From December 2021

This is the final post from our excursion to San Sebastian del Oeste from Puerto Vallarta.  Once we exited the bus, we were on our own to explore this mountaintop village.

It's a quaint little town, but I would rather have been refining my tortilla-making technique at the little roadside bakery. Things were completely shut down here for about a year during the pandemic, and we got the feeling that the damage to business was considerable.  This part of the excursion was anticlimactic, but it was still fun to walk around.

After an hour of wandering, it was time for the long ride back down the mountain to Puerto Vallarta.  We made it back in time for dinner and sunset.

 From December 2021

Blue Agave

 

Julia's sister lives close to the Bourbon Trail in Kentucky, so we have "hiked" that trail on numerous occasions during annual visits to see family. When I drink good bourbon, I like to have it with some ice to open up its flavors.  I also like a Manhattan or Old-fashioned made with bourbon.

I've had shots of tequila that I choked down, and I've had some margaritas made with tequila that taste pretty darn good.  In college, we drank something called a Brave Bull, made with tequila and kahlua.  But I've never enjoyed tequila on the rocks or straight up.  

I've heard of sipping tequila, but I had yet to be convinced that there was such a thing.  On the excursion to San Sebastian, we stopped at a blue agave farm and tequila distillery.  All of the tequila made here is sold on-site and made from pure blue agave. You can't buy this tequila at any liquor store.  You have to buy it here, and it sells out every year.

When I first stepped into the distillery, it was like walking into the 19th Century.  This is a very basic, primitive operation.  No glitzy powerpoint or shiny copper.  This family-owned operation has been making tequila this way for many generations.

agave mash

 

the still

Through the tour, the distillery employee reminded us that this tequila is not made for shots or margaritas.  "Go buy Jose Cuervo, if you want that," he scoffed.  "Our tequila is made to be sipped in small quantities and enjoyed on its own."  

I was thinking, "yeah, right.  Good marketing."  Then he brought out their Tequila Blanco, their least expensive and least-aged tequila.  It was still about $40/bottle.  Hmm, pretty good.  Better than any tequila that I've had before.  

 Next, he brought out two more bottles, the reposado and the viejo.

 

The reposado is aged for about a year in oak barrels and was about $60.  "That's some serious cash," I thought.  Then I sipped it and understood why.   It was so smooth and flavorful that I didn't want to add any ice or water or mixer or anything to it.  This tequila shone on its own.  

I could tell you that the $80 viejo (aged) tequila was even better, but I would be lying.  It was good, but it burned a little (higher alcohol content) and wasn't my favorite.  

We bought a bottle of the reposado and still have most of it in the liquor cabinet.  Every once in awhile, we pour a small sip to remind ourselves of the good times that we had in Puerto Vallarta.  

 

I've visited coffee plantations on previous travels to Costa Rica and Jamaica but never previously in Mexico.  Mexican coffee, particularly from the Chiapas region, has always held a special place in my heart.  When coffee was just a hobby for me, I had an internet friend from Alaska who would go to Chiapas each year and bring back coffee beans from area farmers, which he would then roast in his Alaskan pizza oven setup.  He mailed me five pounds of these raw beans. It was some of the best coffee that I've ever tried.

When I roasted professionally, I kept Mexican coffee beans in stock for two reasons.  One, I loved the flavor profile.  Two, it was the least expensive high-quality arabica coffee that I could find--often less than $2/lb for green in 152 lb bags.   I sold two different roasts:  a lightly roasted-bean that was marketed as Mexican Altura and an dark-oily bean that was marketed as French Roast (known internally as BBB for badly burn beans).  

The coffee plantation that we visited in the San Sabastian area was quite basic.  Here, an employee is grinding the coffee beans with a belt-driven grinder.

The owner is selling roasted coffee to us gringo tourists. His family has been growing coffee here for five generations.

As soon as the line died down, I asked him if he could sell me a kilo of green (raw) coffee beans.  He nodded and then disappeared for a long time in the back.  The price was half the price of roasted--a reasonable deal.  

When I went to roast the coffee back home, the preparation was not as clean as what I'm used to.  There were small amounts of debris mixed in with the green beans.  However, the lightly roasted coffee was delicious. 

 From December 2021

Towards the end of our Puerto Vallarta trip, I reluctantly gave Julia permission to book an excursion into the mountains.  In my mind, I was thinking of past sightseeing bus tours, where you get out, take a few photos in a crowd of tourists, and move back into the bus for the next stop.  

This excursion turned out much better than that, and I'm glad that I let Julia talk me into it.  Things started out well when Julia called the excursion company and asked if there were any spots left for the tour on the next day to San Sebastian del Oeste.  The guy said that there were exactly two unfilled spots left on the tour.  If we could get to the pickup spot at a nearby hotel early the next morning, he would let us come along for $50/each (reduced from $85/each).  

We had no idea what to expect from the tour, except that it was supposed to include a coffee plantation, a tequila tasting, and a self-guided tour at the mountain village of San Sebastian del Oeste.  We had an early morning espresso near the pickup spot and soon saw three other couples waiting to be picked up.  Our tour operators were late.  This is Mexico and to be expected.

 

Eventually, a tour bus arrived, and the driver urged us all on.  However, just before leaving, he discovered that we weren't the people he was supposed to pick up.  We all got back off.  I'm not sure where the driver  would have taken us if he hadn't discovered the mistake.

Ten minutes later, a smaller bus/large van arrived on the opposite side of the street with a driver and a guide.  This was our ride.  We stopped at several other hotels along the beach on the way out of town and picked up  a few other couples.  

Then, the driver took us several hours up into the mountains.   The guide talked to us informally along the way, pointing out areas of interest, including new developments in the jungle that might appeal to northerners looking for lower priced, new homes.  The developments were lovely but would be a very different experience than Puerto Vallarta.

Our first stop was at a roadside bakery. 

 

Here we learned how to make tortillas the traditional way.

 

It isn't as easy as you might think.  The trick is to get the raw form to the grill in one whole flat piece.  It's a hand-on process, including flipping the tortilla with your fingers on the hot griddle.  No liability waivers needed in this part of the world.

the tricky part

After our lesson, we had pastries and coffee made by the professionals.  

 Our next stop would be a coffee plantation.

 

 From December 2021

The trail generally followed the bluffs along the Pacific Ocean.  Eventually, however, we came out on a longer beach, and the path followed the rocks along the water. 

Las Animas itself was a little bit of a disappointment to me.  It was a nice beach and had the typical restaurants/bars.  

 

But I thought the trail had the best scenery.  From Animas,  Julia stuck out a thumb, and we hitched a ride back to Boca on a water taxi.

After the bus ride home, we dined on tacos al pastor.

The pork is roasted on a spit with a chunk of pineapple on top of the spit, dripping sweet juices on to the meat.

 From December 2021

Most of the "walking around" in Puerto Vallarta is flat, especially on the Malecon which is the paved walkway next to the beach. As a person walks away from the beach and towards the foothills, that quickly changes.  One of my favorite hikes, which I did most mornings, was to the top of Mirador el Cerro de la Cruz or more simply, Mirador or Lookout.

The final modern staircase to the top is easily seen from all around the city.  This is the view from the religious shrine, El Cerro de la Cruz (Cross on the Hill) which is slightly higher and behind the lookout.

 

 

The path to get there is a little more tricky and involves winding up steep, narrow streets and stairs in working class neighborhoods, which included a sprinkle of gringos who found the more economic tourist stays.

 

The last stretch is the real workout.  It's short but very, very steep.  If I ever move to this city, I would hike that ascent every single day that I could to stay in shape.  It's a heart-pounder.  

After a couple of days, Julia got bored/tired of climbing the Mirador.  I loved it.  If the hike didn't take my breath away, the view did.  

I tried to get all of my steps and hiking in during the mornings.  Julia and I always met back up for happy hour at the condo pool during the late afternoon.

A cold beer in the shade

For most tourists visiting Puerto Vallarta, it’s all about the beach.  From the southern beaches in the Romantica Zona, it’s possible to walk continuously north along the beach for miles. When one tires of walking on sand, the Malecon (a boardwalk) just along the beach offers respite.

After checking into my hotel at 3 pm., I sauntered the beach and the streets close to the beach until 6 or 7 pm.  Drinks and food are much more expensive along the beach.  Just a few blocks away, I was able to find carne asada (marinated steak) tacos for less than a buck and bottles of beer for a dollar or two.  Vendors were glad to take American dollars or pesos, but better prices were available with pesos after exchanging currency at a bank near my hotel (19 pesos/dollar).





After the sun went down, entertainment started up in the bars close to my hotel.  Options varied from American-style rock bands playing Sweet Home Alabama to traditional mariachi to drag shows.  I hung out for awhile listening to the southern rock while sipping Pacifica beers.   Later, I had to eat a couple of more delicious tacos from a street vendor.  Suffering a bit from lack of sleep and a slight buzz, I turned in early.  My hotel bed was very firm.  I woke up after midnight and could hear the music and nightlife hitting its stride.

After a good night’s sleep, I jumped out of bed at 6 a.m., took a shower, and headed out into the streets in search of a good cup of coffee.  Not much was open so I hiked up the beach to the fishing pier. (most of the images on this page are clickable for larger images with more detail)



Several locals were fishing with rigs consisting of a spool of line, hook and bait (no pole).  I didn’t see anyone catch anything except for this gentlemen with a net, and he may have been netting baitfish.



 
I was now ready for a good cup of coffee, and I didn’t have to walk far.




A Page in the Sun is a really nice coffeeshop just a block or two up from the beach .  The coffee was roasted a tad darker than my preference, but it was well prepared and flavorful.  (Address:  Lázaro Cárdenas #179 Col. Emiliano Zapata). I only tried the brewed coffee but all typical specialty coffee drinks were available.

Cup of goodness in hand, I headed north on my planned day-long hike.  My goal was to hike to the Marina, located in north Puerto Vallarta and is where the cruise ships dock.  At first, I strolled along the Malecon (a beach boardwalk) where there was abundant public art and people watching opportunities.




During these early morning hours, I watched hotel and restaurant staff getting ready for the day.  Young women were squeezing oranges for orange juice.  Young men climbed trees for fresh coconut.  If you look closely among the branches of the tree on the left, you will see the latter. That falling branch nearly clipped me.




After living on tacos and beer the previous day, I was getting hungry, so I stopped for breakfast.



This is machaca, shredded beef and eggs, served with potatoes, tortillas, salsa, and jalapeño peppers. The food was excellent, except the potatoes which had an odd off-flavor.  The coffee was horrible, which was not unexpected.  This was a local place (Spanish spoken only), and the best coffee beans are either exported or used at specialty coffeeshops like a Page in the Sun referenced above.

After breakfast, I continued walking another five miles to the Marina, where the Grand Princess was parked. Along the way, I passed mostly luxury hotels, but there were interesting, diverse scenes along the way.





After reaching the cruise ship, I stopped for lunch and a beer. 


The sun was growing hot, so I took my time on the return hike.  Upon reaching the hotel, I was ready for a quick nap and shower before heading back to the beach for my second and last night.

As I walked along the shore, I marveled at the blending of sea, sky, and land at dusk.






Next, I  heard a performer singing an Eagle’s song nearby (“Lying Eyes). I walked into the nearby hotel bar to hear the song, sat down, and order a mojito. The singer was just ending his musical set as my drink arrived.  As soon as he stepped down from the stage, probably a dozen people stopped him to take photographs and get hugs.

As I stared at the scene, one of his fans stopped by my table and asked if I knew who the singer was.  “No idea,” I replied.  “That’s one of the original guys from the 70’s band Steely Dan,”  he replied. Growing up listening to Steely Dan songs, “Deacon Blues,” “Josie”, and “Black Cow”, I was impressed.



Unfortunately, he didn’t sing any Steel Dan tunes, but the covers he did sing were pretty good.  An hour later, with my expensive mojito gone, I wandered  five or six blocks inland where I could again buy inexpensive steak tacos and beer.  My legs were tired from the earlier long hike and climbing up to my fifth floor hotel room several times during the day.  I slept like a baby on Saturday night.

I needed to be in a taxi to the airport by 8:30 a.m. for the flight home.  Before I left Puerto Vallarta, I had time for one more cup of coffee  at a Page in the Sun.  I then stopped at a local diner for a breakfast of  chilaquiles verdes:  hot green peppers, eggs and fried tortillas, washed down with orange juice squeezed in front of me right after I ordered.

My Puerto Vallarta journey was short and very sweet.  The trip home was uneventful.

Most of the travel on this blog has been of the local variety; however, that changed late last week.

My wife Julia is leaving for Arizona this next  weekend to spend two weeks with her mother who is having surgery.  That means I will have three weeks as my son’s sole caregiver.  A teen in a power wheelchair  knows how to push a parent’s buttons, so Julia offered this past weekend to travel solo as I wish in compensation.  I usually go backpacking within a four hour drive when presented with such an opportunity.  But I started playing around on the last minute travel web sites, and found a super cheap non-stop flight from Chicago to Puerto Vallarta, leaving early Friday morning and returning Sunday night.  I grabbed the last  seats on the flights both ways, and I was off to the races in planning.

Now would be a good time to discuss my individual travel style.  There are many different ways to travel; there is no right way.  Different strokes for different folks.  Some people like to stay in expensive beach hotels. Here are a few, which were five blocks from my $40 hotel.




Other people like to relax, eat and drink on a cruise ship that only stops for a partial day at the ports of call.  Below is the Grand Princess of Princess Cruise Lines, docked at the marina during my stay in Puerto Vallarta.



Still other people only dabble their toes in foreign waters, preferring to keep the same amenities found back home.  Puerto Vallarta offers such amenities.





My own travel style is a frugal one. I spend as little money as possible on the mechanism of travel and lodgings.  My preference is to experience as much as the local culture as possible, especially when it comes to coffee, beer, and food. My favorite mode of travel is walking whenever possible.

On Thursday night, I drove down to Chicago, close to the airport, where I had booked an $11 room at Motel 6.  This was made possible by my son’s affinity for T-mobile Tuesday deals, which happened to be a $30 Travelocity coupon. While fitting my frugal travel style, I may have pushed the envelope.  I slept only a little. The couple above my room screamed at each other until 3 a.m. I’m pretty sure the conversation involved money, drugs, and/or prostitution. Eventually, I just got up, showered and was ready to go before my alarm went off at 4 a.m. to catch my early morning flight.
Air travel to Puerto Vallarta went off without a hitch.  Although I was booked on a full plane, the aisle seat went unoccupied.  I slid over from my middle seat and had room to stretch and sleep.  Upon landing on time after a 4 1/2 hour flight, customs and luggage pickup went quickly and without incident.  After clearing customs, arriving passengers negotiate through two rooms full of timeshare salespeople/sharks who are there to “help” you.  Having been warned by prior accounts, I refused eye contact and briskly walked my way to the airport front door, where I found warm temperatures and an outdoor bar.

It was noon and time for a Modelo Negra, a Munich dunkel style lager brewed in Mexico.  My hotel check-in wasn’t until 3 pm., so I had some time to kill.  An airport taxi would have taken me to my hotel  for 600 pesos (about $34).  Alternatively,  trip reports on the internet advised that I could walk across the pedestrian bridge in front of the airport for about a 50% discount.

Of course, I was in no rush, so I asked my bartender for directions to the even cheaper city bus.  He told me to turn left in front of the airport and take any bus marked “Centro.”  I walked about 100 yards to the bus stop and asked the bus driver in Spanish if the bus route went by the old part of the city.  He nodded yes, so I  paid my 7.5 pesos (less than 50 cents), settling in for the hour ride past the beach and downtown.

During the ride, I followed along with the maps I had printed out. When we reached the old part of the city, I exited with my suitcase.  I had to stop and ask directions from a street vendor because many streets do not have street signs.  I was directed four blocks up and soon arrived at the Hotel Belmar–still two hours before my check-in.  The desk clerk spoke better English than my Spanish and promised to watch my suitcase until the room was ready. I would recommend this hotel to any budget traveler who is not afraid of stairs.  There is no elevator, and there were five flights of stairs to my room.  Here are some views from the hallway outside my interior room.




Suitcase secured, I headed off to walk along the beach.