We settled up today. We are leaving San Blas tomorrow.
We have much more with us than we need, of course, in order to prevent "that most demeaning of American hardships, discomfort." (Ken Kesey's Sometimes A Great Notion).
Chris, the owner of La Quinta, said it looks like we're hoarding supplies for a rough winter. So now that we know we probably don't really need (2) 150' rolls of Reynold's Wrap, cans of assorted soups, dill weed, etc. we are leaving excess goods in the bungalow. The "cleaning lady" (she's not really just a cleaning lady but I don't know what else to call her) Linda, thinks it's like La Loteria when guests leave behind what they can stand to part with, whatever they couldn't consume, whatever they bought and didn't use. If someone can use it, super.
I hope I don't forget my hammock.
We are headed for a town called Boca de Iguanas, less than 100 miles north of Manzanillo, right on the coast. Or if we find a prime place before that, or if we run out of daylight, it could be anywhere between here and there. Stopping in Puerto Vallarta for a dome tent (we hope) and other supplies (balsalmic vinegar?).
Lazlo might be the saddest of all to leave San Blas, and La Quinta in particular. He's been off leash 99% of the time, running free, digging in trash, and cavorting with Rudolph and Rayo. (Rudolph is a Survivor. Kicked distemper and is still kicking. Rayo was the only puppy to survive in his litter, raised by Chris and Rudolph, after his mother died. La Quinta is definitely a place where animals are loved.) We expect a lot of resistence in the beginning, and a lot of pouting after that. Poor Lazlo, leaving doggie paradise in San Blas.