Tag: destination

We Made It

We Made It

After nine long days on the road with little sleep apart from in San Miguel, we made it. We were here in Tepoztlan, Pueblo Magico, Morelos, Mexico. WOW. You did it Stephanie. Now what?

After unloading the car it was time to decide what I was going to sleep on. I had no bed. My friend Maria had helped me get a fridge, table with chairs and a sofa but alas there was not time to purchase a bed. Thinking back I should have put emphasis on a bed. But here I was. The sofa is skinny and not long enough for my frame but it was all I had unless I wanted to sleep on the floor – no scrap that idea. So the sofa it was. I was so tired, the floor would have been just as good. Needless to say I was awake early. There was a whole list of things that had to be done. Water and gas to be ordered and food to purchase. I sat on the porch and thought where the hell to I begin! Lucky for me the landlady’s brother-in-law, Elmer lives across the street and delivers water. You will here much more of Elmer as time goes on. The tank was almost empty and took two loads to fill.  Done. Then this truck comes down the dusty road tooting his horn and he is selling gas! Done.

gas!! now we are in business

Now we must find some food. Where do I go? I Really had no idea. To be honest I don’t think I went to the market in Tepoztlan that first day. I really cannot remember. I know I found the local store that would give me the basics but no food to speak of.  I must have eaten but what? That is a long-lost memory now.  For quite some time I used google to make my route out of here and still do! Tepoztlan is not a large town but to me then it was a twisted network of cobbled stone streets.  

But for the most part that day was spent in a daze, emptying the boxes of stuff I had brought with me. This was not a holiday, this was it. This was home. I am not sure what Seven thought of the whole ordeal but he was beginning to meet the neighbours dogs. Elmer has 10 of them. Thank god I have a fenced yard as time will tell but this picking up dog poop is a real bummer. After 18 years of not having to worry about it as all my dogs including Seven would find a spot in the bush away from everything. Now I have to pick it up, the poop-and-scoop deal every day. Damn he poops a lot, I just never realized. One learns very early that eyes are down when walking either to make sure you don’t step in dog poop or trip over the cobbled stones. Many times I have tripped and only once stepped in poop. No looking up at the beautiful mountains that surround Tepoztlan while walking, stop then look up.

Seven was itching to run I could tell but for now we rest and look out at our domain.

look out first day

 

Day Eight San Miguel de Allende

Day Eight San Miguel de Allende

Seven days on the road. Highways, motels, trucks, crappy food and my poor Seven not really knowing what was going on. I was exhausted yet wired to the gill. The road trip was not over yet but we took great refuge and thanks to my friend Hamish for letting us stay at his magnificent house in San Miguel de Allende. It made the seven days all worth it. His home in San Miguel is paradise. Nestled in the centre of the town behind brick walls and an unasuming door.  Like many homes in Mexico, never ever judge the book by the cover. There is not the flamboyance of showing off to the passers-by as seen throughout North America. You just never know what you may find behind those mediocre looking garage doors.

casa de Hamish

Upon entering I was immediately hit with the smell of jasmine. Everything is open but private. I immediately felt relaxed and ready to rejuvenate.

reflect and rejuvenate

After a good sleep, the first one in seven really, I had coffee and took Seven for a little walk around the neighbourhood praying I would not get lost! Returning, our day started with a great traditional Mexican breakfast prepared by the lady who takes care of everything at the house except the garden who Seven kept occupied, it had been a full week of not chasing his favourite ball so he was in paradise also.

happy seven on the roof top

It was then time for me to see a little of San Miguel. I certainly need more than an afternoon but thankful of my friend Hamish taking me on the mini tour. What a beautiful town and the centre was buzzing with tourists.

San Miguel de Allende

In fact San Miguel was my first choice some years ago but it has become expensive. In fact San Miguel has been listed as one of THE places to retire and as more and more people move into the town it is getting difficult to find suitable accommodation so my search extended.

Enroute to dinner I found my wings and had a magnificent meal while listening to some great music from Bobby Kapp, a good friend of Hamish. 

Time to walk back to paradise and have a good sleep, another busy day lays ahead of us as our journey continues.

Hamish and I
spread those wings
found my wings

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saying Good-Bye

Saying Good-Bye

Saying good-bye is always hard. But I feel it is never good-bye, more like hasta pronto – see you soon. The word(s) good-bye are far too final. Saying good-bye was really difficult. That was what it was like for Seven and I, difficult.  For me it was saying good-bye to a place I called home for 18 years. That’s a long time. That house was my nest. I felt comfortable, perhaps too much, perhaps I had become too complacent and it was time to move on. For Seven, I don’t know. That house was all he knew. He knew every corner, every tree, every bush, every smell. As shown in my last post he had his circle. It was his domain. But he had me and that’s all that mattered. As long as he was with me, he was home, minus the smells and circle of course.

We spent many days tripping around. Visiting friends, visiting those old trails. I knew it was a good-bye, a hasta pronto. did Seven? Perhaps because our home was not what he accustomed to. A tad more chaotic than usual. He knew something was up, but what?

Part of me did not want to leave. I did not want to leave that comfortable little bubble I had created over the last two decades. Leaving my best friends, my stronghold. It was scary. Perhaps Seven read my fears. I am sure he did. But we were one and we were going to do this together no matter how confusing it was for him and I. Think about it, how many people do you know have sold, thrown away, packed up and left their bubble at 68? Not many I bet. Call me crazy, call me brave but it was time. It was time to say good-bye, hasta pronto, time to burst that bubble and seek out a new life.

There were tears and big ones in private. There were many hugs. There was caution and there was help. I cannot thank my friends and my mum enough for giving me the confidence to do it. Shit how could I back out now? I was left with a few boxes, I would have nowhere to live. It was time to take that bull by the horn and do it!

Seven had no idea where we were going. Did I? Yes I had a place to go but that is a name on a map. A destination is another thing altogether. And that destination is something that Seven and I will find together.

the bubble for 18 years
hasta pronto Devon and Delphi