It’s a Rough Life, Visiting Gorgeous Spas in Mexico

Once, while on vacation a few years ago, Brendan looked over at me swinging in a hammock and sipping a beer, and said “you’re so hedonistic when you’re on vacation.”

At the time, I really wasn’t participating in anything all that indulgent, but he was right: I’ll go the extra mile if it involves pleasure and beauty.

Hence, I like getting massages in pretty places. And Mexico is basically perfect for that, no?

The massage last year in Puerto Vallarta during a steamy rainstorm wasn’t so bad, and I enjoyed the Thai Massage at Mision del Sol in Cuernavaca, and I’ll never forget the avocado hair treatment/neck massage at Cabanas Copal…but none of those (nor the others) so far, have topped Ollinyotl Spa in Malinalco, Mexico.

Let’s let the photos speak for themselves:

Circles are the main architecture element at the spa. (You can click all of these for larger versions.)

The entrance to the labyrinth.

Chrissy, who visited us this past week from New York City, went with me to Ollinyotl. We got one-hour Swedish massages for 500 pesos each ($38). Then we sat under the hot Mexican sun in the labyrinth, soaking up the amazing good vibes that emanate from the place. This is definitely a photo to click on to view the large version!

New age-y drum music is piped in, and when you lie on the ground in the labryinth, the sky takes on a fish-bowl perspective. It's transcendent, as silly as it sounds.

They have yoga classes here - right here in the middle - and I hope to take one when we return to Malinalco for Day of the Dead. In the center, it echoes. How great is that for chatting om namah shivaya?

Yours truly in heaven.

Get here before its discovered. We were the only patrons at the spa on a Saturday afternoon. Otherwise, no, I don't normally take so many photos.

Beach After Beach After Beach…and Still Going

In one of my favorite books, “In Search of Captain Zero,” author Allan Weisbecker explains how, for some people, there is nothing quite like being in the exact inexact spot (thanks to tides) where land meets sea. There’s the land, and there’s the sea, but where the two meet…well…what else is more haunting?

“Yeah,” I remember thinking as I read the passage. “Right on, man.”

If not already obvious, it’s a book that appeals to surfers, those who appreciate the surfer lifestyle (<– me), oceanographers/marine biologists or wannabes (yep, me)…and those who grew up on the beach, moved away from the beach, but try to get back often (<– si, si, yo)..

I’ve got lots purty beach photos — hundreds? — from my travels. And I’ve never met a beach I didn’t like, but I’ve grown to love the Pacific Coast the best. It’s the one I now dream about at night, in other words.

Let’s work our way up from the Southern coast of Mexico, all the way up to California, shall we?

Bahia de la Luna, Oaxaca

Mazunte, Oaxaca

Acapulco vista by day (photo by Betty)

Acapulco, later (photo by Dora).

Somewhere in Michoacan

Manzanillo, Colima (and a closed beach umbrella)

Puerto Vallarta, Mexico

La Jolla, California, and its harbor seals (also beach lovers)

The long staircase to the lighthouse, Point Reyes, Calif.

Your host, happy to be here, roots and all, Point Reyes seashore

Way Off the Beaten Path: The Coast of Michoacan, Mexico

House rental in Caleta de Campos, Michoacan

After our trip to Patzcuaro last weekend, we headed southwest to the Pacific Ocean. Sandwiched between the resort areas of Puerto Vallarta and Acapulco, the long, craggy coast of Michoacan is largely undeveloped. It was, so far, one of the most sparsely populated areas I’ve visited in Mexico, especially along the coastline. It is one of the many stretches of Highway 200.

There are a few really good surf spots here,  such as Nexpa, but otherwise the area gets few tourists passing through. Most guidebooks don’t even mention it — even though it consists of more than a hundred miles of beaches. Of course, this piqued my interest – what would it be like?

Turns out, when traveling with a Shih-tzu in a small rental car, this meant good things and bad things.

The beach at Nexpa, a popular "left" point break.

We were able to find a great surfer’s house to rent for a couple of nights in Caleta de Campos, a town big enough to have roasted chicken and cold beer, but not much else (the town, in all honesty, was horridly ugly but had incredible views of the ocean).

If there was one person I wished I could have traded places with during my trip, it was this girl.

Who needs whales when you have a rock with a blowhole? (OK, OK, I need whales...they arrive in the winter, so I always seem to miss them.)

The sun rises behind the lighthouse, Caleta de Campos.

Charlie and I try to cool off, but it was difficult.

The drive was espectactular (but often stomach-churning) and about as remote as it gets. Suddenly a pristine beach would come into view, and you’re several hundred feet above it, watching the waves roll in, and not sure if there’s any real path to the beach from the tiny, two-lane highway that has so little traffic. In the back of your mind, you’re thinking: my car could be robbed while I’m frolicking in the Pacific, unknowingly becoming the lead actress in an American Express Traveler’s Checks commercial. The area is still quite well-known as a drug smuggler’s paradise, mostly due to its remoteness, which is why this paranoid thought kept popping up: Would the smugglers turn Charlie into a mule?

We didn't really see a clear path down to this beach; there may not have been one.

Just a typical view from the road as you drive along Highway 200.

But, as with everywhere in Michoacan, the people were generally friendly. We’re also eternally grateful to two of the state’s residents, who got us out of a really bad scrape. Yep, turistas’ nightmare: We managed to get our car stuck in the shimmering white sand (we were aiming to park in a tiny spot of shade for just a few minutes so we could leave Charlie in the car, if needed, while we walked on a beach). We had a few initial moments of panic when we realized we had driven about 4km from the Highway 200, and hadn’t seen anyone in mucho tiempo.

After assessing that yes, we were indeed f’ing stuck in the sand, we grabbed some metal roofing sheets left on the beach and stuck them under the tires. Then watched them sink under the spinning tires. All while Charlie sat, head tilted, inside, perplexed.

Once this failed to work, my panic manifested as such: I threw all our valuables in the trunk, put Charlie in the front seat so he could be shaded, and forced us to spray down with sunscreen, in case we had to walk miles and miles to civilization. Of course, that was all incredibly unnecessary (whew, whew, sweat-wiping-away wheeeeeeew), as there were a few small houses off the tiny beach road, and two men chatting in the street — one was sitting in a truck, hallelujah!

As we walked up, he waved good-bye to his amigo and started to drive off, causing us to start running, screaming “Senor! senor!”  Once we reached the two men — looking I’m sure like the two goofiest gueros to ever drive through Michoacan — we mustered our best “please, for the love of Maria, help us!…” en espanol as we panted.

Problem solved. They unstuck us, and I even chatted up one of the men about how beautiful the beach was, how badly I had wanted to see it, how Chilangos suck compare to Michoacanos, etc. Of course, once unstuck, we were in no mood to sightsee and we immediately got in the car and hauled ass north to the highway, and to the lovely beach city of Manzanillo, where we stayed two nights before heading home.

Best irony of the moment? It was Playa La Llorona — crying woman’s beach. What we missed. (And you may wonder: Why is it called this? Well, as it turns out, not because of some scary ghost story involving a dead crying woman rising out of the espuma, or a  pale turista lamenting her sand-sunk Dodge Attitude and sunburnt skin, but the cute noise the sand makes.)

Had we not had Charlie in tow with us, (and had we rented a 4×4) we perhaps would have stayed at least one night in one of the uber-rustic cabanas between Caleta de Campos and Manzanillo (perhaps here in Maruata, which I’m now kicking myself for not stopping and visiting), where I imagine we would have felt like the only souls on the planet, under very bright stars. But it would have been incredibly humid, mosquito-prone and we’d pine for cold beer — so we’d only stay for one night.

Manzanillo, where there are hotels, and air conditioning.

Overall, do I recommed this drive? Yes, but be prepared to fill up at every Pemex station you see — there aren’t many. Be prepared to stay in “one-star” lodging. Be prepared to see an extraordinary amount of poverty (wooden shacks, at best, for most people here).  Bring food and snacks for spontanous beach stops, especially if you’re traveling in the off-season when most places are closed. And  for the love of Maria, stay out of the loose sand.

(More on the hidden beaches of Michoacan, en espanol.)

Delightful Isla Mujeres Mexico Rocked My Socks

So before my amiga Sue-Lyn moved back to Chicago this week, we took a quick trip to Isla Mujeres, in the Yucatan. I love spur-of-the-moment trips, especially when they involve perfect turquoise-water-and-white-sand beaches, swimming with whale sharks, and half-off the price of an incredibly fun bed-and-breakfast, Casa Sirena!

I’ve already blabbed about the awesomeness of whale sharks, now it’s time to blab about Isla Mujeres. The little island — only about 7km long — is located off the coast of Cancun, but has somehow escaped the predictable and aggressive tourism found on the mainland. Sure, there are overpriced trinkets and bad food for sale along the island’s most popular beach, Playa Norte, but there’s also a refreshing hippie vibe to the place. (This may have been helped by the fact that many tourists have been scared away from Mexico because of the swine flu, leaving behind people like me, who don’t give a damn. Also, a new pet peeve of mine: Locals who won’t talk in Spanish with me when I visit touristy areas.)

A few Isla Mujeres must-do’s:

1. Eat lunch (I recommend the sopa de lima and shrimp cocktail, with a limonada) and then soak in the pools at zen-inducing Zama Beach Club.

2. After watching a rainstorm roll by, walk to the end of the pier at Zama, and dive in.

3. Rent a golf cart — hands-down the best way to get around the island. The top speed of 20 mph means you’re forced to “take it slow” and take in the sights. Definitely do a loop across the entire island. The windward Caribbean side — with its higher cliffs and land stripped of trees, thanks to all those hurricanes — has a stark beauty all its own. And it’s just sorta absurd to cruise around in a golf cart.

4. If you don’t go visit the whale sharkies (which will probably include a coral reef visit after the swim), then schedule a snorkel trip. There are several options on the island, like the overpriced Garrafon park or the next-door and much cheaper Garrafon de Castilla beach club. It’s a little downtrodden, but for $50 pesos, the price can’t be beat. The reef is pretty beat up in this area, but I did see elk coral, a grouper, barracuda and a huge queen parrotfish.

5. Or, pay a little bit more and take a boat trip to the reef north of the island near Isla Contoy, which is protected and in much better shape.

6. Eat traditional Yucatecan food at El Charco’s, located in the neighborhood where most Isla residents live.

7. Or, if you’d rather just drink beers, swim in calm shallow water (that seems to stretch across all the way to Cancun) and take in a little sun, then head to Playa Norte and rent a couple of beach chairs and an umbrella for 80 pesos or so. You may have to fight off some annoying beach vendors, and the food will be mediocre, but one can’t deny how pretty it is.

Iguanas Everywhere, Just the Way I Like It

In spite of the presence of billions of Canadian tourists, the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico still has lots of live lizards. (Let’s not mention the iguana roadkill I kept spotting last week, nor the several times we had to stop in the middle of the road to let an iguana pass, much to the annoyance of other drivers…)

"Does my butt look big?" This iguana was crawling over the Mayan ruins in Tulum. He could easily eat my dog as an appetizer.

This one has obviously been to Handsome Iguana Modeling School.

This spry little one spent a lot of time trying to scare my sister-in-law. He frequently appeared out of nowhere, claws at the ready.

Another lizard species we spotted often was the gecko. This 6-incher hung around while we drank beers on the patio. Brendan still likes to tell the story of when he first moved to Corpus Christi, Texas. Being a native Minnesotan, he didn't know what these creatures were, and when spotting one in his apartment, smashed it to bits. Since geckos eat mosquites and are otherwise harmless, we South Texans revere our geckos. Although he now admits they are "benevolent creatures," his story is still horrifying.

Fat butt iguana and gecko photos courtesy of Suz Walsh.

Photo Tour: Beautiful Malinalco, Mexico

We spent the long weekend (it was a holiday here on Monday) in Malinalco, Mexico. We rented a house for two nights, and when not reading on the patio, we spent time exploring the local pyramid — picturesquely situated on a hill above town — and buying fresh produce at the market. We also explored an avenue south of town flanked with dozens of trout restaurants — they keep the fish in cages in the stream that runs by the street, and cook them up fresh for you.

A couple enjoys the view from one of the ancient pyramids perched above town.

A tree with pink blossoms stands over the town.

I take in the view (I have to force Brendan to take photos of me, otherwise I am absent from all trip photos.)

Brendan on the many-stepped climb uphill to the pyramids.

The house we rented for the weekend. The dog was in love with it, of course.

Charlie enjoying the warm tile.

The garden is less than two years old. The owner told me there's a saying in lush Malinalco: If it doesn't grow, it's because you didn't plant it.

Our purchases from the town market. You don't want to know how cheap and delicious this produce is.

I am really tempted to try this -- the view must be incredible.

To see more photos from our trip to Malinalco, go to Malinco, Mexico Flickr album.

If you’re interested in renting a house in Malinalco, here’s one.

A Mexico Must-Do: Take a Cooking Class in Oaxaca

I stuff Oaxacan cheese into a flor de calabaza. (Note the apron: It's the only time you'll ever see me wear one!)

While we vacationed in the Mexican state of Oaxaca a few weeks ago, we signed up for a cooking class at Casa Crespo Bed and Breakfast in Oaxaca City –  it was a handy hop, skip and jump from our accommodations at The Hotel Aitana. While I don’t typically associate “cooking” with “vacation” (it just doesn’t sound as good as “vacation” and “swimming in the Pacific”), I can now admit: it was a blast.

In less than 5 hours, we somehow managed to shop at the mercado and prepare no less than 10 dishes: corn tortillas, red salsa, passionfruit salsa, passionfruit juice, quesadillas with pumpkin flowers, black bean soup, stuffed-and-fried pumpkin flowers, sliced Poblano peppers with cheese and creme freche, “fiesta” mole with chicken and…lastly but certainly not leastly, Oaxacan chocolate ice cream.

Hungry yet?

Oaxaca City to the Beach — in Six Knuckle-Biting Hours

"Drive with caution -- winding roads" (Understatement? Yes.)

We just got back from a week of vacation in the Southern Mexico state of Oaxaca. We decided to make a road trip out of it, flying into Oaxaca City, picking up a rental car, and then heading south on Carretera 175, which takes you to the Pacific Oaxacan coastline — after traversing many, many mountains.

We had done our research and were aware it was up there in the list of “crazy drives you’ll probably only attempt once in your lifetime.”

But wow — what’s beauty if not a little crazy?

First, here’s how it looks on a normal map:

The orange dot in the middle is Oaxaca City, the dot on the beach is where we drove to: a private little beach -- more on that later this week!

But in reality? Well, here is my homemade map:

My arms were sore from driving -- that's how twisty it is.

But as you can imagine, there’s a good reason it’s this twisty. The never-ending mountains! Lots of them — through the desert, then the pine forest, and finally the tropics. (Segment 1: Twisty, dry, and hot. Segment 2: Twisty, dry and cool. Segment 3: Twisty, moist and very hot.)

Let’s take a look:

Companions to None: Film Explores Street Dogs in Mexico

Flickr Photo by Pedro Rueda

If there are two things I love, it’s film documentaries and dogs. But dog documentary Companions to None is one of those films I probably shouldn’t watch because I’ll just cry the entire time.

It’s about the overwhelming street dog population in Mexico (I highly recommend Amores Perros – or Love’s a Bitch in English, for a fictionalized-but-apt examination of Mexico’s bizarre relationship with dogs.)

My neighborhood, as I’ve explained before, is an odd microcosm of this societal ill. There’s people like me, walking our fancy, neutered, well-loved dogs in beautiful Parque Mexico. Never far away, though, are street dogs. Sad street dogs with open wounds, limps and desperately sweet souls. And because there is no consistent sterilization program for street dogs, these dogs keep reproducing, in the shadows, ignored by most. Thankfully, a few kind people in the neighborhood do try to take care of these dogs, such as putting out mats for them, feeding them, and taking them to the vet/groomer’s if they need help. More than once a street dog has followed me home, hoping for a hand-out. Of course I oblige when this happens.

Go to more rural parts of Mexico and profound poverty and cultural norms exacerbate the problem. People barely have enough money to feed themselves (and their large families — contraception for humans is not a wildly popular idea, either), so taking proper care of street dogs is low on the list of priorities.

Flickr Photo by patotenere

As well, a persistent belief that neutering male dogs will make them “gay” keeps sterilization programs from taking hold. One woman in the film trailer credits the Catholic Church with propagating this belief, and I’m not surprised. Homophobia knows no bounds, not even when it comes to pets.

As the LA Times explains, the film may not be widely seen. (I want to give a shout-out right now to the Times for having excellent coverage of Latin America at a time when most news divisions are cutting staff.)

“Problems securing a wide distribution for the film may obstruct the diffusion of what is an important message. Buchanan said American networks such as Animal Planet, Discovery and HBO passed on broadcasting the documentary and that a deal with TV Azteca –- one of Mexico’s two main commercial broadcasters –- fell through.”

I do hope the film gains momentum, or at least the important message it carries. Sterilizing dogs is far more humane than letting them over-populate, starve on the street, and create more starving puppies. And the more your sterilize, the smaller the problem gets with every passing generation.

Here’s the Winter Home of Millions of Butterflies

After a one-hour cab ride, a three-hour car ride, a one-hour horseback ride and a long steep walk down the side of a mountain, we finally convened yesterday with the Monarch butterflies, who fly by the bazillions every winter to a small patch of forest in the Mexican state of Michoacan. This is one of the world’s greatest (and most mysterious) migrations. And it’s only four hours from where I live.

Stunning. HOWEVER, this was probably the biggest photographic challenge I ever faced. There were butterflies everywhere, yet, they don’t really show up in the photos too well…

Those trees are literally dripping with large bunches of butterflies, who are crammed in all together. When the sun would come out, they’d fly out en masse. When a cloud appeared, back they’d go to the trees.

We were around 10,000 feet elevation. It was cold and windy, even when the sun would come out. This particular migration area is accessible only by horseback.

According to Monarch Watch, this is how it works:

“The sites the Monarchs use during the winter have particular characteristics that enable their survival. These characteristics are important because they provide the Monarch with the right overwintering conditions. Trees on which to cluster are one of the most important elements of the sites. The climate and the whole surrounding area are also important. Nearby trees, streams, underbrush, and fog or clouds all form an intricate natural ecosystem that is the monarchs’ winter habitat. These conditions are found in oyamel fir forests, which occur in a very small area of mountain tops in central Mexico. Overwintering sites are about 3000 meters (nearly 10,000 feet) above sea level, and are on steep, southwest-facing slopes.

In particular, the butterflies need a cool place. When they are cool, they don’t metabolize, or use up, their energy reserves as fast. They also need to be protected from snow and winds. The surrounding trees serve as a buffer to the winds and snow. Because they also need water for moisture, the fog and clouds in this mountainous region provide another important element for their survival.

The butterflies choose spots that are close to but not quite freezing. They cluster together, covering whole tree trunks and branches, and cling to fir and pine needles. The forest floor in the overwintering sites is covered with young trees, shrubs, lichens and moss. When Monarchs fall out of the trees and are too cold to fly back up, they can sometimes crawl to the lower bushes to avoid predators. The tall trees make a thick canopy over their heads. Protective trees and bushes soften the wind and shield the butterflies from the occasional snow, rain, or hail. Fog and clouds settle on the Monarch groves. On sunny days, they often warm up enough to fly to nearby water where they will drink. They must fly back to the roost before getting too cold, and one can sometimes see them take off in flight, heading back to the roosts as soon as a cloud passes over.

Each of the above elements is important to the butterflies, and makes up the Monarch habitat – trees in which to roost, other trees and shrubs to protect them, the cool air, and the presence of water.”

The Dominoes Queen Temporarily Bequeaths Her Title

*making frustrated groaning sounds*

Ahem, well, yo, la reyna de dominoes, in a FLUKE, came in 5th place tonight. As part of her (temporary) loss, she agreed to “publicize” the winner, Jeremy, in her blog.

Nancy reluctantly takes a shot of Chinaco tequila after playing a double-dominoes she couldn't close. "CHINACO!" is the name of the game. Jesica and Erik (left) and Jeremy and Jonathan (right) watch Nancy try to sip it down.

After a spread of food (including peanuts, chocolate-covered cranberries, jicama, hummus, joqoque seco, cucumber, black-bean quesadillas, and papaya-cantaloupe-coconut fruit salad), we finally get to the round of 1s -- a reason alone to ALSO enjoy some Haagen Daas chocolate ice cream. Which, pictured here, for some reason looks nothing like ice cream, more like salmon.

A humble Jeremy holds up the score card, marking his unprecedented (and incredibly unexpected) win, forcing us to give him money from the U.S.A, Mexico and South Africa. Plus, a few cell phones, chili powder and a Talavera bowl, for good measure.

Puebla, Mexico: Home of Talavera Pottery

Puebla, Mexico, is famed for its Talavera pottery. So, before we visited Puebla this past weekend, I had envisioned it as being a city completely covered in Talavera. Like, even the toilets would be Talavera — hey, I’ve seen it before, some of you may remember.

But, no, it wasn’t so. It wasn’t Talavera todo el tiempo. Although don’t get me wrong: Downtown Puebla is beautiful, and has more-than-your-average amount of Talavera. The artists’ market also is heavily focused on ceramics, some of them incredibly gorgeous and expensive, especially the stuff that’s been certified as true “Talavera.”

And, as always in Mexico, the food was increible, from my four-mole meal at Meson Sacristia to the cheap, delicious tacos al pastor at midnight sold in taquerias on the zocalo (that’s unusual — most colonial-town zocalos have been overtaken by overpriced, not-so-great touristy joints). I guess Puebla combines the beauty of an old colonial city with the urban-ness of Mexico City…or something like that, oh, and with a touch of “shabby chic” thrown in (outer areas of the central parts of town were a bit down-on-its-heels).

One important thing to know about Puebla if you visit: Damn, the temperature fluctuates. It feels about 85 during the day, and about 40 at night. So, prepare to wear a t-shirt in the afternoon, and a winter coat and hat at night.

PHOTOS from my trip…

A typical street scene in Puebla, Mexico. We took the tour bus across town, and a random rain shower made us feel a bit stupid for being seated on the open-air top level of the bus. But wow, being perched up high helps with photo taking. More photos….

The Afterlife According to Aztecs

So part of the elaborate display in downtown Mexico City devoted to Dia de los Muertos is an exhibit on the afterlife as perceived by the Aztecs and smaller tribes who lived in peace with them or were eventually conquered by them. Last night, I was in the Zocalo with a friend, Jesica, who is a tour guide and Mexican art historian expert. She explained it all to me. It is truly lovely hearing about a different concept of the afterlife — it’s intentional that I don’t use terms like “heaven” and “hell” because many of the traditional groups in Mexico did not perceive life after death as a place where you go either to be punished or revered. It had more to do with how you died and what your social status was, than what sort of moralistic-based “sins” you committed on earth. As an agnostic, I appreciate that.

Here are four layers of afterlife (there are roughly about 13), as followed by the Nahuatl speaking Aztecs (many, if not most, modern-day Mexico City residents are descended from this group; Nahuatl is still spoken here in outlying areas). Mexico City was originally a great Aztec city as late as the 1500s.

This is a depiction of where the majority of people went after they died. It’s crowded and you’re anonymous, but there are gods nearby.

A close-up of what the afterlife was like for most people.

If you died a water-related death, you went to this layer, which was presided over by the god Tlaloc, who you can see there in the back. As you can imagine, water played an important role in the valley of Mexico: Tenochtitlan, the former city, was surrounded by water.

A special layer of the afterlife was reserved for two heroic groups of people: Aztec warriors and women who died in childbirth. She is giving birth here. I especially love how warriors are grouped with women giving birth. Beautiful.

Babies and children also had their own layer.

When the babies died, they were surrounded by fruit trees that had fruit shaped like breasts that they could eat. Maternal figures watched.

Dia de los Muertos for City Commuters

Getting around Mexico City is complicated — there’s subways, buses, taxis, cars and more. The average Chilango spends a lot of time just trying to get somewhere, so it’s no surprise that the transit department sponsored a few altars and exhibitions at this week’s Dia de los Muertos Mexico City festivities. As a resident, it’s fun to see a subway car or bus turned into a makeshift altar/cemetery.

(I think the underground trains make for great symbolism — much of the great ancient Aztec city of Tenochtitlan is still remaining to be unburied, and during excavations for subway expansion, more ruins are often found. The Aztecs believed in nine circles of an underworld (not the same as hell — people didn’t go there to suffer after they died) and several layers in the sky too (more on their concepts of “afterworld” in a post later today).)

Also, because this is a big and chaotic city, it’s not unusual for someone to die because of commuting. Bus accidents are common, and I’ve lost count of the taxi accidents I’ve seen.

This guy's had a long day at the road construction site!

Where this subway car stops, nobody knows.

A very patient lady waits for the light to change.

I board the bus to....the afterlife.

Friends Jesica and Erik are not so sure about the bus driver.

A straphanger holds on.

Not your typical bus ride.

Oh, I Love Shopping in Mexico: Recent Bargain Aquisitions

It’s been awhile since I posted the cool stuff I buy in Mexico. Here ya go, with a noticeable “Dia de los Muertos” theme to it…

This is a reproduction of a Mexican Colima dog. The real ones are housed only in museums and by savvy collectors. I found this guy in Queretaro, Mexico. He cost around $7 bucks, I think. He’s holding an ear of corn in his mouth – ’cause they like their corn down here, you know?

This is a hand-blown glass heart. I bought it in Tlaxcala, Mexico. It’s from the state of Jalisco. It cost $120 pesos, or about $10.50 in U.S. dollars. I still haven’t figured out where (or how) to hang it, but I know I want the light to hit it — it really sparkles beautifully. In Tlaxcala, the store that sells these created an entire tree out of these, which I couldn’t take my eyes off of.

This is a skeleton driving a donkey cart that’s carrying a coffin. It cost about a dollar. From Toluca.

The Virgin de Guadalupe with tons of glitter surrounding her. Also about a dollar and from Toluca.

I keep this little lady under my computer monitor to remind myself to not spend too much time at the computer. To see a squirrel/veterinarian version of this, go here. She was cheap ($1.50) and from Toluca.

I found this glass candle votive at a little flea sale at the beauty salon right by my apartment. I now own about 5 pieces of blue glass, and I plan to keep collecting more. This cost $1 as well.