puerto vallarta, mexico.
It's been a year today since Ali and I entered Mexico this time around. Her coming in almost eight months pregnant with Ouest in hand, and me sailing down the coast of Baja.
I read a blog posting by some South Pacific cruisers the other day that talked about how every time they get together with other boaters that left from Mexico they end up talking about nothing but Mexico. They all miss it. The great people, the fish tacos, the cheap beer, the laid back way of life. I can totally see that happy hour conversation in somebody's cockpit.
It's a year now and I still have no desire to leave. Mexico really is one of the great places on earth. I sometimes feel silly saying that. I mean, it's Mexico, it's our neighbor, not some far off exotic land. I feel like those are the places I should love the most. Somewhere that nobody I know has ever been. Like I should be living in Sri Lanka, raving about the surf, the rotti, the friendly locals, and the cheap beer, but instead I'm just a four hour flight from where I grew up. No matter though, I love it here. It may only be exotic to those without a passport who are glued to the nightly news' stories of drug cartels vying for American business, but to us it is the only place we want to be right now.