Lollies and Pups

I  decided to go to Chapala on a Sunday just for the pics.  Sunday is the day that so many families come to spend time on the water’s edge.  I wasn’t in the mood to shop, and most of the shops are closed anyway.   A trip to Chapala is more about the sights, the food, the people, the … journey.  The photo ops. 

But of course, I forgot my camera. 

I was going to steal a couple of Paula’s pictures, like I did on the last blog, but those are on FB and I don't know how to save them.  You will just have to wait.  My neighbor Lilias captured this one on her phone and emailed it to me, but for the most part, I will have to paint the pictures with words.

We drove along the six kilometers of Carretera, which just means highway but we use a different word because the road is, well, different.  It is fifteen minutes of speed bumps (topes), patched bitumen, old buses rattling and spewing exhaust behind them, people walking, riding bikes and motor cycles.. shops all along the sides with people turning off and on, nilly willy, over drop offs from the pavement to the dusty broken bits of rocks and dirt six or so inches below.  People come and go as the rules are unclear.  The potholes are deep, as are the distractions. (I am still looking for furniture and cool places to visit along here). 

When row after row of multi colored plaster buildings do take a bit of break, the lake peeks through.  Through the trees, through the grass.. The temptation to enjoy the water is a bit overwhelming, and I am going slow, so I do peek.. just a bit. 

Needless to say the drive can be a bit precarious. 

Eventually we get to the light in Chapala. 

Go straight and you head into a residential area. The big church is there, the old bank, the large grassy area with the trees where a few tents are set up as a small market.   Left takes you up the hill, past more colorful plaster shops with their rusted, roll down metal doors, past the houses on the hills, dripping in color and flowers, palm trees and trees with enormous brightly colored flowers.  Past the big box grocery store (Sorianna’s) and on to where the road joins the more substantial highway which ends up in Guad (Guadalajara). 

A policeman in the centre of the street sees me hesitate.  I look off to my right, towards the water.  He looks very seriously at me, steps out and puts a hand up to stop traffic from other directions, then waves at me, gives me the go to go.  The short block to the lake is littered with pedestrians and slow moving cars.  But everyone moves slowly and defensively, and I manage to get by it all without even stopping.   I turn onto a narrow street that is packed with parked cars on both sides.  It looks like every space is taken, but fellows with water buckets, bundles of rags,  and big smiles, guide people like me to a good spot.  There, they offer to watch, and wash the car for 50 pesos (about $3.50 right now with the exchange.. Canadian)  All good. 

We get out and head across the road and on to the busy Malecon.  The day is a perfect one and the first thing I want to do after making my way through the busy market, beer gardens and crowds of people, across the grass and on to cement walkway, is sit on a bench by the water. 

As noisy and chaotic it is, it is peaceful here.  Simple, well-worn, colorful fishing boats line the shore.  Young kids are stripping down, splashing and playing in the water in front of us.  There are ducks and herons floating in the water while enormous pelicans make themselves at home on the boats docked further out.  We watch as about ten little one-man sailboats make their way around by one of the restaurants (from which I can hear a mariachi band, complete with trumpet). The place is rich with life.. color and noise.  And food.

After a bit we get up and start to walk along toward the row of restaurants where we plan to have lunch.  We come to a full stop when a large group of people block our path.  I peek in and see a young boy, maybe 8 or 9 years old, and he starts to sing.  The voice of an angel: a mariachi angel of course, but we listen for a bit and then circle around the group.

We pass cart after cart of people selling ice-cream, popsicles, dried fish, tamales.. making music, dancing, laughing.. it is such a busy happy place.  So many families and sweet hearts walking hand in hand.

We have lunch by the water, watching the birds, the people, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine.  I have ceviche, guacamole and a lemon aid, Lilias enjoys a shrimp salad..

After lunch we checked out all the little markets.. row on row of tents.. there are mugs, and tequila.. children’s clothes, hats, scarves, paintings of a sort.. we aren’t shopping, but, I find those lovely Tamrino balls that I love, and Lil finds some jelly candy..

A few short hours later we are back in the car and a bit lost on some side street.  .. All new to me, but Lil has been here before.. “Just keep going, you head on to the highway”.. so we rumble down the cobble stones.. past a huge park where there are more cars and more people enjoying the day.  Past the old train station Lil tells me is basically a gallery now, but was once the preferred mode of transportation by the richer Guadalaharians heading to their holiday place in Chapala.  An old train sits out front, and I can see the lake directly behind it. 

Lil lets me continue, even though I have no idea where I am.  We eventually do meet up with a highway, but it is not the Careterra.  

She finally pipes up  ‘the dog kennel is up here’. 

It was a lovely Sunday.  I was after photos and don’t any of those.  But Lil did get a few, and she also managed to score a little puppy.  I think her name is Annabelle.