdon County. My siblings and I spent many hours building dams. Hot vacation days involved stacking rocks to raise the water higher than our knees so that we could swim in the summer and ice skate in the winter.

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A painting of our 200 year old farm house in NJ. An anniversary gift for my parents made by a family friend.

When my mother died, I took her ashes to New Jersey to sprinkle in the stream behind where our house used to be. She loved it there. I hadn’t been home in years since the house was destroyed by fire.

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Rest in peace Mom.

Lisa and I currently live on the shore of beautiful Laguna Bacalar in Southern Mexico. Some days I have to pinch myself that we’re living the life we created.  To walk into the Laguna to launch the kayak or swim means a painful stumble over a rocky bottom.

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This week Luna (our dog) and I were playing in the water and I mindlessly began moving rocks to try and create a pebble beach that would be easier on the feet and paws. I was immediately flooded with childhood memories. Sitting in the water moving rocks. Life doesn’t get any sweeter.

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My dad’s favorite picture of my mom. She was twenty-something.

Happy Mother’s Day all. DOS TORTAS

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Drama, Drama, Drama

1 May

Adventures can be unexpected and come in all shapes and sizes. But must they include drama? This week I was taking Princesa Luna to the veterinarian in Bacalar. She has a rash and scratches persistently. Luna loves Dr. Joel. He gets eye to eye with her on the exam table and she just wants to lick his face off.

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In the middle of the exam, his assistant came in to tell me that the tire on my Ford 150 was going flat. Oh no! I left Luna on the table and ran out to the truck in a panic, to hear a telling hisssssss.

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My name-sake. Tire Mechanic and Car Wash Alex

I knew if I didn’t get to the llantera (tire shop) fast, I’d be tasked with changing a truck tire. I have changed many tires over the years. I can do it, I’d just rather not. Returning to the vet’s office, I was in a tailspin. He looked me softly in the eye and said, “tranquilo” (be calm), that he would keep Luna and I should go take care of the tire.

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I flew for the nearest tire shop several blocks away and was glad to see an empty bay. Eric greeted me and set out to expertly change my tire.

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The Waiting Room

I believe it didn’t take ten minutes to produce the nail that was the culprit, patch the tire and put it back on the truck. The cost? About $3.50 US and about five years off my life.

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Service With A Smile

Going into fear and drama over some perceived problem is a bad habit of mine. I would have been inconvenienced by a flat tire but it wouldn’t have been the end of the world. And certainly not worth giving up my peace and happiness. Life in Mexico is much less stressful than in the US. But as the old saying goes, “wherever you go, there you are.” So what drama have you participated in lately? Remember, “tranquilo“.

DOS TORTAS

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Now Is As Good A Time As Any

24 Apr

Did you ever have a plan, idea or project that you put off until the time was right? I had LOTS of them. Retiring and moving to Mexico was going to give me the opportunity to raise from the dead all the things I loved to do but didn’t have time for in the crazy work-life I lived in Austin, Texas. One of them was sewing.

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I am not particularly good at sewing. I haven’t owned or touched a machine in years. But I grew up in an era where ‘Home Ec’ was a requirement in high school, for girls that is. Along with typing, it was the most practical course I ever took.

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Pretty Baby, a tap routine.

My mom sewed because I danced. Three year-old’s dance classes had recitals and recitals required costumes. Moms made them, at least mine did. There were sequins, satin, fringe and marabou feather trim. She spent hours at the sewing machine.

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Little Red Monkey costume edged in marabou that itched like hell.

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Notice the Shirley Temple curls. My mother tried so hard.

There was also the requisite apron I made in Girl Scouts. Not until high school did I start making simple shorts and dresses, mostly to save money. I learned on my mother’s Singer and later bought a Kenmore that I used to make clothes for my kids. By the time sewing began its comeback in the new millennium, I was up-to-my-eyeballs in family and job. Sewing was added to the back burner for “someday when I retire”.

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Girl Scout Brownie Salute

While prepping for the move to Bacalar Mexico, I bought a great little portable machine to enhance my retirement life. It has lots of bells and whistles and is light as a feather. I took it out of the box for the first time this week. Time to take this baby for a spin! It’s been in storage along with the rest of my life for three years. What is on YOUR back burner? DOS TORTAS

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My new Brother portable.

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It’s Noisy In The Jungle

17 Apr

Living forty feet from beautiful Laguna Bacalar, thirty minutes from the southern-most border of Mexico and Belize has its disadvantages, not many, but one in particular. It’s noisy, with screechy birds, and the neighbors.

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Neighbors To The South

Sound travels without buffer over the water. We can hear the conversation on a boat out on the lake from quite a far distance. Strange voices make the dogs go ballistic, barking and being the guard dogs that they think they are. The music from the neighbors can also seem like it’s in our bedroom. Thank God for earplugs.

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Princesa Luna, Intrepid Guard Dog with a Big Voice

It doesn’t help that we live in a concrete bunker and sound bounces and echoes throughout the house. It’s beautiful but a bunker. Rugs help, but not much.

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The Hammock – My Favorite Spot

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Large Windows and Doors for Air-Circulation (no air conditioning)

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The View From the Laguna

For three days this week we’ve been listening to the roar of chainsaws. They seemed close, but it’s hard to approximate with just sound. Yesterday we were in a near panic. Who is tearing up the jungle to pave paradise and put up a parking lot?

I finally walked to the end of our dock with my binoculars. To my surprise and relief there were guys making repairs to the dock that belongs to our neighbor two lots south of us. Such relief.

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Checking Out the New Dock With Neighbor and Fellow Kayaker Teresa

The inconvenience of birds, a party to which we were not invited, barking dogs and the rare sound of chainsaws is not unique to living in Mexico. We bump into each other as humans in so many ways. For the most part, I’m just fine with it. Thank God for earplugs. DOS TORTAS

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Some Things Just Don’t Translate

10 Apr

When I went to school in the 1970’s in Cholula MX, I lived with a rather poor family who rented rooms to students. One day I came home for lunch and to my dismay, found the teething toddler gnawing happily on a boiled chicken foot.

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If you go to the mercado to purchase a whole chicken, the bag usually includes the feet and sometimes the head. While that is a significant ewww for me, the dogs have no problem with it.

There are two words in Spanish for feet. Pie (pee ay) is for human feet and pata (pah tah) means animal feet or the feet of a chair. Once my friends George and Sandy went all over the market asking for “pie de pollo (chicken). People thought they were a bit loco.

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There is a new restaurant in Bacalar that we’ve been dying to try, Pata de Perro, Foot of the Dog. They opened a lovely second story patio overlooking the town square. I had hoped to try their food before writing the blog, but that didn’t happen. Reports are promising.

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I do my best to eat a plant-based diet, but chicken is the primary food in this neck of the woods. Most people raise and slaughter their own chickens and occasional pigs as well. They have to be healthier running around the yard than the poor caged creatures eaten in the states.

We eat mostly at home since the availability of vegetables in restaurants is not much different in Mexico than in the U.S. It is fun trying new restaurants. I will feature them from time to time. Have a great week. DOS TORTAS

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A Funeral For Myself

27 Mar

I learned how to knit at age six or seven. My mother learned from her mother and on up the line of Irish women who’s lives depended, in one way or another on mastering the skill.

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I Love Making Baby Socks

Over the years I have perfected my skills, spent hours making socks, scarves, hats and more hats. Knitting needles have been an extension of my hands and a serious part of my identity.

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Baby Hunter Wearing One of Grandma’s Hats

When packing my “stash” to accompany me to Mexico, I couldn’t image finding the soft wools and alpaca yarns that I cherished. As it was, I gave away bags and bags of yarn at the garage sales that were our weekend activities as we prepared for our move to Bacalar.

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A Fraction of My Yarn Collection

It has taken us two and a half years to build and inhabit our house in the tropical climate along the shore of Laguna Bacalar. During that time, my boxes of yarn and needles have been tucked away in storage only to be opened this week.

As I fondly handled my soft, delicate yarns and needles, I burst into tears. I am no longer THAT person. I do not need to de-stress with the meditative clicking of needles after a long day at a boring government job. My attire no longer includes a differently knotted scarf every day worn in an air conditioned office. I can barely stand to wear a scarf in this climate, even on the coolest day.

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Our Front Entrance in Bacalar MX

I was not prepared for how this whole experience, retiring, moving and now living in Mexico would change me. I’m not saying that I’ll never knit again. That would be silly.

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Hibiscus Blooming in the Yard, After a Brief Shower

How do you define yourself? What if you lost a particular interest or capacity? Giving up my identity as a knitter came as an unexpected shock. I wonder what other surprises life has for me. The tears lasted a few minutes and the funeral took place in my head. I am so grateful for my life. Here’s to the new me that is changing every day. DOS TORTAS

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A Tiny House in Mexico

13 Mar

We have had two days with spotty electricity. There have been blown fuses, and well it’s a long boring story. So instead, I’ll share pictures of Lisa’s mother’s house. 

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A casita on the property.

When we decided to move to Mexico, Lisa and I discussed bringing her mother to live with us.  We brought her to Bacalar on vacation in February 2014 to see if it would be something she would consider. (See blog archives). She was all in!

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Lovely patio with fountain and stairs to the roof

Little did she know that it would take two years to move into her little house.

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About three hundred square feet, she has one bedroom and a spacious porch.

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Lots of niches for her collections

Bathtubs are not common in Mexico, but Alice wanted a small tub.

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Custom Made by Our Builder David

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Mexican tile bathroom

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Talavera sink

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A small kitchen

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The view from her bedroom

Being close by, Alice feels safe and has us to visit. She has been having fun fixing up her little house and planting a garden. We are going kayaking next week if the wind stays calm. She is having a blast.

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Path to our house and the laguna

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