Minahs Welcome Us to Acapulco

I have a photo of me writing journal notes, sitting at the table on our balcony in Acapulco. My face is sunburned from the day before when we watched the cliff divers . We stood in full sun for 2 or so hours, as they kept promising: “The diving will start at any time now.” There was no shade. And, I confess to forgetting to put sun block on my face that day. So embarrassing, with my face so flushed.


We will never fly into Mexico City again, it was a horror story. My personal horror story. I have phobias about being closed into a space where I see no exit, i.e. elevators, small rooms where it is very confining, with maybe one exit, crowds, esp. on subways. One can imagine why I had so much trouble living in NYC , when I was first married.

In the MC airport an official was sheparding everyone down an escalater. Only problem was that at the bottom of the moving stairway there was a crowd of arrivals packed together closely, numbering in the hundreds, maybe thousands. It had the classic potential of the beginning of a stampede. I began demanding people to MOVE, MOVE – in a loud voice. They somewhat reluctantly did so. Still, we were left standing in a huge room crowded with people waiting to go thru immigration lines. My water had been taken away from me. I couldn’t stand for hours in a crowd, I knew it. I was having trouble breathing.

I appealed to a woman standing with a clipboard, told her I was going to pass out. She agreed to try to get me thru ahead of the line. She did. I was so relieved. Patrick, bless him, was oblivious to it all. Then we had 3 hrs. to wait for the 1 hr. flight to Acapulco.

Mauro met us at Acapulco Airport at 12 midnight our time, bless him. As we walked out to the parking lot I noticed the piercing calls of several birds. They sounded like Minahs. Mauro Sr. had Mauro Jr. w/him, who drove us in the air conditioned van (thank you, it was hot & humid). We were to travel the rest of the 10 days when M. picked us up in a VW bug, no a/c. Well, we didn’t have to rent a car for the 10 days we were there.

The Mauros deposited us at our hotel, Etel Suites, on the side of the hill overlooking old town. Patrick went down immediately to purchase ice and tacos. I worriedly stared down from the balcony trying to spot him, hoping & praying he’d make it back OK. It was late, dark and I was exhausted.
OK, let’s see what I wrote, sitting on the balcony.

Dogs wail, music blares, men, especially, laugh loudly, yellow lights appear at night, horns honk, music plays, men sing along with the dogs. Each day, twice, a man down below passes through and sounds like he’s having a mournful b.m. I still don’t know what he was advertising. Immodium A.D.?

This part of town – old town – comes alive when the sun sinks into the Pacific to our left. Music at the disco below us (well, everything is below us) begins in earnest; traffic increases around El Mirador, the hotel on the hill that features the cliff divers; taxis toot their horns twice, to ask if you want a cab; planes drone high over head.

We are in a suite where the bedroom is located behind the balcony, living room, kitchen, and is down the hall. When we retire we close the windows and doors, turn on the a/c, and we cannot hear a thing. Which is a very good thing!

Mexico has obviously never heard of noise pollution. Or, recycling. Which I will address when I continue in my next blog. *-*