January 16, 2011 — Breakfast excitement

January 16, 2011 — Most exciting breakfast

Oh, I was so smart to come here! It was tough a few times for a few minutes, but this place happies me up like you wouldn't believe. I walked down for a late breakfast this morning to a very full room. Lots of families with Mexicans outnumbering Americans. I was offered a secluded table in the corner but near the malecon. I was eagerly beginning to eat a bowl of yogurt and fruit sprinkled with granola. All of a sudden everyone in that part of the room lunged forward toward the open arches that look out on the malacon, the beach and the blue waters of the Bay of Banderas. It could only mean one thing. Whales! In all the years we've been coming here, this is the first time I've seen whales frolicking in this bay in such numbers. Huge whales, cruising on the surface and breeching like I've only seen in movies.

I had cried for a bit during my shower out of sadness. But I found myself weeping tears of joy over this remarkable event. I had begun feeling glad to be there when I first sat down near the northern wall by a little shrine with a ceramic bird located on the top of an arch in the rock work. Two very black starlings perched by the fake bird, speaking loudly to each other and then another one flew swiftly overhead, from one end of the room to the other. Then came the whales. Such a moment for humans and other animals existing together in this festive, good natured congregation. Totally exhilarating.

One of the waiters insisted on moving me and my food to a table with a better view. I think of this restaurant as the house with a thousand waiters. They are so watchful for your every need and bring you things like green tea and cinnamon and honey, wearing giant smiles and sparkling eyes. The room was buzzing with chatter between staff and guests alike. Everyone oohing and ahing and pointing and explaining the locations out to each other like human GPS locaters. The room was like one big family, feasting with satisfaction and camaraderie.

Skip would have loved this scene. Maybe he was seeing it better than I. Seeing the evening's entertainment last night reminded me of the times we watched the traditional dancers there in years past, dressed to the nines in costumes from the north, from Chiapas, from Veracruz and lastly and most proudly, from Jalisco. The women wear beautiful full skirts with ruffles and flounces made of lovely fabrics and laces. that are special to the area. The men begin the evening in all white with accent colors at the neck and around their waists. They finish with tight black pants sporting some fancy couched white designs running down the outer leg. I've seen their acts multiple times and it always makes me smile. Always, that is, except for when two men come out with live cocks and do a little pretend fight. It's not heavy weight stuff, but some feathers fly and it still puts a bit of a damper on things for a few minutes. Then comes the man who does an amazing act with a twirling rope. It's is so "out there" in terms of skill that I can hardly describe it. He turns that rope into a live lariat, snaking, flying, crawling and swirling. Toward the end he is jumping through his rope creations with rapid fire movement and without flaw. It all reminds me of seeing a mini Cerc de Soleil. ( Excuse my questionable spelling)

While sitting out on the balcony watching kids playing ball in the pool and generally enjoying the scene, I heaved a sigh of relief. I had been keeping my eye out for the two iguanas that have been here as long as I can remember. They live all over the lower roofs, visible from our room and sometimes travel to the terraces belonging to the suites across the courtyard. I had been concerned about them and meant, but forgot to ask about them. I saw them moving across the lower red tile roof just a few minutes ago. So comforting to see all the players still doing their part.

I'm off for a little walk along the malecon and will take a turn for a while along the shore so I can dip my feet in the waters of this lovely bay. The sights will be pretty much as they are every day but after a few minutes the nuances always begin to show their face. I never tire of that.