This is a new beginning – I ran another blog for a long time, one that told the story of our two years in San Miguel, getting there, leaving there, getting here. But a new journey started when we arrived in Cuernavaca. Not that *much* has happened since we arrived, but if you look on the right hand side, you’ll see the previous posts, beginning in March, 2015.
We’ve got some new subscribers and to you I bid welcome. Thank you for signing up to follow the journey and thank you for reading the book. From the reviews, people either loved it (five stars) or hated it (one star) and it was split pretty evenly at this writing. There are no two, three or four star reviews. That’s interesting in itself. (Well, there were none yesterday, now there is one. I’m sure it only got three stars there because of Ishtar.) If you didn’t like it – I’m sorry. But my question is, why read it past the first 10 pages if you don’t like it? That’s the part I don’t get. But hey, that’s just me. I won’t even read a book I paid for past 10 pages if I don’t like it. I’ll turn a movie off after 10 minutes if it’s boring, I don’t care if it was a $4.99 download. My time is one of the most valuable things I have. There is one thing that did bug me, I have to admit. Someone criticized me for saying that the Colombia crossing was ‘just east’ from San Antonio TX. Believe me, if you’ve just driven 4,000 miles, that 156 miles is ‘just east’. In any event, fill your boots. It’s interesting to guess who some of you are.
Some comments and reviews have been quite charming. But you love me or hate me. And if you hate me, I hope you aren’t reading this blog, because that would mean you are somewhat crazy. If you hate me, just go away. Like I said, I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and this is mostly me thinking with my fingers. In any event, thank you all for your opinions, good and bad. It means you paid attention at least.
Last post, I was talking about the advantages to moving back to San Miguel. Then, a few things happened. For one, I got my resident visa issued in DF in five days. No questions. In San Miguel, they held my paperwork and passport until I was almost in the country over my six month visa period. I dicked around with them for two months and it cost me over $500 to almost have a heart attack at the end when I couldn’t get my passport back. Holy crap, that was no fun. I don’t think the locals of San Miguel have any respect for the gringos and if they aren’t being paid directly by them (such as maids and gardeners) – they would just as soon metaphorically piss in their beer.
Now, if I were living in Los Frailes, which is technically outside San Miguel, I could shop at the Tuesday market, Mega & Soriana and not go into town. I’d like to go to the Organic market the odd time. The Day of the Dead market and the Christmas market. If I went into town once a month I’d be fine. Charlie has his breakfast club and that’s what he misses. But the other thing that happened last week is that I went to Mexico City again. And came home and talked to Charlie about our choices. And screw it, that’s where we’re going. We’ve been trying to stay on budget and can’t find what we want. But sometimes you just have to say Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot. When will we get this chance again?
There are reasons to go to San Miguel. Friends, the liquidity of the housing market and the possibility of businesses to start (for the gringo market). But is it enough? What would I be happy doing in that town, really? Are there creative opportunities? Even some media outlet labelled it “The Most Gringo Town in all of Mexico” this week. Those are the things that get me running for the hills because they’re true and I somehow block them out. I’ll be happy to go there and live behind a wall in Los Frailes after I’m retired. For now, I’ve got work to do. And I have no intention of retiring for at least 10 years. I think of that golf cart I saw with the Day of the Dead Catrina flags. Please God, no.
I’ve had a couple of quite negative comments about my view of gringos in Mexico. I’ve made a point, often, to say not I’m not speaking of all gringos. The majority, in my experience, yes. But of course not all. I’ve also had some negative feedback about my political comments. I’ve still got a moderate Republican friend or two. But when you start talking about not feeding the poor, because they have the same chances as you and Jeb Bush, sorry folks – you lost me. Or you start talking about carrying automatic weapons around Kroger – you lost me. Or drilling and fracking everywhere, you lost me. A long time ago. But back to today.
That BC business deal so fell apart – and that’s part of what had precipitated thinking about San Miguel again. If there was a house like that one we missed, it would be a great investment. And I can live anywhere we’ve got a gig (which fixing and flipping is, to me). But no, next stop, Mexico City. Thinking we should give up that dream was a minor blip in our thinking. And it had a lot to do with Charlie’s shingles and me possibly living up north for a year to get the business off the ground. Which is now off the table. If we sell the house in the spring (the tenants have an option), we are laughing. If not, we put it on the market anyway. And it will sell eventually. And then it’s all moot and we’re in DF. I like it a lot. And no pissing around in the burbs. Roma, Condesa, Hipodromo or very, very close. I mean, really. Give yourself a shake.
So I leave you with an old Warren song. I can’t believe I have my visa. That’s very exciting. Remember: Canta, no llores.