Come Fly With Me

On our 2nd day in Acapulco I made this vow: I will not mourn the Acapulco I knew, and, instead, celebrate what is now.
This turned out to be difficult. Because…

…I was first in Acapulco in 1961 or 1962, went as a last minute lark with a girl friend. A few days passed and then 2 fellows picked Jackie and me up. She and __?___ didn’t click, but Don Socarras and I did. Jackie came down with Montezuma’s Revenge, I didn’t. Don and I went on our merry way, Jackie went home, Don asked me to stay another week, and I did.

Don, handsome as hell, a banker, was from Caracas. He habitually spent his annual, month-long vacation in A., so he knew it well. He took me on dates to the Jai Lai games, many different beaches, sailing in the bay, we watched the gorgeous, multi colored sunset at Pie de la Cuesta from under palapas, then cocktails at La Perla to watch the divers. One afternoon we swam – without the right to do so -- in the El Presidente Hotel pool. One day we visited the plaza downtown where I had 2 dresses made. It was a quiet little town then, with one main road along the beach. Only one high rise hotel. No real shops.

He was fluent in English and Spanish, his mother was from Florida, his dad from Venezuela. Charming, Don treated me very well and admired my intelligence, among other things. When I went home after our 2 week romance, we kept in touch, loosely. I knew he had a girlfriend, so I didn’t see any future w/him. But what a doll he was.

With Dave Hawks (my 1st husband), Acapulco was just as lovely, but built up more in 1971. We stayed at Las Brisas, a 5 star hotel over looking the bay. I don’t recall too much about our week there. I do remember that each room had its own, private pool, and that our breakfast of pastries and fresh fruit arrived each morning in a basket hung on our gate. Fresh hibiscus was scattered in our pool each day. I did think of Don a lot.

Unsurprisingly, in Mexico this time with Patrick, the memories that surfaced were of Don Socarras. I couldn’t tell P. anything about it. Our 10 days there were primarily fun, interesting, restful. Every time I thought of Don I said to myself, I said, Nancy, even if he’s still alive he’s an old man. Stop it! So I did.

The End.

At least for now.