Jungle Journal
It’s a surprisingly emotional day. I’m leaving to UK for one week to see my Mum for her Birthday and catch up with house, family and friends. I am leaving Jayne, Mausetrappe and the home we have built here for the first time. Brings up all the feels.
And this is the sunset I leave behind.
Jungle Journal
We give ourselves permission to stay up and see the New Year in at the beach like proper grown ups. We meet up with friends and eat early to avoid the crowds and head to our favorite bar and settle in. A DJ is playing mellow tunes and it is some hours before we notice that the beach is now home to a mixed crowd of about 1000 highly enthusiastic but ever so well-behaved folk. We have accidentally secured prime spot and allow the year to pass gracefully by making a terrible job at spinning three-foot long sparklers that we bought from an arms/firework dealer at the traffic lights. Amazingly no one is burned. We head for home by moonlight and stop on the way to accept invited tequila slugs from the bottle from our neighbours. Rude not to. My legs somehow are on a different time zone to the rest of me and that makes for some interesting balance issues, which are noticed by all. I am dispatched home.
2018 feels strange. I wake up with my tongue stuck to my eye. It takes a good few hours to get much into focus. Rehydration via buckets of tea helps considerably. It appears I am not the grown up I wanted to be. Guilt is forcing us to be productive. I soon find myself up to my eyes in plumbing and window construction. And so the year begins.
We are stuck in a long line of traffic again. It’s not a good feeling to be crawling along slowly knowing that at some point you will see why. There is so much carnage on these roads that you see things too often you don’t want to. In this case it’s not so bad. A milk truck has overturned and the road is getting decidedly yoghurty. We return home eventually to the news of another crashed milk truck 20 miles up the road the other way. Not a good day for milk.
Our Sayulita work party has arrived. Two guys, keen as can be, prepared to knock off all the jobs we put off last year. They dutifully scrub and seal the wood on the outside shower. They repair and replace stairs all the way up the hill, which will make falling off much less likely. They relocate tinacos and plumb them into the well awaiting pump and power. They move all the bloody useless bamboo to a new storage area out of sight. Much distraction as a small boa constrictor is found to be resident in the bamboo pile. It’s a beautiful thing.
We also have an entirely unsuccessful first attempt at putting up the solar panel holder. The 3.6M legs that need bolting to the top 6M x 4M frame are a challenge. Much buggering about fails to produce any useful progress and breaks two of the legs. We postpone the project. All in all it’s been a very useful few days of work and singing. The older of the Sayulita blokes sings songs that he makes up all day long. He tells stories of the songs he created for lost loves many years ago and serenades Jayne at least once a day. Jayne is very impressed as her own attempts at singing are rarely appreciated.
Music is a missing element from our daily lives, which we are addressing. As part of the gifts we took away from our visit to Chapala was a large box of CDs. They were gifted by some generous senior folk. Our truck (which is now again with Jesus having it’s transmission healed) has practically no reliable parts except a CD player which was hidden and we just found it ! This has allowed us to trawl the box and find out what musical treats we can expect. It’s an eclectic bunch of CDs that I suspect are from releases that are all considerably older than me. Bing Crosby is my current favorite with Frank Sinatra and Lou Armstrong following close behind. I am surprisingly entertained by singing loudly to Bing Crosby-“Don’t fence me in“ while driving a dodgy pick up truck back from Jesus’s place.
Our ability to power up our house and charge up devices with magic boxes attached to our truck (or generator) has allowed the introduction of playlists through phones/laptops to add to the mix. I spend a rather pleasant sunny afternoon painting the gypsy cabin listening to Frank Zappa, John Otway, Captain Hot-knifes and Ella Fitzgerald.
We have made a move to promote ourselves and put a bit of extra pressure on. We have listed the gypsy cabin on Airbnb . We are offering a rustic and unique outside shower (which is not quite finished and has no water), a toilet block for sink and composting loo (with no floor, water or power), and a kitchen area (with no kitchen in it yet). This is designed to incentivise us into getting things done. It’s working. We get our first enquiry and shoot into action trying to get all the stuff not done done. We have our first booking. Two Americans for 11 days in March. It’s a start.
Composting loos and buckets of sawdust have now arrived in the orange toilet block, the bodega apartment (Selva Vista), and our treehouse. Three porcelain potties are relegated as planters. Design of loos is pretty much perfected and the composting areas to dump the results are allocated and ready to accept incoming buckets of “the good stuff”. This makes Jayne very happy.
We found a rusty metal gate in the middle of the land with no apparent purpose. It must have been a remnant of when the land was separated into sections but it’s not at all clear. We collect it and deposit it with our ironman with the solar frame legs to repair and strengthen. He is tasked to restore the gate to former glory, add a metal mosquito mesh and weld on some bits so we can set it in concrete and make a door for the Bodega apartment (Selva Vista). It works rather well.
The metal door for the battery house is on and finishing touches are in place. That is a solid little prison cell . Our crazy concrete man has done a great job and has actually slept in there the past few nights on one of the concrete battery shelves. If only we can find a way of assembling the solar frame we would be ready for the photon catching equipment delivery. It does not seem to be an issue as the delivery status is currently “in transit”. Takes that pressure off a little.
We are busy building toilets when groups of folk from Montreal pass by. Turns out that one of the girls lived on our land for many months some years ago and that her and her friend who is with her tried to buy it . Turns out they were the girls we were told of who put in an offer that was bettered by an American guy who almost completed on the deal but his boyfriend wouldn’t let him. We arrived a month after he pulled out. Timed it perfectly. We give the girls and their parents a tour of the land. Good to talk French for a while. In fact the girls give us a tour of the land and explain many things. They point out all the bits that are now missing or were planned and never finished. Our confusion as to how the stone cottage area worked is unsurprising. Turns out the building was purpose built as the ceremony area for the Ibogain ceremonies.
The moon is super. A “super moon”. One result is that the surf is lifted an extra few feet and crashed down on the shore with more gusto. It’s a proper noise that we can hear from right out here. Another result is being able to walk around without a torch after sundown between the moonlight shadows cast by the trees. It’s rather stunning. Seeing your own shadow cast down the beach by the moon is also worth seeing. Another one next month we are told. Super moon 2 coming soon.
My mouse catching skills have abandoned me. It’s been over a month since my peanut butter bait has lured a rodent into my trap cage. Maustrappe, however, has now bettered me. Three and half mice in the last few weeks. One of them was twice the size of her head which was a task to persuade her to let go of, under the bed, at 3 am. The last half a mouse was left as a gift next to my side of the bed exactly in the spot where my foot meets floor when I get up for a pee in the dark. I remain ungrateful for such gifts. So Maustrappe is beating me by a head (a bit of torso and two legs). Need to raise my game.
The machine has arrived. Properly and seriously arrived. We were teased by a 20 minute visit a few days ago before it departed in a hurry to where it should have been working. We watch hypnotised as massive chunks of earth are built up, removed, moved around and flattened. We watch as three huge spaces are cut into the hill around the BrickS*House. These will be home to our three new casitas. They will have stunning views from their elevated platforms. Our man and his family have been collecting wood for weeks for them and work starts now! Maquina man finishes off and tries to leave. It has taken months to get him here and so Jayne kidnaps the machine and refuses to let it leave. She agrees to take him home and collect him again in the morning but the machine stays!! He is stunned but surprisingly compliant.
The next morning we collect him and return him to his machine. The machine is then deployed creating us a new road out of the piles of clay that have been unearthed and a retorno on the hill in front of our house. He cleans up our access to the house to makes the hill considerably less treacherous to drive on and creates a new loop at the top of the hill which allows us to get up and down without the usual 5 point turn avoiding trees and roots. This will save us a heap of time. Bonus is that the loop has created a perfect central garden island and a new route to the pool. A couple of lovely flat areas are created for better parking and Jayne releases the machine from captivity and off it goes. We may never see it again but it was a very welcome visit.
Clay. We have uncovered many tons of yellow clay and many more tons of brown clay. This gives us excellent security when the rains come as when it dry’s it’s like concrete and avoids us building retaining walls. This amount of clay is probably why La Colina is still an impressive hill rather than a less impressive mound of mud after the rainy season. The newly cut clay faces will act as back walls in the casitas. We are told the quality of the brown clay is superb for pottery. Jayne is keen on cutting in a bread oven into one of our new clay walls. Endless clay based possibilities in our future.
There has been some swearing and jiggling and fiddling but finally we persuade many meters of electric wire down some old water pipes we found on the path near the remaining bees. We connected one end to our first solar panel that is propped up in the sunniest spot we can find near the old metal gates to the gypsy cabin. The other end forms a collection of wires, pipes and rope that are attached to our well pump which is 25 meters down the well. The water has another 20m to get up to our tinacos . We watch the bubbles move up the clear pipe out of the well which happily confirms the pump is pumping and we take the trek up the hill to see what happens. We have water. Sun beams are pushing water from our well up the hill and are topping up our tinacos for free ! (except the cost of all the bits of course). This is a wonderful moment. One very important mission accomplished.
We plumb in everything we can think of. Outside shower, hand basin in orange block, outside tap above outside sink, gypsy cabin and the Bodega apartment plumbing system all have all the water they need. Excellent.
There is an opportunity we can’t miss. Our man has been tasked to take down a massive parota tree that is above the waterfalls and we are invited to spectate. Parota is protected so only dead trees can be felled. This one must have had a very good life. It’s huge and impressive. Our man with a very large chains saw is entirely dwarfed as he cuts away for best part of an hour before this immense lump of wood hits the ground. It has consumed a number of trees in its time so there is a hole running through it’s center. That ruins it for the big tables the owner wanted to make from the wide trunk. Still a number of truck loads of very excellent wood have just been made available.
We gather ourselves and direct our faith in our resourceful Mexican super heroes to get this bloody solar frame up. By standing on the newly built battery house and leaning a ladder at a stupid angle it is possible to persuade bolts through holes. Two newly strengthened legs are fixed. By a series of death defying circus feats involving a ladder and no fear the remaining legs are on. We tie the structure to two trees and call it a success. We tie a plumb line around the base to show the correct level and agree to concrete the legs in later. It’s hot as hell in that sunny spot. I’m soaked in sweat and a fetching shade of pink. From the top of the hill the shadows cast by the legs makes the structure look huge and broken.
The solar equipment we are told has landed in Mexico. The wrong end of Mexico but it’s getting closer.
Made the very last of our mosquito windows for the Bodega Apartment (Selva Vista) today. It is now an enclosed space with plumbing for two sinks & a shower. We have hot water. We also have a brown & concrete dust floor that is sufficiently dry enough to clean. Concrete man has spent the last 24 hours cleaning it up and sealing it . The wood is cut and treated to enclose the bathroom and we await a single length of gas pipe before we do that. The parota wood for the bathroom and kitchen counters are ready to install and we have Jayne’s sister here who is a cabinet maker who can get them fitted for us. Oh we are close.
We greet the day by the finding of the other half of the mouse this morning.
Delightful.
Jungle Journal
The end of another year. Thank you for all your support with donations and adopting trees, bats and bee hives. It’s a considerable help to us and we appreciate it greatly. As do the bees and the trees and the bats.
Strange days continue to happen. It’s Monday and I’m at Oxxo, which is the Mexican 24 hour chain store that appears at every petrol station, and elsewhere. Oxxo do a half decent coffee from a gurgly machine and are useful for milk and ice. The rest of the store seems to be shelf after shelf of biscuits and cookies. It is also where everyone tries to top up their phone on a dodgy touch screen till. It is often a long process followed by disappointment. This makes the queue last enough time for coffee to go cold and ice to melt.
“Juan Juan The Slow Concrete Man“ is not there for his 8am arranged Oxxo pick up. I drink my coffee and wait a while. A guy walks over to me making direct eye contact and talks in a slow drawl of Spanish. I pick up the words for floor and concrete and practically nothing else. I later find out that no one much understands what he says most of the time. We have an odd gesture based conversation and I agree to take him to look at where our concrete floor should have been 3 days ago. I give up on JJTSCM with the idea that maybe he has sent this guy in his place. We arrive and our man is already there and greets this new guy as a good friend. I am confused. They look at me expectantly. I have not a clue what’s going on. I practically drag translator Jayne out of bed to make some sense of it all.
First development is that JJTSCM texts to tell us he is feeling unwell and is hospitalized with chronic apathy. We are thankful we don’t have to fire him. The new guy is a friend of our man’s who we met briefly at a bus stop waiting for our solar frame to arrive. Someone mentioned the floor to him then. He recognised me at the Oxxo while he was on his way to another job for a local dentist. Well the dentist hadn’t paid him so he chanced his arm, sacked off the dentist’s job and jumped in with us. He agrees to return the next day with a crew and skill and enthusiasm and have the floor and tiling done by the end of the week for a fixed price.
We take a breath and recognise that JJTSCM effectively fired himself today and has been replaced with a much better option without us consciously doing a thing. All by 9.30am. We retreat for tea.
Our friend has arrived from Reno and we set out to show him Sayulita and meet up with our favorite Yoga/Pilates instructor who we met on the bamboo course. She meets us and a few tequila based refreshers. Later we go look at the surf. Our Reno friend tried surfing for the first time today and hasn’t quite got the hang of it yet. He blames the board which makes him sound like he’s been at it for years.
We watch too many people not catching waves as the sun sets. It is a glorious evening. I hear my name shouted. It’s definitely my name. I am confronted by an excited guy in hippy pants & sunglasses that I recognise as a friend that I met first in New Zealand, then Israel, then USA, then Spain, then South Africa. He is in Sayulita with his wife who has extended family who have been here since it was a village and own extraordinary seafront property on the hills around us. Sayulita is 10 times the size on San Pancho and packed with tourists so this chance meeting is very random. This day is getting weirder. We arrange to meet him and his wife later for dinner and take an adventure tour around some secret places we are introduced to.
The next morning starts early getting the new concrete crew set up and away. They are strong and fast and have already surpassed JJTSCM’s efforts in the first few hours. Good news.
Today we have a constant stream of visitors. I collect our newly found friends from their stunningly luxurious buildings above the Sayulita sea. We remove them from luxury and add more Rustico. Our favorite friend who smuggled us in shoes and my water pump from Colorado joins us. He brings 5 of his 6 kids, his wife and their St Bernard puppy, which is 9 months old, and the size of me. They bring cocktails and a good touch of disruptive enthusiasm that only a bunch of kids with machetes can do. We manage to remove the machetes from the kids, check them for obvious wounds and off they go exploring. I escape and head to town to capture our Texan friend who owns a restaurant near the beach. She has wanted to come out and see us for months and we have promised her own area of garden to nurture. In the process I collect a very welcome gift of accurate, proper and perfectly simple tequila glasses from dear friends.
We leave for dinner in town as the sun drops to discuss gardens and concrete and friends lost and found. We return to a dark tree house and try out the glasses. They work a treat!
Things calm down a touch but there is a welcome development. We have received our first rent. Our Reno friend has contributed to proceedings in appreciation of the place (and our loveliness clearly). It’s a strange and welcome thing to have a “money in” section in our books. And so it begins.
During the past mad busy few days our man has been noisily attacking our Parota chunks under clouds and mounds of sawdust. What has appeared is very impressive. The wood is now alive with smooth texture & deep colours. Our Parota kitchen counter is ready for the beaten copper bucket/bowl that will be the sink. Our huge round slices of tree/outside tables are ready for setting on logs refined as legs. There is so much beautiful drying Parota we are spoilt for choice. We were in PV stocking up and found similar wood lumps (untreated) for sale at stingingly silly prices. We done good. It’s all going to look epic.
It rained hard again last night. The bouncy splashy wet type for many hours. We are assured this is very very unusual for December. We were caught out and much is wet that shouldn’t be. The vehicles throw films of mud over everything including us. I have a cold. I probably have a touch of ebola mixed in too. I’m being very brave.
Our new concrete man has turned out to be a right character. He is often found a hundred feet up a tree he has climbed just because. He catches huge fresh water shrimp from our streams and juggles scorpions .If he gets stung by one he tells us the cure is to eat it. He has philosophies about pretty much everything and we have a strangely comfortable bond developing. His English is worse that my Spanish and he is, I am told, still fairly incomprehensible anyway. He is a good looking young man, exactly the same age as me, half my weight and twice as strong. It’s a touch depressing.
We are getting regular visits to the land from new people we meet in town and further chance meetings with old friends. We have had South Africans arrive I haven’t seen in years and a friend who I last met ten years ago in New Zealand. She just happened to be staying in town. There seems to be a heap of people from Calgary here too. The waterfalls are becoming a popular destination walk and we are easy to find on the way out so there is a steady stream of folk that happen across us and want to know what we are up to. Our tours of the land are getting practice. It is interesting to see the place through fresh eyes and new perspective. It gives us confidence that we are creating a place and space that others will love like we do.
Plans are afoot. Now the Bodega apartment (Selva Vista) is on it’s way to being finished the BrickSHouse area is our next focus. We can get water there from the top of the hill and revive the shower and install one of our newly built composting loos. We have researched acquiring a number of large glamping style bell tents that can be located on platforms and house queen size beds. There is a contact that has a supplier in China and the budget is not too bad. The idea gains some traction when we realise that our man is offering to build us small casitas with palapa roofs from locally foraged materials for much less and very quickly. We calculate that this gives us the best chance to offer something unique and funky and make decent rent in the shortest time.
We have lost our desire for concrete gate posts and that has moved things along considerably. We now have a gate. It was a tree and now, thanks to chainsaw and skill, it’s a fabulous gate hung between wooden gate posts. This gives us a boundary and entrance to our land for the first time. It’s located at the first entry point to the South side and is a great addition to the mix. Love it.
Our orange toilet block has been bugging us. We have revised our plans to revive the shower and tile the floor. It’s a large space. Too large we think for single loo and a shower. We have, therefore, applied a touch of rethink and have created an outdoor shower on a nearby tree. It’s surrounded by a spiral of palm bark planks from downed trees around our solar array. The remaining blocks of palm will be terraced into the earth to create planting zones. Palm wood does not last long out here and disintegrates quickly into fertile planting goodness. So we will tile the floor and chuck in a few beds and boom! … the orange block becomes another resting area for weary volunteers who need a budget option. The outdoor shower is looking very sexy and set to revive the hot and sweaty by dispensing authentic jungle temperature waterfall.
Xmas eve is spent borrowing an oven to cook pumpkin pies (strange looking squash pies actually) and watching sunset at our favorite beach bar. There was a set from a jazz guitarist & drummer from the town. A professional trombonist happens to be at the bar and joins them. They improvise on John Coltrane tracks. Perfect.
Xmas day comes and goes with minimal fuss. My present is a hand drawn card and I stun Jayne with a parody version of Merry Xmas everyone by Slade on the Ukulele. “And here it is …. our first Xmas in the jungle with a cat. If you’re looking for the perfect life it’s exactly where it’s aaaah-aaaah-aaat !“ …. I’ll save you from the verses. We eat well with friends old and new in town after a particularly lazy morning catching up with family on Skype.
The new bee location has been discovered by at least one Coatis. I saw one on these sticky pawed buggers this morning looking rather pleased with itself. These large raccoon type creatures get into anything and apparently like our honey. They have moved heavy rocks on the beehive roof and taken bites out of the honeycombs. We are repairing and securing them as best we can. The bees are unsettled and one of the smaller hives looks like its been abandoned. We are working on making the place more queen bee friendly and less a honey trap for Coatis.
We have had a very strange and shocking accident. We were in the Polaris returning back to the house from plumbing the apartment. It’s my son’s birthday and he is on face time with me following the journey from our phone. There is a sudden and startling loud crashing noise and something hits my head hard and bounces painfully off my leg. We come to a sudden stop and there are very huge chucks of wood everywhere. We check each other. We are somehow not injured. Jayne runs to a spot less likely to be fatal as I look up and around to assess what has happened. A huge branch has fallen directly onto the Polaris roof directly above my head, which was saved from being crushed by the strength and build quality of the roll cage. The bar above my head has a significant dent in it. The rest of the vehicle is bruised but in pretty good shape considering. The offending log of wood is lying in front of us covered in over a dozen quite stunning Bromeliads. It was probably the weight of them that sent it ground wards. When I’m sure nothing else is coming down at me I haul it from the road. It is very heavy and takes all my strength to move. There are smaller large logs all around us that have broken off the main branch. We look up and see where the branch started from and it’s very very high up. The chances of this happening are probably a fair bit less than being struck by lightening. Our luck being directly under this thing as it landed is questionable. Our considerable luck surviving with no injuries at all is not. We are grateful, humbled and both pretty shaken up.
My son and his friend have watched this happen. They are wondering if it was a set up just for them. We are all delighted that his birthday did not include seeing his Dad squashed flat live from the UK.
We take the rest of the day off. The sunset looks particularly pretty and the margaritas are just that extra bit delicious.
Our plumbing is done and waiting to be connected up to a tinaco and our new hot water shower looks well posh! The concrete battery house is nearly done and there is so much in the pipeline for the next few weeks. We have three new palapa roofed cabins in production and a crew from Sayulita (our first real work party) arriving after New Year to give us a full week’s work on the white house. The apartment is getting there and on track and we will be offering the “gypsy cabin” up for AirBnB as soon as the paint drys . Progress… poco a poco.
San Pancho is full of folk now. It’s in post Xmas full swing. Sayalita is unbearably busy we hear. People enquiring about renting the Polaris stopped us in the street. We are mending the bits that the tree broke and have added a “rent our Polaris” page to the website and are sorting out the web of knotted red ribbons which is Mexican commercial car insurance. It’s looking a lot more likely we will actually get a real live punter soon!
Amongst our discoveries when clearing up all the places here are filthy old note pads, drafts of books and a roll of various architectural plans for septic tanks and buildings. It is fascinating to read lists of costs and materials from 8-10 years ago that are so similar to the ones we are creating today. Amongst the bat guano stained pages are letters to guests/friends who have outstayed their welcome and hospital bills for treating Scorpion bites. This bonds us to the folk who were here before us. It reminds us that others had dreams for this place and some were realized. Locals have told us that when Richard (an ex NFL player) was building the tree house and the pool he made the whole place incredibly beautiful. All to attract his wife down to visit from California. He died here but left a strong legacy, which we greatly respect. His carpentry work that remains is outstanding.
We discovered that five years ago a girl called Mary setup a treatment retreat for recovering drug addicts here. It was based on the premise that taking a locally strong hallucinogenic called Ibogain cured addiction. There is much written in credible scientific journals about the effects of Ibogain C20H26N2O (originally African in origin) to help heroin addiction. We continue to learn how that all worked out. It was a controversial venture that did not win unanimous local support or sympathy we hear.
We both are looking back at how our own lives have played out these past few days, weeks and months with some incredulity. This year we have been around the world at least once and have had some extraordinary adventures. We returned to UK in July in time for the Glastonbury Festival (my 27th time and Jayne’s first). We then decided to pack up our lives into 11 bags and a surfboard and move into a tree house in a far away jungle. This was not the plan when we woke in San Francisco, USA on New Years Day a year ago planning to build another temple at Burning Man. That feels like two lifetimes away. I have been in Mexico now for coming up to 4 months. This is the longest I have been in one place since I can remember. It’s a very good thing.
Happy New Year.
Jungle Journal
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!! Sending you all our love, seasons greetings and a big hug. This post is jointly written by us both, so we’ve labelled the writer at the beginning of each section.
Jayne: We’ve decided to skip Christmas this year. No decorations, we are not sending any Christmas cards, or giving presents, and it has been stress free, uncommercial and very nice so far. We’ve been invited to eat Christmas dinner with new friends in town on the 25th, and I am going to attempt to make pumpkin pies. So far the only troubles I’ve had are not having pumpkin, pie dishes or an oven. It’s all going exactly to plan. I’ve still got two days.
To be honest it doesn’t feel a lot like Christmas here in Mexico. When we do see a decorated tree, or one of the very few houses with lights on them, they seem somehow out of place.
It probably has something to do with the weather…
Beave: Our ability to manifest continues to surprise. Jayne wants local bees on the land. They produce a deep dark honey which is divine stuff. We get a call from a guy who wants to meet up. He is from Chapala and lives close to our illusionary mechanic there.
He has some bees he wants to relocate.
We agree to meet up the next day and potentially collect three hives from somewhere not to far away. The location turns out to be a cornfield less than a mile from our house.
Jayne: I spend quite a lot of time trying to define how La Colina will be in the future. It’s a constantly changing vision and every day we have new ideas, or change course slightly or make a wild new discovery. A few things have been constant however:
I am keen to have bees not only for their delicious honey and useful wax, but because bees are so important in keeping our planet alive and thriving, and without them so many plants would not survive. I want to nurture them and keep the planet happy. I was thrilled to hear that the bee man wanted to gift us some hives. However my only beekeeping experience is vicariously through my parents and sister, who have hives in Canada, and my very good friends Arielle and Jon, who have a honey farm.
Beave was nominated head beekeeper because he’s so strong, and the hives are heavy! I’ve seen my sister’s beesuit, and so I made Beave a bee hat by stapling mosquito netting around a straw cowboy hat, and duct-taping the holes shut.
Beave: I have no experience of bee keeping at all although I do know a fairly large crowd of apiarists. Somehow this qualifies me to be appointed chief bee mover. Jayne staples mosquito netting around a straw hat and puts me into a white long sleeve shirt with work gloves and wellies. I am fully protected and ready to go they tell me. Bee man fills a smoker with dried cow pats and in clouds of poo smoke I am introduced to a large amount of fairly pissed off Africanized Mexican bees. They are mildly more aggressive breed and especially today as moving was not in their plan. We wrap the hives in blankets and I carry them to a wheelbarrow. The hives are heavy and vibrating strongly with countless complaining noisy creatures. The buzzing is so loud that I am unable to hear Jayne who is trying to tell me something. I have something on my head apparently. The bees that were not captured in the sheet have all decided the best place to hang out is on my hat. There are hundreds of them up there. No wonder the noise is so loud.
My hands are vibrating strongly. I have learned very quickly that bees do not like the colour black. My black work gloves are covered in stinging bees. A few of them are getting through and it hurts. Thankfully these stings are nothing compared to the hornets and are soon forgotten. I haul the wheelbarrow with one of the sheet wrapped hives across a muddy cornfield three times. With my lungs full of poo smoke and my hands full of stings I am positioned in the back of the truck clinging onto many thousands of angry bees as we head towards their new home. It’s getting dark.
The off load is many times more dangerous. It’s now entirely dark and the torches and lanterns we are using glare my eyes through the mosquito net and also attract bees who are in stinging mood. There are yelps of pain from the torch carriers. “Don’t show the light to the beasts” shouts our bee man helpfully. I blindly and very slowly carry the hives one by one along our jungle path to an area of cleared jungle down a muddy slope. I must avoid tripping on tree stumps and sliding off the path at all costs. The prospect of falling in the dark with a hive of angry bees is not worth contemplating. Finally we have them set and carefully remove the sheets and retreat into the darkness. We return to the tree house to lick our wounds and contemplate our future of abundant honey.
Xmas is approaching. No apologies for lack of Xmas cards and presents. Replacing all that with genuine feelings of connection to all our friends and family. We are truly blessed to know you all.
Feliz Navidad x
La Colina Project
Hi Everyone,
Here’s my Dad’s final blog telling you all about the rest of his three week visit to us here at La Colina. We’re very grateful for all the help he gave us while he was here and the wonderful gifts. I think my favourite is the hot water in our shower!!! (Having our treehouse wired is a close second.)
Thanks Dad! Maybe he’ll start his own blog now he’s gotten a taste for it!
-Jayne
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Somehow Jayne seems to be at the right place at the right time too many times to be just a coincidence.
We had been talking on and off my whole stay about Shannon, a local San Pancho shop owner, who they had befriended. Shannon had loaned them his chain saw, and promised a generator and a sawzall. He had communicated with Jayne about a week and a half ago wanting the return of the saw, and saying he would dig out the generator and sawzall soon.
We decided to go last Sunday on a trip to find some Geocaches in the next town North of San Pancho. It is called Lo de Marcos. We travelled through this small town which is less tourist oriented than San Pancho, and on to a Geocache at the South end of the town, along a gravel/dirt road in the new Poly… Polaris RZR. As we stopped for the cache and were just out of the vehicle to walk down the road, the only vehicle we had seen since leaving town stops. It is Shannon, who lives just down the road at a great secluded beach!. He has a real estate office here and also a shop similar to the one in San Pancho.
Next day, we go into the shopping communities half way to Puerto Vallarta. First stop, the pool pump place which says the pool pump can’t be fixed, and quote 6500 pesos (over $400 cdn) for a new pump, of which they have a selection. Second stop is next door to the Ferreteria Gonzales, where we have been several times. I pick up a saw and a crowbar for the project. And next person in line is Frank, who we also have talked about many times as he is supplying the Solar Panel system for La Colina. With him is a pump guy who is helping Frank sort out a pump problem he has with his cistern, and they are picking up parts. Jayne chats, and soon we are following the pump guy through a few back streets to a non descript shop with almost no signage. It is a motor repair shop, who says he can fix the motor for less than a tenth of the cost quoted for a new pump. I just got a whatsapp message from Jayne saying she has picked up the motor, and it works fine.
A couple of days previously, Jayne asks where we are going to eat, and I suggest a backstreet establishment that she has commented on several times as being a “destination for locals of San Pancho”. The only persion sitting at the bar is a good friend Catherine, who we had met earlier, and announces she was moved to come to this bar, which she also does not frequent often. We have a great chat and she decides to go with us on Sunday on our Geocaching expedition in the RZR. We had a good lunch on the beach with her on our expedition.
This last week has been a whirlwind of fixing things and picking up the new Polaris RZR. It is finally all officially purchased and ownership transferred. To transfer ownership, one needs to have the previous owner present throughout the process, which involves many steps at three different office locations. Two of the three offices have to be visited twice. The third one checks out the VIN number on the vehicle by making three copies of the VIN number which is stamped into the frame, by rubbing it with some special transfer tape that copies the number by rubbing it. In the back of the last office is a large shear. We decide this is for cutting up used license plates, not for cutting off hands of unsuspecting clients. The whole process took about five hours over two different days. Fortunately seller Jim was very co-operative and allows us to use the RZR over the weekend with his registration and insurance still in place. It probably had more dirt and back roads than in it’s whole previous existence.
The RZR with it’s new plate. This is legal to drive on roads and highways in Mexico as it has a license plate.
Since we had to bring the RZR to get it’s new plate, it was only a ten minute ride from there to the PV Airport, where I am presently waiting to board the plane.
I have been struggling for a few days with mystery bites, mostly on my legs. All sorts of theories, are inconclusive. It has been the one downer of visiting. I awake at 3:30 am with severe itching, only to be calmed by some pain killer pills.
I keep expecting to find a tick crawling on me as Beave keeps having them removed. Jayne delights in using the credit card size tick remover I have
The card is effective, and another tick is removed. Jayne says this month is tick season. Seems strange as it is only a few weeks from the start of winter officially. I was looking forward to seeing the clouds of fireflies that Beave described in a previous blog, but alas only saw a few the first couple of days I was here and none since.
I am now on the plane, and my phone is not. I left it on the seat in the waiting lounge when I got up to board, and my smart watch confirms is is nowhere near me. A quick trip back to the lounge had no results… nothing turned in at the desk. I can only hope some honest person has picked it up and that someone will email me that it is found. I had put a new sticker on it this week with my email address.
It has no internet left on the Mexican sim card, so cannot broadcast it’s location to me as it dies.
I thought I would email Linda and Heather so they know my plight but the Westjet system is also having problems on the plane.
The other animal that is quite surprising is big spiders. I am told they do not bite, but do exude some noxious sticky substance. They extend as much as a hand spread. The local kids laugh and pick them up.
We saw at least four or more in the pump house for the pool as Beave did his magic to repair the broken valve using rubber repair sleeves I brought from Canada.
Here is one beside the small electrical panel to give a sense of size:
Cafe Arte is one of the many restaurants we have frequented in San Pancho during my stay. There is a bartender there who is a splitting image of our friend Jimmy in Calgary. He is watching over the new Geocache I have hidden there… the first in San Pancho.
The owner Ceci has not heard of Geocaching, but is very keen to host one.
Spoiler: She’s almost sitting on the Cache.
The local laundry in town has a walk up counter. Jayne walks up with our bag of laundry, tells them it is for Juana, and they tell her it will be ready tomorrow. I contribute what would be a $20 dollar load on the cruise ship, and my share of the bill is less than a tenth of that.
Down on the main street we see one of many local merchants… this one with a wheelbarrow of pineapples.
The Generator that J & B bought is 3000 watts, but only 1500 watts is available at 115V, which means that larger grinders, saws, and a portable welder that the door guy brought would not work on it. I modified the wiring quickly a few days ago to get the welder working, and then bought parts to put a permanent switch on it to choose More Power or More Voltage, which is still needed to charge Beave’s Makita batteries from a 230 volt charger brought from the UK. The wiring was a bit challenging as we could only find a separate relay and switch to install in an outboard box, with a rats-nest of interconnecting wires.
This was further complicated by my by redesigning the wiring diagram on the fly. After dark yesterday the wiring was complete, but my brain said it still was not correct. On sleeping on it, the problem clarified itself and I rewired it again for an hour and a half… the half hour looking for a dropped black screw… to have it burst into life and work properly in both modes. I left Beave and Jayne to sort out the loose wire that stops the generator from stopping with the on off switch. Meanwhile we were to be 30 km away meeting Jim to transfer ownership of the RZR… and Jayne phoned and texted with our apologies. Why is it there are always these last minute crises?
Washrooms when out travelling are a mixed bag. The most certain are that each government owned service station PEMEX have good washrooms. Only difference from what we expect in Canada is that in many the toilet paper dispenser is in a separate one outside the door to the whole washroom, or in the common area of the washroom. Many others in more private establishments may be completely missing paper or toilet seats.
For those plumbing oriented, the Mexican solution to a trap under the sink is interesting. Most all I have seen are a corrugated bit of plastic in various forms of a loop jammed into a rubber gasket at each end. To clean, you just easily remove one end. The corrugations collect any particles thrown down the sink, and keep the drain downstream cleaner. I like it.
Also it is interesting that houses are only serviced by a small half inch line to each house. This runs to a large plastic tank on the roof which has a float valve to stop the water when full. The house pressure is minimal. One sees a similar system in the older houses in England.
Wiring to houses and multi family dwellings have many electrical meters. Apparently the electricity is on a sliding scale, and if you use a lot the charges are very high to encourage people to conserve. I see lots of LED lights available here, so the energy saving is considerable. It is amazing that we have installed very good lighting in the Treehouse at La Colina that in total with all lights on is barely 100 watts… the power of one light bulb only a few years ago. I looked at a narrow but fairly high fridge in the Mega store and it is rated at only 120 watts. Jayne is to buy an even more efficient one once the solar panels are installed. It will be interesting to see how well the solar panel copes. The biggest load will be the swimming pool pump at about 8 times the power of a fridge… so it will have to be on a timer than allows it to run only an hour or so a day, so that all the pool water flows through the filter at least once a day. The pool has been fairly clean looking without the pump, with a bit of jungle junk at the bottom of the deep end. Beave fished a mouse out of the pool a couple of days ago… it was hanging on the side at one end trying to get out of the pool. Fell in, and swam under water the length of the pool. It surfaced, and Beave picked it out with the pool net, and it survived to tell about it… or did it. Read Beave’s blog. Jayne tests the water in the pool regularly and maintains the chlorine level and pH.
The first day of having the RZR, now called poli (Editor’s note: we are spelling it “Pauly”), I had it parked in front of the cabin. The local children from the next farm came over (the oldest works with Dad Rogelio) and looked all round the ATV. I had a mission that day to install the first of the direction signs I had brought at an intersection that is easily missed along the road to La Colina. I took the two with me with great smiles (unfortunately no photo) and installed the sign. There we picked up a large garbage bag of trash, and later went back with Jayne and Beave and picked up another bag full to clean up the area.
The correct direction takes one to a ford through an arroyo (creek), one of five along the route from the highway to the property.
Later on we came upon three of the neighbours riding along the road…
Our last evening before I came back to Calgary we had a great meal with a couple of locals Sharon and Paul. I had a Pina Colada (sin alcohol). We were entertained by a street performer dancing with a light bar and a ring of fire.
On the plane I was abruptly aware that I had left my phone in the waiting area of the airport. The stewardess let me go back to the desk to check, but it could not be found. I invested in internet on the plane to let Linda and Jayne know what had happened.
Several days later at home, and phone calls by me and later by Jayne from Mexico, we could not determine if the phone was at the airport. Saturday Jayne had to go to the airport, and did find out that the phone is there in lost and found, but could not pick it up for me until I send identity information and she comes back on a weekday. Jayne will pick it up, and I’ll see it when we get back to Mexico. Heather saves the day by loaning me an old phone of hers that works.
I also have been plagued for several days with itching from the bites on my legs, which has only recently become tolerable. Sure would like to know what sort of bug bit me, so I can be better prepared next trip. Life goes on.
We have just figured out on Google Maps that our proposed road trip in the new year to La Colina and then Sugar Land Texas, near Houston, and back to Calgary is calculated as 95 hours and 9526 km. Should be an adventure.
Alan
Jungle Journal
We have become very used to waking with the sun and collapsing after sunset. At first light we were loading pallets from a corral onto our pick up truck to create composting areas. Our large screen windows at home means that outside and inside are pretty much the same place less a few hundred bugs. This makes us sensitive to the subtle changes in moonlight, humidity and temperature. We wear welly boots far more often than is fashionably acceptable, our finger nails refuse to remain unfilled with muck and we moan to anyone who will listen how skint we are . Have never felt more like farmers.
Our visitor diary is filing up. Soon we will have no time to ourselves till at least March. This is not a bad thing, as we need help and did make this move to share our space. Jayne’s entire family will have come and gone by February and then a load of lovely Irish and Jake. In the meantime we will have friends from many places arriving for a few weeks and some welcome randoms who have contacted us through the website/blog . So many people arriving from afar bearing gifts. All this gives me faith that I will not run out of the essentials to life, the holy trinity of Yorkshire Tea/HP Sauce and Marmite.
With the prospect of paying guests in the near future we will have our work cut out. We appreciate the help from everyone who comes here and warn in advance that due to paying guests taking all the best spots you may end up in a hammock under a mosquito net but that’s not a bad thing here.
All the equipment for the magic sun power is threatened to manifest soon so our “ to do now list “ is expanding. We have to create a secure house for our lovely expensive much desired batteries and a 6m x 4M by at least 3M high rack at precisely 17 degrees to the sun to house our photon catchers. No mean feat. There is much talking to over enthusiastic welders, builders and other keen sorts. As gringos our quotes are usually with the addition of a zero or two. We have had quotes for the racking that differ by a factor of ten (no kidding ). We arrange to meet an iron guy from Bucerias who we know (and more importantly is considerably cheaper than everyone else) at an Oxxo carpark. We do the deal over the truck hood and arrange delivery next week.
So along with everything else we are preparing to power up the near 200M of electrical cable that Jayne’s Dad has managed to wrap our house in . Not bad going considering the house itself is only 6m x 6m . There is an extraordinary little box of tricks that plugs into the truck that powers the entire house from the 12V battery ! Feels like cheating but gives us a taste of what is to come.
We have noted that our “ with nature” farmers life is being eroded with the introduction of such major developments as hot water and power , USBs on the wall and more than anything else light bulbs. When there is light around body and mind stays with it for a lot longer. When it’s dark you shut down pretty fast. Part of me already misses the candle light and an excuse for an embarrassingly early night.
Water remains an issue. 2500L Tinacos and gravity are the answer. Great big wide heavy Tinacos. We have 5 of then now. Tinaco 1 is nearest to the wellhead followed by Tinaco 2 at the start of the new path across the land. The idea is to pump water from well to Tinaco 1 or directly to Tinaco 2 . We then use a bigger pump to get water from there across the land 130M to the top of the hill to Tinacos 3 & 4. These use gravity to feed the brick-shit house and Tinaco 5 above our house that can also feed the pool. A very simple plan except there are no Tinacos at the top of the hill.
We collect the most recently found one (Tinaco 3 ) and decide to add some gravity and drag the thing from its current very low resting place to the top of the hill. We collect it in the truck and deliver it to the tree house and survey the path up the hill. There isn’t one. At least half is at a cliff like angle and the rest completely overgrown. If we scramble from tree to tree it is possible to get up the top. The Tinaco however is a different tale. Blunt force and humour are our only weapons but somehow it works. I am on the ground with feet wedged in the most grippy bits of root I can find heaving on the rope while our man pushes and steers and his son takes the rope behind me and wraps it around a tree so we don’t have the thing disappear down the hill with me attached to it. It is a very dirty, sweaty and grunty affair. Somehow we make it.
Tinaco 4 is above our house. Timing is perfect as it is all but empty. The tree house is switched to Tinaco 5. It’s currently the last of the water on the North side. We attach rope to Tinaco 4 and a tree and launch the thing down the hill to be manhandled slowly across the side of the cliff and then upward ever upwards. Maustrappe has got herself curious and followed us up. She suddenly and hilariously reconsiders her position as the Tinaco swings downwards towards her. She takes off at a speed that suggests she has been shot from a cannon. My eyes can hardly keep up with the blur of cat that has flown past the house and is still going. We may never see her again. How we laughed.
Much more sweat, tick collecting , boy noises and close shaves later Tinaco 4 meets Tinaco 3 up the hill. Now if we can get these buggers filled we are all good for water North side. I retreat to shower myself and remove the first dozen ticks. I meet Maustrappe in the house with wide eyes and half her body weight in jungle stuck to her. I spend some time giggling and removing trees and shrubs from her tail.
My good Catalonian friend has ruined me for Mexican Spanish. I had very few Spanish words in my vocabulary a few short months ago. One of them was Cerveza (beer) surprisingly enough. I have been somewhat discouraged to learn that my perfect Catalonian dialect is considered a speech impediment here. I have had many a sorry look on a number of occasions when boldly and confidently asking for a Th’erveth’a. Wiping spit from their eye they offer a “bless the poor boy smile “. Szervessa?? Is he actually trying to say Szervessa??
The Mexican food here is inevitably accompanied by three options of chili-based condiment. One green and tepid for the tourists, one red and tongue stripingly efficient and finally the local brew which is dark deep purple and is effectively napalm. The locals slosh the stuff down them fearlessly. This has lasting effects on a chaps taste buds and mouth nerve endings. Local oral hygiene products are , therefore, things to be respected I have learned. I made the mistake of taking a modest slug of the local mouthwash and it was an event. The fresh tingle one would expect from a mouthwash is replaced with a turpentine burn . Inhaling the fumes is not recommended. The resultant noise I produced was , I am told, not pretty. I found only a mix of straight tequila followed by a shot of Mescal got the taste out of my nose and allowed me to speak again. I ended up with an industrially cleansed mouth and slightly drunk.
There was a lunch. We are in the midst of crazy day of buying all the things for as little as possible in the searing heat of Bucerias. It’s a tourist town that is the overspill of Puerto Vallarta. The Mexican Government has encouraged and promoted the whole area as the Cancun of the Pacific for years . There is a great beach and lots of restaurants to service the high population of tourists. We come across a French one with a French waitress and a French menu. I am teased with six oysters and then felled by rare beef in exceptional bread with jus. Now jus is just posh gravy but what a gravy !! A 2003 Beaune or an icy Chablis would have made this a perfect moment but I am in Mexico so Dos Equis XX Larger will have to do. Gravy ….I clearly miss gravy.
Strangely my French has improved enormously now I’m trying get Spanish into spaces in my overfilled brain. I often break into French when I’m trying my best to speak confident Spanish. When I search my limited Spanish vocabulary for a word I inevitably remember the French version. Not entirely useful.
The doors are here. Our iron artist from Las Varas and his young son appear early and I help him carry the doors up to our house, as his truck won’t make it. Jayne’s Dad performs electrical field surgery on the generator to allow the welder to work without blowing the fuse. Very impressive skills. This allows a new lock system to be melted onto the Bodega so our stuff in there ( and there is a lot of stuff ) is safe. There are also two strong boxes that have been made for us to secrete our more valuable stuff inside. One for us and one for our apartment. These will be bolted somewhere not-obvious yet to be decided. We return to find the house fringe trimmed and the front door installed. It looks epic. The skull door knocker we were gifted our first week here is integrated into the design. The shower door is also installed with our logo at the centre and there is even a door for Mausetrappe. Previous grotty security curtain is removed and we now have natural light pouring into bathroom. Our house has transformed from open plan “help yourself” to effectively secure. Our first real unique art commissioned and installed.
There is a further delivery today. After some buggering about with officialdom and agreeing to further buggering about in a few days and promise of cash we have taken delivery of Jayne’s Dads Polaris. I’m sure his own blog will more than cover the many hours of drudgery with Mexican officialdom before anyone owns anything and his excitement of driving back and heading into town for lunch then off up the hills afterwards. There is no stopping him now. We have named our newly broken in & muddied machine Pauly. Pauly Polaris.
Another delivery today was all the way from Colorado. New best friend arrives back after thanksgiving in his restaurant and collecting mail for us ! Jayne gets two pairs of new shoes and I get a brand new 24V DC well pump. We both get a gift package from a friend and that is brilliant. We continue to have no mail service here. No Xmas cards in or out this year. Good news.
The last delivery of the day is attempted/ supervised under fading light from a huge tipper truck that skillfully reverses into our parking spot on the South side and dumps a small mountain of sand. It’s destined to be a brown concrete sexy floor next week. We have a “Maestro” booked for two weeks to do all the clever stuff that is beyond the skill set of the rest of us. Took some days of negotiation and the promise of a cement mixer to get him to sign on. I have lugged many 50kg chunks of cement in preparation for his arrival. A slightly larger mountain of gravel is predicted tomorrow. Keep this guy in materials and we should have a battery house , a sexy apartment floor and base groundings for our newly ordered solar frame and posts for a front gate that we intend to up-cycle from the white house floor boards. They need replacing anyway.
Found some bowls in the local market and bought them. First spontaneous art purchase. Couldn’t help it. They got me. Not sure how they will be useful but they make me happy.
Swam today. Forgotten how good it feels to float in the Pacific. San Pancho has some serious shore break waves that have dumped me a number of times. There is an undertow and a drifting current so you have to have your head on when you swim. OK for strong swimmers but not for kids on the main beach. There are good kid friendly spots not far away behind the surf break we are told. Further investigation required. Floating on your back and watching the fish jumping around you and being overflown by pelicans just a few feet from your nose is a great way to relax.
Pressure is on to get an apartment ready to rent. We have put great faith in the Maestro . Too much perhaps. Bugger is that Maestros earn fairly good money and are (in our experience of ours ) a bit precious. We have furnished him with a concrete mixer he refuses to use, two helpers, a lift at 8 am every morning, a lift home and all the time in the world. To be fair in the Polaris we have the trip into town down to a nifty 6 minutes without racing. However, our “two day” job is looking more like 10 days … we are biting our lips as we have an apartment with heaps of concrete in a small amount of places of a brownish colour and nothing in most. We are starting to regret this process more and more as it eats into our funds. The result should be stunning so we are holding back our frustration with the pace of things. We are looking elsewhere for another maestro for the other jobs. Life is too short.
Small changes make a big difference here. The large river rocks that did for my thumb nail and my dignity have been distributed skilfully around the garden. This has created borders and allowed the fruit trees to stand out magnificently. It’s starting to look proper.
Our photon catcher frame arrived today. We take the Polaris to the beginning of our road and lead the unsuspecting iron guys through streams and bush to the path that our man has created at the very back border of our land . With a machete, a 4×4 and mucky bravado we dump 6m x 4m of steel frame with legs and bolts onto our sun trap. If we can get a battery house under way all will be good.
Now I do check pretty much daily the Bodega for mice. There is a humane trap loaded with peanut butter under the workspace. I am distracted for a few days by life and check on the trap that is now obscured by sheets and paint pots. The cage has a dead mouse in it. I missed it, I am responsible and feel terrible.
The pool has a dodgy valve and in order to examine the even dodgier filter pump it needs replacing. This required someone (me) to saw through a fully loaded pipe that will shoot swimming pol at high pressure into my face. While drowning standing up in a small concrete box full of ants and unfeasibly large spiders I am required to attach new pipe and connections with a bolt screw and my glasses pressed onto my eyes with the force of water. I manage this eventually in time to avoid drowning. Meanwhile Jayne’s Dad helpfully takes photos.
I clean out the pool of the worst floating flotsam in anticipation of the filter pump working. I am stunned most days by having to fish out the pool at least one ex-frog. I thought frogs could happily swim for many hours and if not have the sense to hop onto the pool steps. Apparently not. Despite attempts to deploy floating rest areas our ex-frog count is pretty high. There is also the occasional ex-mouse. I see a mouse attached to a plastic outlet on the side of the pool. It’s alive! I reach down with a net to save the thing and it dives in. I follow him as he swims the entire length of the pool under water. I did not know mice could do that. He surfaces into my net and I flick him to the relative safety of the jungle. Makes me feel a touch less guilty about the Bodega ex-mouse.
Jayne’s Dad has returned home. He has left us with extra tools, better knowledge, a fully wired house, guest blogs, a rewired super hero generator, the first ever geocache in San Pancho and a rather lovely Polaris to care for. We are very grateful.
The filter pump is shot. The motor has been living with humidity spiders and ants for too long and is no longer useful. We are told it must be replaced at great cost. By some universal twist of fortune we randomly meet our solar guy with his pump man who directs us to his motor guy who rewinds the motor for a fraction of the cost. We like saving money we haven’t got. We rebuild the pump and connect it up to all the plumbing (eventually without leaks) and set it off with our super hero generator We lose a bunch of water somewhere mysterious and I get a good bolt of hair raising electricity through me when I touch the motor . Our pool is being cleansed at last. The cleaner pool water is , however, noticeably less than when we started. More attention is required to prevent further water loss and electrocution.
Mausetrappe has taken to sleeping on my feet. Not terrible except for the occasional teeth in the toes cry for attention at 3am. My attention was full on when the crazy beggar decides to have a 4 am dikkie fit and flip about the bed until I am awake. My torch uncovers a cat torturing a mouse at my feet. That’s Mausetrappe 3 : Beave 5 . Sometime later I recover the nearly ex-mouse. I dispatched him junglewards and returned to kick the cat. She cleverly avoids me and retires to the balcony.
When I finally get back to sleep and awake too early ( to pick up Maestro,) I find the usual amount of half chewed and totally pawed bug parts. A cat gift apparently, for which I am presumable expected to be grateful. I am not. Amongst the bits we recognise at least one scorpion. Wake up call. The cat is a good weapon but not as good as the spray muck that scared away the ants. We apply it to the bed legs and doorways. Now considering every beast we know dislikes this stuff it is a fair bet it is not good cat food/lick. We shut the cat onto the balcony with water and food and go to work and leave her safe.
We return and she had gone. No sign on the balcony and no sign of any bits of ex-cat on the ground or under the house. The mystery is short lived. There is a cat shaped hole in the mosquito net door. I continue to be sleep deprived and ungrateful for the cat while I set about mending it … again.
We head to town to collect laundry and ice. On the way we take the plastic recycling pile that has accrued over the months. It’s a foul mess of spiders and unspeakable fluids and muck. By the time we have it all sorted into the right piles at the local recycling yard we are covered from head to toe in horrors. I go to the local Pemex petrol station and wreck their bathroom washing myself. I am dirty, damp and tired. Time for tequila or two. We head to collect the block ice that has been in the freezer at our friend’s bar for days waiting for us. We bump into friends and more friends arrive and before we get a chance to eat we are a Canadian down. Tequila, fatigue and no food have done their worse. Somehow, with a little help from our friends, I manage to carry her home and drive the truck at the same time. She is going to be embarrassed and rather unwell tomorrow.
It’s an early start today. We have Mausetrappe booked into the free clinic they have a few days a year in San Pancho to remove breeding bits. One cat/kitten is enough. She is not happy and moans loudly while clinging to me on the journey into town. Reminds me of the journey home last night. We manage to get her into a box at the clinic and Jayne gets to be embarrassed as our friends who helped us last night are helping out there today. Mausetrappe is a grumpy No.41.
Jayne is unwell. There is most sympathy from our man whose birthday it is today. He is 33. Only 33. He used to be a National rodeo rider and fight bulls. He has given it up ( almost) as he has been trampled a few too many times and once spent 11 days in a coma after having a bulls horn thrust in his head. He is a small guy but as strong as two oxen. His Dad is another story. I have not been able to work out how he swings a machete so well or lift rocks like he does at his age. He must be late 60s or early 70s perhaps. He is on his 4th wife we think. Turns out he is 58. I am staggered. Only 6 six years older than me!! Jayne likes this news very much and reminds me often just in case I forget for a moment. How kind.
We drive down to the river where the remains of the Parota tree still stand. We meet the guy who owns the tree and he tells us to take what we want. What we want is large lumps of wood to make outside tables. Left to us we would have happily made do with the 8 foot x 3 feet lengths left over from a previous wood snatch. We take these, of course, but our man then shows us a whole slice, of tree, which he wants to get into our truck. Now Parota is as heavy as concrete and this looked all but impossible. But we did it. The truck survived and so did we. We rolled it on like a massive tier and rolled it off the other the end (outside the orange shower block). It’s going to be amazing when it’s cleaned up. It will become an outstanding table and the other bits will transform into bathroom and kitchen counters.
We return to town to collect the cat. She is a great deal quieter on the journey home . Anaesthetic still very much in effect. Tripping her little face off. She gets home and staggers around with back legs splayed like a frog and eyes spinning. Another reminder of the night before…
Splitting bamboo is an art form. Ninja like our man and I set about the task. I orientate the bamboo lengths and angle it exactly as our 10 minutes of YouTube training showed us. He takes a machete and smashes it closer and closer to my face with a hammer. When it gets too scary we both take a side and pull as hard as we can and the bamboo cracks in half (ish). We have this process down to about two splits a minute but it is exhausting. We split enough to line the bathroom and shower then I paint them with anti-termite goo.
It has rained all night. Hard. I wake up and employ clothes for the first time in many months. I have long pants and socks and a hoodie on! The Polaris is fun in the mud , the apartment roof has had it’s first test and works amazingly well. We have a dry floor for “ Juan Juan the slow concrete man” to work with. To be fair the concrete mixer has had a workout and there is now a few extra tons of floor. The angle at which the current floor is tilted is requiring huge quantities of leveling. Thankfully the existing roof is well made and fully re-barred (as we found when trying to drill holes through for the plumbing) so will cope.
Friend arrives in a few days from Reno. Big push to get something to rent by Xmas. San Pancho is effectively fully booked January and February. Must take advantage of high season. We are making savings where we can to divert cash to building materials. Jayne has given up tequila apparently so that will help.
There now follows our first ( and probably not our last ) blatant self-promotion bit. In order to encourage a little cash flow to pay for concrete and sweat we are offering a few alternative Xmas present options for sale. Buy your loved one a bat, a bee or a tree. Check out our shop.
Jungle Journal
Hello everyone,
My dad’s back with another post about his visit to us here in the Mexican jungle. I hope you like it!
– Jayne
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Woke up early this morning and it is already December and I am to go home in 5 days. Jeannie let the cat out of the bag and revealed that I did find my camera after a couple of days… fallen between the seats of the Toyota truck. On it was the picture above of the beach scene at sunset, which we have seen only a couple of times.
The trip has turned out to be days of helping Jayne and Beave with many projects, the biggest being wiring the tree house for power, in anticipation of the Solar System arriving in a few weeks. They are on a mission, to which they are very dedicated, to recover the infrastructure created by the previous owner on this land, and putting it to good use. The plan is to get an income from renting out small apartments in the jungle. The balance is to create comfortable living spaces without costing a fortune, and not provide all “mod cons”, but enough to be comfortable.
San Pancho is a great tourist beach town. An active beach, getting busier all the time, and a main and side streets filled with many small restaurants that spill onto the street offering many kinds of food. We have eaten at quite a few different places… from low end to medium. All meals have been very well priced… many close to half what I would pay for the same meal in Calgary…. and yummy food.
Service is generally great. Most servers speak some English, but being with Jayne who spouts quite good Spanish, and Beave who is learning fast, most of the banter is in Spanish. My Spanish is still pitiful, but I can follow the drift of the conversation at times. Uno Masse… means another when it comes to drinks. Fresh Limonada made with local limes for about 2 Canadian Dollars.
We stop in a nearby town to order wood for Jayne’s composting toilets, and Beave’s window frames for the apartment above the workshop. Heather will go crazy looking at all the woodworking marvels in this shop, made from many hardwood trees that we only dream of. The yard is full of stacks of wood from large trees waiting to be made into furniture, etc. To order.
The road to the La Colina Jungle is a rough one. Five creeks to cross. Large rocks and holes. Some local houses in various states of repair and construction, from simple one room shacks to multi room houses. Two nights ago, the locals were congregated at one farm playing music on their guitars… there is music everywhere in town, with both musicians doing sets in many restaurants, and other itinerant groups travelling from restaurant to restaurant for tips. We saw even more in the neighbouring town of Sayalita, about 5 km down the highway.
This prompted a discussion about renting out a 4 seater ATV to guests, and we went on a mission to look at one that a contact had found for Jayne. It is a Polaris RZR 800. It was bought by it’s owner, a part time resident from Toronto, and he now wants to upgrade to a new one. This has had little off road use and looks like new.
We negotiate a price, and agree to buy it. Since I am investing in this machine, and will get to use it while here, I have to convince Linda to approve the purchase. After some discussion, she reluctantly agrees to my mad purchase. We pick it up today.
My home away from home “Dad’s House”, as Jayne calls it, is serving me well. I only come down here at night and it has been comfortable. The nights got colder and Jayne has provided a comfy duvet which makes getting out of bed into the cold plus 17 degree celcius air more of a challenge. Last I looked Calgary is in a warm spell around minus 2.
We went to a local “garage sale” in Puerto Vallarta and picked up a mirror for it…. along with deck chairs for the pool, light fittings, etc.
The only light I have in the accommodation is provided by the LED lantern I brought for Jayne and Beave as a housewarming gift. Once the solar panels are in, and wiring done, it won’t be needed here.
The jungle does offer lots of bugs of all sizes. One in the house is spiders. The flat ones don’t bite, so I am told.
On the trip to Puerto Vallarta I got to show Jayne and Beave a tower that we had found on our previous trip here a few years ago while geocaching.
It is right in the middle of town, and one would not know it was there if we had not been looking for the cache.
Great views of the city.
Still on the mission to get internet from the town. We climb to the highest spot on the property and find an even better view of the hill with the house in town that we hope will provide a link spot. It is on the left of the right hand hill in the photo. Folks from the house arrive this weekend… so may possibly hear from them before I leave on Tuesday, but if not the negotiation will continue with Jayne and Beave.
All over the property are mystery pipes. In the ground. On the ground. Broken ends… where do they go? Some we have traced. Most are unusable as are so old that they break when water is added. We used a piece from one yesterday to provide a piece to hopefully fix a broken valve on the swimming pool.
Jayne and Beave keep mentioning Tinacos… these are water storage tanks that hold about 3000 litres each. There are five of them on the property, and are/will be refilled from either the waterfall water or the well. A solar powered water pump is somewhere in transit, and the water system is such that water will be pumped from one tank to another further up the hill.
Moving this has come to be done by the local Mexican family living next door and working for Jayne and Beave most days, along with Beave’s assistance. The tanks are now in place, but what a challenge moving them, and Beave acquired several ticks on his body in the process. Somehow he picks them up almost daily, yet I search and haven’t found one on my body yet. Just mystery bites on my legs… not sure what has bitten them but they itch from time to time.
Mousetrappe cat is a real joy… very active in the house and takes an interest in everything. The younger Mexican son Rogelio was playing with it during the Tinaco moving. A few minutes later I see a streak of a cat running at full tilt down the hill as a plastic tinaco swings on the hill from a tree… apparently a planned move by the tinaco movers, but not a planned thing for poor Mousetrappe. Beave removed half a jungle from it’s fur later on, and the cat is still in good form.
I finish with the story of my fall. Not fall from glory… just tripped on the bottom step of the first part of the stairs at the tree house when I was walking down to turn off the generator under the house. Landed flat on my side after stopping my crash with my right hand, creating a 3/4 inch long surface gash. Nurse Philip in Vancouver is consulted.
The major drama was that I just missed a fairly large rock by an inch that could have created serious damage to my hip bones. Close call. (My hip was where my shoe is in the photo)
We picked up the Polaris RZR today…. did part of the paperwork, rest happens Monday. Four different offices to visit. It ran well on the trip home and is great on the Jungle roads. More next blog.
Alan
Jungle Journal
Still working towards getting our place ready to rent out. Making it fun. This blog may be a little ranty but it’s cathartic so forgive/ignore as necessary.
Our man wakes us as the light sets in proper about 8 am . He rides his donkey with no name noisily up the hill and delivers milk fresh from the cow. He insists it gives super powers. Few hours chilled and it is amazing stuff. He leaves with the donkey towing a lump of tree which is to be our new gate posts.
Our friend is a white witch healer in the town. She is a gentle and generous soul who only wears white and is seen with her two small rescued dogs that never leave her side. She takes local milk and cream and mixes it with honey from the hills and makes ice cream in jars. I was stabbed with a fork (not in a very healing, generous or gentle way I may add ) because I could not resist taking down the last jar she had.
My phone remains drowned. Our life saving methods including weeks in rice and anti-humidity crystals have failed to revive. I am not missing it at all. I have decided not to replace it for the foreseeable future. Lack of photos/camera is an issue I need to deal with (apologies).
I have progressively become more judgey as I see phones consume people’s lives. When stuck in airports I used to head to a bar and pass time chatting to random strangers. These days a screened device transfixes every single person in the bar. Saying hi or even making eye contact results in anger, suspicion or even fear. I’m not that scary.
It came home hard to me when I was in San Francisco. This city is extraordinary but you need to work 3 jobs for 7 days a week to make rent on a shared broom cupboard. I walked downtown in the middle of the day looking at my own phone following a map. I looked up and noticed that on the other side of the road there was a shantytown of homeless people. My side of the pavement was packed with suited people and tourists. All staring at screens as they walked. All of them. Literally all of them. On one side of the street I could not make eye contact with a single person if I had wanted to. On the other the homeless guys sat quietly and watched over at everyone marching past ghostly unaware. At first I thought people were distracting themselves, a way to ignore the homeless situation right there on display. After a while I realised that it didn’t matter what was around them . They were in a different place. Not here where I was. They were buying things for imaginary farms, or swiping left or right, or putting bunny ears on pictures of their kids they never see.
I recently spoke to a Doctor in Manchester who sees the results of children & young adults living through screens. I-pad attachments for prams and pushchairs are popular these days. She observes that there is a growing population that has lost the ability to emote. They have learned to express happy things with a smiley face and bad things with a thumbs down grumpy face emoji. It apparently extracts them from real emotions and the ability to recognise human feelings. It’s a worry.
Again my own hypocrisy in this matter is under review.
We do use Facebook to keep in touch with real-life friends and family spread far and wide and do find it a useful tool (if I avoid posts about how cute someone thinks their baby is or worse their cat.) We don’t approve at all of the Orwellian overtones of being constantly monitored and “influenced” by managed content but I avoid the like button and use a VPN so if the sneaky buggers want to find out were I am, what shoes I have just broken or how to make me vote for Trump then good luck with that mate .
Google is our friend. As a fact checker it helps and as a “how to do “ oracle of all knowledge its invaluable. Who knew how little I actually knew. Not me. Our website and our blog will be promoting us and so we are unashamed users of the great web of everything. If, however, you see me with my head in my phone when the sun is setting behind me and I’m surrounded by butterflies and birds and sexy people are trying to engage with me please please please give me slap. I see this happening all the time and it drives me nuts.
So we have come to understand the real addiction people have to their phones. We must make a plan to reluctantly service this addiction. We plan to promote our jungle experience as an opportunity to raise ones screen face upwards and engage but also recognise this will reduce our rental potential with those that can afford a few quid. We are told that American tourists here can do without water, food and a bed but not Wi-Fi. It’s an issue as the waiting list for new Wi-Fi connection in San Pancho is currently two years (not joking).
Because of this we have contacted the owner of the only house we can see from our land. Jayne’s Dad and I installed a rope up the treacherous hill behind us to give us better access to our water storage. If you make it up that far without falling too dramatically and squint with your head at a certain angle while hanging onto a tree there is a faint white spot that you may or may not be able to make out at the top of the furthest hill. That’s the place. Our first plan is to find a spot in town ( we have a number of target options) and bounce what internet we can to this white dot and redirect it to us so we can further distribute it around our hill. This is the result of Jayne’s Dad studying satellite imagery of the area and learning about such technical matters for weeks leading up to his visit. Not something we would be attempting on our own.
The alternative is to take our brand new temporary Mexican residence cards to Telcel (who have a tower near us that provides serviceable Wi-Fi at a price ) and get a decent data plan and share that. We are looking at both options for fun.
The recovery of the land is a constant amazement. We found a path ( I use the royal “we” as it appeared after the boys took their machetes out for the afternoon ). This wide perfect path crosses the land from North to South and connects one side to the other. It starts at the highest water Tinaco on the North side near the solar area and end up at our pool. On this path is another water Tinaco we discovered . This is great news as they are not cheap and are immensely useful. When plumbed in will feed the bricksh*t house shower. This is good news as we can set up glamping when we have power and connect water and buy tents and dig terracing and all the other things …..
Now I always had the impression that Canadians were a hardy lot who forged streams and skied mountains and laughed in the face of snow and ice. Well the two from Calgary that are here are letting the side down. I am swimming in the delightfully warm pool while these two shiver and moan about the slight cooling effect of getting in. It is currently minus 16 in Calgary by the way !? They are in cahoots and its not long before they have bought pipe and boxes are emptied and gas is diverted and holes are drilled and before too long there is steaming hot waterfall coming out of the taps. Hot water showers !! Softies. Jayne’s Dad is spoiling her rotten.
The streams and rivers are all running slow and low. The result of this is algae is forming so we drive over green water these days. The seasons bring different gifts of nature. September is fireflies, October is hornets and wasps and November is ticks. We trekked up to the top of the hill and I ended up following a water pipe right through the jungle. I did not take a machete so I had both hands free and I needed them. At one point I was suspended above the ground by vines. An inelegant untangling later I descended through a lot of sharp pointy thorny stuff and ended up on the new pathway at the newly found water Tenaca. A gang of ticks must have had a right laugh following me and jumping on board. At the last count I found seven of them snacking on me. Good job there is no Lyme’s Disease in Mexico. Just well entertained, well fed ticks. I must be delicious . They don’t bother with anyone else.
San Pancho energy is building again. More new places to eat , shop, drink and spend tempt us daily. Many pinky brown tourists spending lots of money on rent. There are still the obligatory stunning sunsets . We have found a sexy bar that serves just about perfect Margaritas while we watch a lot of very thin bronzed and perfectly tattooed floppy haired local youths getting their surfboards wet and slack lining off palm trees.
No escaping the world really. I am in the back of our pick up truck just leaving our very favorite local ladies (who sell us the best cooked chickens) and a helmeted guy on a scooter shouts at me. Do you know “the Poyntons”? … Now much as I never like to admit knowing those crazy buggers I was wrong footed by surprise and confusion. Turns out this bloke from Cape Town knows us all from Afrikaburn and recognised me from there 2 years ago. I had thrown ice at him (we ran ice sales). He jumps in the truck and he gets the tour and lunch and heads back to his new job in PV. We now have our newest volunteer but worryingly more incentive for the Poyntons to turn up!
The past days have been swallowed by designing a battery safe house and solar panel racks. We have also spent ( invested) an age in Ferreterias, electrical and wood shops spending (investing) pesos. We are using Jayne’s Dad skills acquired by building scout camps and his own house . He is currently deployed wiring up our tree house for the arrival of magic sun power. We have gotten used to no power and having no lights and other such luxuries. Candles , head torches and early nights for us. When we test actual light bulbs on the generator it is like coming out of a cave. Seeing things all lit up. We had sort of forgotten the rather significant benefits of seeing things. Our floor needs a mop.
Much swearing and gnashing of teeth from me as both my batteries for my beloved Makita impact driver and drill fail. No charge and no charging. Trips to bloody useless Makita dealer and offers of extortionate priced inferior replacements later I finally clock the obvious. Feelings of both relief and stupidity as I remember we live in a 110v world here. We use the generator 240V outlet to power the 240V charger unit which charges them up as normal. Language and teeth noises improve.
Someone just told me it’s a month till Xmas. How did that happen ! We are not exposed to TV or media hype or advertising so it’s passed us by. By this stage in UK I would be in mild panic mode trying to organise all the things. Not happening here. Not a cracker to be had . I did buy a box of Mi-Julie dates which has made me slightly Xmassy and we picked up a litre of eggnog which we can traditionally ignore for a year or two and throw out when we get around to it. We spotted a sorry looking tinsel tree on a shack today by the side of the road and at the traffic lights someone was selling inflatable penguins alongside the usual lumps of suspicious looking sugar cane and stolen flowers so we are not completely removed from it all.
Surprise turn of events. Jayne’s Dad has become our first investor. We have a number of investment opportunities here (relax this is not a sales pitch) we are working on but he just might have the sexiest. He has just bought a Polaris. Now this Polaris is a 4 seater ATV which is top of the range and very highly sought after by those who know. Amazingly they are advertised for rent at over $250US a day in PV and are ideal for our land and our access road. We can rent our places here with a Polaris at a fair old whack. We need to modify the Bodega to get it through the doors but that should not be too much drama. This is good news. Should get delivery later this week. Want to rent a Polaris mate ?
La Colina Project
My Dad, Alan, has come to visit us in the jungle for three weeks. He’s been reading my blogs since I started blogging in 2012 and decided a couple of days ago to write one for La Colina Project. I hope you enjoy the new perspective of my Dad’s very first blog.
– Jayne
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I decided to come to Mexico to check out what Jayne and Beave are really doing here…as it sounded like quite an adventurous project, and indeed it is and then some.
I packed a picnic cooler with 20 kg of goodies for them including light bulbs, a soldering gun, a watt meter with a whole bunch of wires, plastic cards for direction signs, and a can of shingle nails to nail them up, and two quart jars of special fix-it lube for their truck to solve it’s transmission and differential problems (plus other tools, etc.). I was concerned all the way down on Westjet that somehow some security person seeing this on an xray machine may think this is suspicious. We left Calgary ok and on time, and landed early. The cooler was there… but I couldn’t find the carry on bag that I graciously let Westjet put underneath, as the plane was full and they asked for volunteers to put carry-ons under to free up overhead bin space. Turns out that a guy at the end of the belt in the airport was just taking off random bags including mine to save room on the belt, and it was hidden in with other luggage.
Customs then asked me where I was going, and then said push the red button. Turns out this button is a lottery to decide if your luggage will be searched by xray and hand, or give you a green light to walk out. Mine was green, so the cooler made it through without a hand search.
Then they asked me for the cart holding all my stuff before I got out to the main lobby, meaning dragging the other two cases as I struggled with the cooler… just around the corner, I thought there would be Jayne and Beave to assist… but not to be. Traffic from home had delayed them, and they showed up ten minutes later, all big smiles.
Their blue and white van was just across the street in the parking lot, and Jayne had the parking ticket for exit in her hand as they helped me load my luggage in the back, and gave me the seat of honour in the front. We get to the exit of the parking lot, and the ticket has disappeared. After some discussion with the parking attendant by an overheated looking daughter, he says he will not lower the price of what appears enormous in Pesos, but is only about twenty times the parking rate. Jayne backs up the van, and the search is on for the ticket. After 5 minutes, the ticket magically appears by my luggage, but now the machine beeps and won’t let us out. Turns out too long was taken looking for the ticket, and an additional charge is due for more parking time. Frustrating.
The ride up to La Colina was an interesting one, through a big city, country towns, and finally some two lane paved road with just trees, and massive traffic on the road. We then arrived in San Francisco, which the locals call San Pancho, and decide to go in and eat before it gets dark. We then sat in a bar on the beach and saw the last of the sunset, and a main street lined with many restaurants and other small tourist trap shops. Jayne sorts me out with a Mexican SIM for my phone that costs one quarter of what Rogers roaming would cost me for my stay here, and top-ups of internet are cheaper too.
The road to La Colina is from that point a real adventure in itself, and of course at night is just a tunnel of folliage and ragged barbed wire fencing with very rough dirt road with some larger stones, and four or five fords across various bits of creeks. There are a couple of random street lights in the middle of nowhere near the end of the power lines, just over half way, and several houses in the distance with the odd light. We arrive at the bottom of the property, and I am escorted into my new home for the next three weeks, which looks like an old Gypsy trailer from the outside, and a well worn, freshly painted RV on the inside with a double bed, and a table and benches that can eventually become a single bed once some cushions are fabricated. I am told the stairs to the yellow door have just been fabricated Rustico in my honour. Look like chain saw cut logs. The accommodation is quite comfy, and I am glad I brought my newly bought Red Lantern.
The whole of the land is on the side of a hill, with part of it then wrapping over top of a ridge. A small bit is sort of a clearing, which a couple of days later magically gets cleared using machetes to make a large open area where the solar panels on order will be located. There are trees everywhere, with small clearings around the buildings.
Since the whole place has been unused for 4 years, and subject to vandals removing anything of perceived value, and leaving large messes, and a jungle doing its best to reclaim what used to be nice buildings and walking paths through it… and even the area around the buildings, great amounts of brush clearing have happened by the three Mexicans hired from down the road who have accomplished an amazing amount in five weeks….along with a lot of work by Jayne and Beave.
Amazingly, not everything of value has been removed, and some of the infrastructure still remains hidden, like a giant puzzle. I have already been following mystery pipes and wires using a dowsing pipe, and will be doing more in subsequent days.
The Treehouse that Jayne and Beave are living in is majestically up on the side of a steep hill, with the swimming pool some 15 meters down and 50 meters away, near the edge of the property. The pool is in amazingly good shape, but needs some more troubleshooting to fix some piping before the pool pump will run and filter water. The water is amazingly clear, but cool.
The Treehouse is a single large room with the magnificent homemade bed with mosquito net screening like a sultan. They have given me similar netting in the Gypsy cottage, but the mozzies are not very vicious at the moment and only appear occasionally.
The main deficiency is that there are no permanent lights, and J&B have been living like the middle ages with candle light and flashlight head lamps, and tiny fairy lights left over from some past burning man festival. They brought some solar lights that do not work. They marvelled at the amount of light from the Coleman lantern.
We immediately started talking of putting in electric lighting… and I bring out my package of a dozen LED light bulbs I bought for 50 cents each at Rona, as they were subsidized by the Alberta Government last month to the tune of $3 per bulb. I am told that wiring is a priority while I am here, and we subsequently spend three hours of our Saturday afternoon at an Electrical parts supplier deciphering Mexican ways of wiring, and come up with enough bits to wire to almost Canadian standards, which is higher than the Mexicans… I marvel as I walk along the town streets and see many electrical cables and boxes that are totally installed to be practical but not up to our Canadian standards.
We now have a plan, and hopefully in a couple of days will have some permanent lights in the Treehouse, which will be for now powered by the generator, but later on by the solar panels.
We lucked out and the Electrical supplier had a 10 percent sale on everything for Revolution Day weekend, and also had some additional specials on some neat little hot water demand heaters at about $70 Canadian dollars each. Jayne is thrilled, cause she wants hot water showers. So in the end, three are purchased… two for La Colina, and one for me to take home to put in the garage, or at the Scout Camp. Once the required bits to pipe one in are in hand, the Treehouse may have hot water later this week.
We discuss ways of attracting possible guests for the facilities here, and Bird watching, and Geocaching are mentioned. There are many birds here. In Canada I listen to CBC radio in the early morning. Here, it is a collage of many birds, and other creatures creating a dull hum in the night, with the occasional larger noise. There is a continuous shedding going on in the forest… with crashes of larger palm fronds, and other bits. I comment: I don’t want to be standing under one. I also think I hear small creatures wandering outside, but not sure. There are dogs on the next farm that are very loud from the Treehouse, along with the farmer yelling at his cows.
The geocaching discussion continues with thinking if our family created 81 caches in the area… one each of every possible difficulty and terrain, that some cachers would be attracted to find them all…. and perhaps stay here. Heather replies that we would have to cheat on terrain…but I don’t think so… there are many steep treacherous slopes here that could be rated 5 out of 5 with no question by any finder. In fact, J&B insisted that a rope be installed on the hill behind the Treehouse to the water tanks on top of the hill so one has something to hang onto while going up there.
We have been for several meals in San Pancho, all very tasty, and J&B are greeted many times by servers they know, or other locals they have met. It is a very friendly atmosphere, and there is no sense of threat from the Mexicans…or the tourists, of which we meet many also.
Yesterday we parked in San Pancho with the truck, just recovered from the mechanics clutches. Across the street there was a black flashy ford, with a number of Americans, turns out from Houston Texas. They have this car from a friend, and the keys have been taken swimming… the electronics in the battery operated key now scrambled enough to not start the car, but only activate flashing lights, horn, etc. to which no one in the area are even looking at. The American girl asks for a boost. Jayne gets out Jumper cables, and hails down a car, so she does not have to move the truck and lose the parking spot, which is convenient on this busy Sunday evening. The car is boosted, but the Ford does not want to burst into life. The key corruption is stopping it starting. Monday is Revolution Day, a holiday… so good luck finding someone to sort out this car soon. I noticed it is still there on Monday.
Jayne says she feels safe here… apparently in these established tourist areas, there is not much gang activity, as the whole Mexican economy depends on the tourists.
The tragedy of the day is I have lost my camera, with all of my photos. Fortunately I do have some on Beave’s computer as I gave him a copy of most of them I have taken since I have been here. Hopefully it will show up, as I took some great photos at sundown on the beach last night.
I have been in discussion for some time with Jayne about the possibility of putting in some local internet dishes to move internet from San Pancho, via an intermediate house on a hill, to here. Good news is I can see the house in question from the hill behind the tree house. We await confirmation of the rest of the plan. So the saga continues, and it is an interesting exercise. I can see why things take a while to sort out here.
Jayne and I walked the road up the back side of property to the adjacent waterfalls. Another road with fords across creeks. The waterfalls are quite magnificent and totally undeveloped, with water coming across a width of about two meters. There are a couple of hoses there that feed water to several local farms, and now parts of La Colina has water from there also. Apparently this is the only local water source that is available year round. Like many jungle areas, there are two seasons in the year: rainy, and hot and dry. We are just nicely into the hot and dry, and thus the tourists are arriving.
Today is Revolution day, and we went into town and had waffles after watching a street parade with local children doing various gymnastics… diving through a fiery hoop onto a mattress, and climbing one each other making a human pyramid. There were a few horses at the end, and a band. We came back and decided it is too hot to install electrical plugs, so I am now writing this blog, trying to help Heather in Calgary sort out her phone, and eventually make a phone call that works to Linda who is with our granddaughter Rochelle and mom Kelly in Vancouver for a week. Generally the weather has been tolerable, but it is indeed getting a bit warm in the afternoons.
I have to watch what I touch. Beave is constantly getting bites, and bits. He has had three ticks or more land on him since I have been here and the card type tick remover I brought down from MEC has worked well. We haven’t tried the tweezers with the little hooks on the end yet. I just moved a couple of pipes outside without gloves and something on the second one created a deep burning sensation on my finger. The dirt just seems to collect under fingernails from nowhere.
Anyway, we are having a great time and I have been able to help with some projects… Two more weeks in the jungle to go.
Jungle Journal
Been out in the jungle now for 6 weeks. Seems like a huge amount more time has passed…. in a good way. No regrets and much achieved. Tourists are arriving into San Pancho and beach life there is in full swing. I need to preface this by declaring I am perfectly healthy and at no time has there been serious risk to my being . No need to worry Mum.
There is a lot to do and so we have to prioritise. No real routine has evolved but our current focus is getting the apartment above the Bodega and the area around it ready to rent out. We need an income. Our toilet block is now a delightful orange hue. Plumbing repairs to follow shortly. All the high value brass pipe has been nicked so we have a plan to replace it with low value plastic.
I have recently been spending a great deal of energy mending and replacing many screen windows. I’ve even built my first two from scratch. After a while swearing at the wood, pulling bugs out of the varnish , straightening bent nails, and hammering my multi-coloured thumb, time takes on a different dimension and allows you to think about the bigger things, manage your expectations, appreciate the brief moments of success and not be too attached to the result. It’s very much like supporting Newcastle United. Slightly less emotional perhaps.
The apartment is now bright blanco inside and out. As well as the first of the new beautiful screen windows there has been the addition of a solid staircase to get up there created by splitting a tree in half. It’s just the right side of janky. Rustico! is the design theme. We love it.
There has also been a further creation of a large impressive floating Mezzanine area with an even jankier (Rustico!) stair/ladder. We have decided not to make it feel too safe to get up to it and to leave off any safety railings or handrails. We are not aiming to make this space very child friendly or idiot proof. We are arranging for a jungle contract, which will exonerate us from lawsuits. It’s a jungle. Things happen. Be aware and take reasonable care and all will be well,.
Solar planning is also full on. We have realized that trees and sun make shade. The brick-shithouse area is ginger friendly. Only a few hours of baking sunshine a day. Protons bounce off treetops rather than hit the ground where we intend to make our sun energy magic happen. Change of plan. We have now cleared a huge swathe of jungle on the South face of the hill. What used to be a huge Palapa and deck area still stands on shaky bug eaten legs with no roof and a stolen deck clearly elsewhere. Our plan is to have our proton catchers in this sun trap and rebuild the deck. It’s a beautiful spot tucked away and boarded by the stream running from the falls. Should be water running for the next month we think.
Water is disappearing. The well has dropped a meter or two and the creek has all but dried up. We see some pools in the morning and nothing by the afternoon. So only 4 streams to cross to get to us now.
As the water levels drop there is a steady pilgrimage from San Pancho to the streams to collect rocks. River rocks are used everywhere for building and decorating and gardens. Pick up truck loads are removed. So before our best rocks end up cemented into someone’s bathroom we gather and take the Toyota down to the wide stream to test its suspension.
We park mid stream and load up the truck. These boys are small but immensely strong. Even granddad is picking up boulders half his size. The 15 year old is pushing stuff around twice his weight. There is a macho thing happening and I am getting sucked into it. We wait until the rear springs look stressed enough and return to our newly dug out parking area and start to make a rockery of stored stone.
We go back for another load. We want bigger boulders apparently. Granddad is throwing the largest lumps and so I chose a biggish one, which is testing my strength. I get to the tailgate and make the effort to load the thing onto the growing pile and suddenly see sky. The river is very slippy and I have lost my footing. I heave the boulderaway from me as best I can in mid air and land not entirely elegantly in the river. I sit there examining myself and avoiding fuss. Granddad points out a large rock close to my head that I avoided hitting. It’s far enough away and amongst a large number of similar things I avoided so no drama. My ribs are a touch bruised and my thumb (which successfully caught the boulder on the way down) has a very pretty blue nail. It turns darker as I watch. It might not make it. We collect a further couple of loads and then call our rock store complete.
We greet our iron maker who arrives to survey the house for our new doors. Designs are approved and he leaves to get creative. They will look brilliant and make our house secure and sexy.
We then welcome our solar guy & his wife to survey the new chosen location before it is cleared. We make the trek with a couple of friends who also arrive at the same time and bring us beer & Mezcal . This is by far the most people we have had our here in one day. It’s a nice change of pace. All is well until we head back and the hornets reappear. This time they ignore me as I pass them swinging a machete and hit our solar friends hard and fast. Not good. We get to the hosepipe and apply waterfall as quick as we can. Thankfully they are on their way to surf so their day can only improve. We drink beer and Mezcal with our remaining sting free friends and feel guilty.
The hornets have perished under a cloud of OKO. Our brave crew who cleared the land for the solar took spray cans of this specific noxious stuff which they know to be the best thing to discourage the buggers and distributed it onto every nest they could find. Not a job I would have wanted. I only got hit a few times but it was always sudden and unexpected and very painful. You don’t see them coming.
So we have exterminated the hornets. I also killed two large black torpedo shaped flying noise machines that were making sleep impossible. They sounded like helicopters, old broken noisy ones. I felt guilty afterwards, awaiting my Karma. Now I am no Jainist or vegan and my personal level of hypocrisy when it comes to respecting life and beasts is under constant review. I do try and respect life in all its forms and don’t make a habit of swatting flies or poisoning mice/rats. I save frogs and hopping things from the cat daily. I do, however, smack mosquitos to death regularly. My love affair with termites, scorpions and cutter ants is tenuous to say the least. I admit to ending a number of them. We are avoiding the very many recommended poisons designed to kill everything creepy or crawly. We are a source of food to many things and sorta kinda put up with it. Ticks are, however, killed on site. So far the rooster has survived the cull.
Snakes have appeared. Found a tiny baby one curled up under a block I moved which was cute but I kept my eyes out for its mum. Had a few other larger versions ignore me and cross my path quickly. We heard a loud distressed noise from under the house. it was dark but we traced the noise to a mouse that was looking directly at us and was clearly unhappy. I had my suspicions that this mouse was in trouble which was confirmed when we noticed that it is partly inside a snake. I hope that wasn’t Mortimer.
We are becoming very blasé about sharing our space with nature. I work beside the largest spiders and flick all sorts of bug and beasts from my face and hair regularly. I did, however, have my resolve tested when we arrived home a few days ago.
Still gulping air from the walk up the hill I noticed a trail of black ants on our stairs. Not cutter ants and not red ants so nothing to be worried about. I get to our recycle bin next to our door, which seems to be the ants’ destination and find a swarm of them over some unfortunate ex-beast that is all but consumed. Then my feet (which are in my last remaining unbroken sandals) get bitten. Many times. It hurts a lot. We get into the house quickly. I protect my aching feet with rubber welly -boots and head to the balcony to get a broom to counter attack. As I get to the screen door it appears to move. There are ants all over it. I open the door and shut it behind me very quickly. The decking is completely covered in ants. The screen windows are completely surrounded by ants. I check where they are coming from and the walls are covered in lines of ants. I attack. My broom eventually propels half of them over the side but more replace them. They are coming from everywhere at once. It’s biblical. I am now armed with a kill-everything poison spray bottle that we have avoided using except spraying the door-frames to repel scorpions. The ants thankfully don’t like it at all. With thrusts of broom and mists of gunk they start to retreat. A long few minutes later the deck is ant free. I return to the front door and return the remaining invaders to the jungle. I empty the last of the spray on the stairs. Tripe has vanished. Don’t blame him!
We have arranged a day off to meet up with a couple that are friends of our Chapala mechanic ( who we think is hiding from us or has died.) They are working in a dog rescue place not far away and are from New Zealand (we can forgive them that.) Good to see things here through fresh eyes. Also good to have a map of local surf breaks they have tried out. I must get my board wet soon. After the grand tour we end up in Sayalita indulging in one our favorite local delicacies. It’s a burrito without the tortilla, which is replaced with a sheet of fried cheese packed with whatever you like. Fresh octopus in a fried cheese casing is my idea of heavenly heart attack food. The kiwis are off to buy a van in Chapala and then travel Mexico. Sure we will meet up again.
We are preparing for a VIP. Jayne’s Dad is arriving from Calgary for a 3-week visit. The apartment is far from habitable yet so this involves a lot of very hasty upgrades to the “Gypsy Caravan” or shed as I call it. Holes are mended, locks fitted, paint is applied, waterfall is plumbed in, beds are made. The whole of it is cleaned for the first time in many years. It looks pretty good considering. Finishing touch is the obligatory janky (Rustico!) staircase up to the door. I was told the Queen thinks the world smells of paint because everywhere she goes has just been redecorated. I wonder if he will notice.
Our schedule has been interrupted as we have taken some days off to attend a four-day “Architectural Bamboo “ course. We have a heap of bamboo and an endless supply locally, which we want to use. We have a lot of experience building various temporary structures with bamboo around the world. We want to learn more so have negotiated a significant cheeky discount and off to Sayulita we go.
We now understand that bamboo is not good in the wet, or the sun. We also know that bugs love it and that it can’t touch the ground, ever, or it will rot. We know that it is strong on the outside but weak on the inside and needs a lot of pretreatment before we can use it at all. It is not the flexible friend we thought it was. We also know that failing to build a geodesic dome for two days with lengths of bamboo and string is a terrible idea. Being hit in the head by spring-loaded bamboo is also a terrible idea. Thankfully I have a thick skull and little there to damage so I survived. We have met some very good people and are looking forward to working and playing with them again.
We arrive home late and the van gets stuck up the hill before reaching the house. Our 4×4 is back with Jesus. It’s dark and the back wheels are spinning on the rocks that used to be evenly spread as traction but the rains have now made into sporadic piles of rubble. I get out to survey the situation and encourage another run at it. The wheels spin until there is slow forward motion and then sudden momentum as they catch. The van lurches upward and the tyres fling rocks at great speed towards me. I hear them pass very fast and very close to my head. I won’t be doing that again.
Great news! We are informed of the opening of a pub in San Pancho. The first of its kind. It serves home produced beers on tap. Tap beers are something I miss as its pretty much all bottles here. We arrive with some enthusiasm and are greeted by great people behind a large Parota bar very excited about their first day of business after many months of planning. The craft beers they offer are all IPAs. Now I am not adverse to a hop or two but the trend to make beer taste like perfume, toothpaste, shoe polish and feet is not for me. I am assured that for IPA these beers are great examples but I am clearly not an IPA drinker. Beers that I grew up with from Theakstons have spoilt me maybe. Where are the Leo Sayer ( all day-er ) brews that taste like smooth delicious beer and don’t make you stupid after a neckful of them ? Guinness oh Guinness how I miss you.
It is possible that our mechanic in Chapala is still alive and an outside possibility that the Rug-Rod vehicle we bought a few months ago may be in a state of drivability within a foreseeable amount of time maybe soonish. This is potentially possibly good news. A trip to Chapala is in our future, we suspect, sometime, perhaps.
