Just another day in Paradise

It all started with an "uh-oh!" As in, "Uh-oh, we're outta propane." I was making coffee, the Capt was still in bed, and I was thinking, "Is the whole day going to be like this?" But luckily we have a little butane stove, so we were able to get adequately caffeinated to get on with our day. The closest place to buy propane from Barra is on the road to Cihuatlan, so we dinghied into town, lugged the propane tank to the Westie parked at the Sands Hotel parking lot, and headed out. Propane "farms" are always located away from dense populations, ever since a major explosion in Mexico City, so it's always a long drive, and very difficult if you don't have transportation.

We had talked about doing a fact-finding mission to Las Hadas marina, to see if it would be a good place to leave the boat while driving the Westie back to San Carlos. Since the propane farm was almost halfway there, we decided to keep going and make a day of it. That turned out to be a wise decision, but I'll get to why in a minute.

You know you're in Manzanillo's waterfront tourist area when you see the giant blue sailfish

After getting a bit lost in Manzanillo's touristy waterfront hotel district, we turned around and headed back to Santiago where we stopped for lunch at Julio's, one of our favorite taco places. Then we got directions for Las Hadas and doubled back to the exit road to Hotel Las Hadas. Soon we were driving up steep narrow streets surrounded by white buildings that reminded me of pictures of the Mediterranean. I guess if you build an apartment complex in Las Hadas, you can paint it any color as long as it's white.

Finally we located the marina office, talked to the manager and got the scoop on rates. Very reasonable for the area, we thought, about $20 a night. There are moorings too, but we'll probably want the boat at the dock while we're away.

On the way home the Capt made a couple of stops for me to jump out and get photos, even though by then he was getting tired and looking forward to getting back to the boat. So I shot a stupendous view of the Las Hadas harbor.

Hundreds of white condos, hotels and apartment buildings overlooking the Las Hadas Marina

And then he stopped again at the roadside fruit stands in La Central, where I'd been wanting to get a few shots. A pretty señorita at a stand across the road gave us a friendly wave and I dashed across to ask her about the monstrous green fruits displayed there. I'd seen them before, and they made me think of the alien pods in "Invasion of the Body Snatchers." She said they were yaka and offered me a sample slice. Estupendo! It was as though they were made up of every fruit I'd ever tasted! Very fragrant, bright yellow and just sweet enough. She said they taste like six different fruits and I agreed: pineapple, apple, peach, banana, mango and melon. I bought two bags of yaka pieces. I can't imagine buying a whole one, they're much too big unless you're having a party, or supplying the neighborhood. The world's largest fruit, in fact. This post on the Manzanillo Blog says they can grow up to 30 kilos and that they're also called jackfruit.

The things that look a little like green wasp nests are yaka, my new favorite fruit!

It's four-lane highway all the way from Barra to Manzanillo, except for Cihuatlan, where you still have to take the two-lane street through town. It was worth it for me, to get these two views of Cihuatlan's church, one very imposing and one that cracked me up. Coca Cola Plaza, indeed!

Guess we all know who paid for the big plaza in front of Cihuatlan's church

The other side of the church is a lot more dignified

Back in Barra when we pulled into the Sands parking lot, we saw piles of coconuts, and heard a loud "whump" as more hit the ground. The coconut guy was harvesting the palms before they could break loose and bean somebody. The fortuitous thing about this is that the coconuts were landing right where our van would have been if we hadn't driven it away today! Another white van was still there, and I wondered if its windshield would get smashed before the coconut harvest was over.

The Coconut Man is actually a teenager, sitting on a clump of coconuts, whacking away at them with a machete until they tumble to the ground and singing at the top of his lungs