La Manzanilla Mexico
My husband and I just returned from a week in La Manzanilla Mexico, a sleepy little village on the Pacific Coast with great beaches, friendly locals, and delicious cuisine. Although this was definitely not our best vacation, and it was far from being the worst, going there was bitter sweet. The initial plan was to join my friend and her husband, and stay at their palapa. Unfortunately, my friend’s husband had to undergo emergency surgery in December, which was followed by complications, and the day we were scheduled to leave, he was still in the hospital. Of course, a day before our departure, my husband came down with the worst cough and cold he had ever had, but he was determined to not let his health further damper our plans. “Are you sure you don’t have the flu?” I asked, thinking this is how epidemics are started. “No, it’s just a cold,” he assured me. I was not convinced. I thought perhaps we were about to embark on our worst vacation ever.
Armed with an arsenal of cough drops, Sudafed, and Kleenex, the next morning, at the ungodly hour of 3:00 a.m., we headed to the airport leaving plenty of time to park the car and catch our 6:00 a.m. flight. For me, the worst part of travel is figuring out how to navigate in a new city, especially when I don’t speak the language well or understand most of what is being said. Although I took four years of Spanish in college, my command of the language is, well, dreadful. In spite of her husband’s poor health, my friend anticipated my trepidation. Her good friend, Julie, met us as soon as we went through customs. She drove us from the Manzanillo airport, gave us a quick tour of La Manzanilla, pointed out the best places to get coffee, delicious meals, and supplies, and deposited us at the front of the palapa.
At this point my husband’s cold hit a crescendo, but he dragged himself down the hill a block so we could eat dinner before he collapsed on the couch. In the morning, in spite of having a runny nose and a cough that sounded like a barking dog, he was feeling good enough to go out and get some coffee and walk through town. And so, our week of tourism began.
Here are the highlights of not the best or worst vacation ever, but definitely a very good one: very comfortable accommodations and a wonderful view of the ocean—especially at sunset, delicious coffee at two great locations, wonderful tacos everywhere, fresh fish, fantastic beaches, warm water with perfect waves, a Friday market, an art walk, very friendly locals who seemed to understand my Spanish or more likely, my pointing, an abundance of colorful shops and houses, and some amazing views of the town.
Now for the good news: The day we got back, my friend’s husband came home from the hospital and he is slowly improving.