Kate Evans's Blog

Winter California hiking

 

The first half of 2024 has been a mix of housesitting and staying home at our casita. At home, Dave loves to garden, I like to hill hike, we enjoy being close to the beach, and we like our community. So why not stay put? Because we like exploring. And we like living many different lives.

California coyote

In January we housesat in California, in a home I first stepped my size-10 foot in more than 30 years ago. It belonged to Gabriele Rico, my other-mother and mentor, whom I've written about in Call It Wonder. She died a decade ago, and the last time I stood in her house was for her celebration of life. 

Bath with a view in Cupertino.

Her former husband asked Dave and me if we'd come care for the home for five weeks--a book-and-art studded place in the Cupertino hills. All we had to do was feed the koi and haul the garbage cans to the bottom of the driveway once a week. He sweetened the deal by letting us use his car. It's always good to see friends and to nestle into the familiarity of the area (until the reality of traffic and prices hit).

Happy to get some Stacey time.

And some Sally & Kelly time...on the deck of the house.

Much of the home is the way it had been when Gabriele lived there, including her office. She taught me so much about writing, and she helped my creative soul come alive. I pulled off the shelf several books I'd given her over the years, including the first literary magazine that published my poetry. As I sat at her desk, I could feel her energy as I worked on planning for my forthcoming writing retreat. 

Fast-forward a few months to that, back in Mexico:

Revolutionary Writers!

Seventeen revolutionary women gathered in Baja Sur for Angela Yarber's and my Reimagining Writing retreat, where we wrote, beach walked, swam, got massages, rode horses, did yoga, ate incredible food, played music, experienced the eclipse and a sound bath--and most importantly, created a community of writers we will never forget. This retreat had been in the making for a year--and it surpassed my dreams in quality, heart, and intensity. Afterward, I slept three 10-hour nights!

Dave, Miles & Jude 

At home, we got some magical hang-out time with our friends Jude, Melissa, and their son Miles who visited Todos Santos. We enjoyed our regular lives of cooking, reading, and yoga--and I borrowed my friends' dogs for walks. 

walking with Sierra

walking with Deva

Whenever we're gone I especially miss Zumba. The Todos Santos class makes me feel like a teenager dancing in the chorus of the spring musical. The whole thing is so positive and uplifting.

I'm in the back in pink, flashing a peace sign.

Even though I love to  move my body, I discovered my cholesterol had soared. So I cut off the half-and-half that had slipped back into my mornings and finally and happily quit alcohol for good (that one's been coming on for 9 years). I also began eating oatmeal with flax and fruit every morning, dates for dessert, and cut back on portions. In just over two months, my cholesterol dropped 100 points! Eating this way makes me feel great, so that's my motivation now.

Another housesit opportunity came along: two weeks at a big house with a pool and jacuzzi and darling dog named Ollie, an hour south of us in Cabo. 

It was nice to have our own pool and jacuzzi for a couple of weeks.

The owner said we could have a friend come stay. So we got to celebrate Dave's birthday with one of his best friends, Craig.

Dave and Craig in Cabo.

with Craig in San Jose del Cabo for a taco feast

Also, lucky us, one of my BFFs Nancy, with her husband Andy, happened to be in Cabo for the weekend--and they took us to a local soccer (futbol) game. The stands were packed and when Los Cabos United won, the celebration began with people drumming and singing and dancing. I loved seeing this side of Mexico.

Futbol in our new jerseys!

The Cabo homeowner asked us if we could come back in June for a few days. I was tempted since I'd fallen head-over-paws in love with Ollie, who followed me around like he loved me just as much.

Ollie  with me, the jacuzzi, and the mermaid.

But I wanted to suck up every moment at home until we leave in early July (more on that in a moment). So here's a first: she's bringing him to me for a few days in June. I can't wait to take him on my hikes and beach walks.

I'm realizing there are lots of DOGS in this entry. I casually said to Dave the other day that I might be ready soon to get our own dog. He looked at me cross-eyed, trying to register that I said this on the eve of our leaving to travel for 8 months. Would I really want to leave my own dog for that long, even if it was with loving sitters like us?

Hm...okay, maybe I was jumping the pistola. Who knows how I'll feel when we return after traveling to:

England

Wales

Portugal 

Paris

Spain

Cape Verde

Brazil

Argentina

Peru

Colombia

and ?

Our itinerary isn't completely set, but we know this will involve housesits, rentals, visiting friends, flights, trains, a rental car, and at least one boat.

A nice couple with, yes, a dog, will be in our home during that time. Why won't that be us? Because over a decade ago we decided we wanted to see the world. And we're not done yet.

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PS: I've been talking about nomadding and housesitting on podcasts lately. Check these out:

Our private pool for a month.

Three months on the mainland of Mexico without paying for a single night of lodging? That's the world of housesitting! As I write about in Wanderland: Living the Traveling Life, we've been doing this for a decade, and we get sits through various websites and referrals.

Our first stop was Mazatlan for a month, starting in mid-August. This was an unusual housesit: a five-unit complex. The owners rent out spaces during high season (fall/winter/spring)--and in the summer, they want someone there to keep an eye on the place. We stayed in a two-bedroom apartment, our responsibilities to pay the pool cleaner (with the owners' cash) and check the units for leaks after a downpour. 

Yes, it was hot and humid, reminding me of Southeast Asia. That pool was a godsend, and since we were the only ones there, swim time was clothing-optional.

Walking along the malecon.

The location at Olas Altas ("High Waves") was amazing. We were close to the malecon, the biggest water-front esplanade in all of Mexico at 13 miles long. Many mornings I'd walk down the malecon with other walkers, joggers, inline skaters, and bicyclists. 

Zumba in Mazatlan!

After a mile walk, passing fishermen offering fresh catches and beaches with morning swimmers, I'd meet up with a large group of Mexican women and two super-entertaining male teachers for a Zumba class. While we danced, waves offered a cooling spray. Afterward, I'd try to overcome my shyness by speaking in Spanish. The last thing I've ever been accused of is being shy, but being in another culture and trying to speak another language changes my personality.

Mariachis on the night streets.

We were also close to Mazatlan's Old Town, a picturesque compendium of 19-century buildings, plazas, and restaurants--and a huge mercado where we bought fresh produce. If we didn't feel like walking back, we'd hail a pulmonia, taxis that are cute souped-up golf carts. Strangely, "pulmonia" means pneumonia, drawn from the idea that riding in an open-air vehicle can give you a cold. Odd PR--but super fun!

Sunset on the malecon.

We got this gig through Eden, who lived nomadically for many years but has now happily settled in Mazatlan with her husband. She introduced us to her friends Carol and Alex, who are from the Bay Area, close to where Dave and I used to live. They became our new BFFs. We had a blast wandering around with them, going out to eat, playing cards, and watching sunset on the malecon that bustled with families late into the night. Dave and Carol met up for yoga a few times a week as well. 

With Carol & Alex

Next stop was Guanajuato, a beautiful mountain colonial town. It's the capital city of the state of Guanajuato in Central Mexico. Formerly a mining town, its streets are narrow and winding and it has underground tunnels you can drive through. At 6500-foot elevation, it was much cooler there...which also meant gasping for breath while walking the steep streets. 

With Nat & Jodie in the mining hills.

Fortunately, a small funicular could haul us back up the mountain, since we were staying at the very top, in a darling apartment near the Pipila monument, with a vast view of the colorful city. Nat and Jodie, housesitters par excellence, hooked us up with the gig and showed us around the city, including their favorite taco cart. They were full-time nomads for years but now are settled down in their favorite place in Mexico. 

Our view

I fell in love with wandering around the city on foot, stumbling across musicians and dancers in the streets, people-watching in the shady parks, and stopping into cafes and bookstores. While there are people everywhere of all ages, Guanajuato is a university town, so there's also lots of young energy. 

Guanajuato

It's famous for having a collection of disinterred mummies. But we skipped that "entertainment" and instead were drawn to the house where Diego Rivera and his twin brother (who died at age two) were born. It's now a museum with a labyrinth of exhibits, a collection of his works and preliminary sketches. I was entranced by this photo:

Diego & Frida

I easily could have stayed there longer, but next we were headed 50 miles east to San Miguel de Allende for six weeks. I know a lot of people who fell in love-at-first-sight with this UNESCO world heritage site, famous for its grand, colonial architecture and arts scene. Spoiler: While I enjoyed our time there, I wasn't as drawn to it as Mazatlan and Guanajuato, mainly because the cobblestone streets and narrow sidewalks are difficult to walk on and don't allow for as much lively outdoor public space. However, there's no question it's beautiful.

Our roomies for a week.

Our first sit was a week in a sprawling home with all the amenities. It was outside of downtown, but the homeowners--who were easy to befriend--let us use their car. We took care of two darling dogs, which meant only feeding and loving on them because they had a dog walker. There was also a housecleaner, a woman I enjoyed talking with in Spanish. 

Indigenous parade

Just a sample of the proliferation of Dia de Los Muertos fun.

Our next sit, for five weeks, had its ups and downs. Even though this one also included a car, we didn't have to drive much because we could walk everywhere: restaurants, shops, and El Jardin (the main tree-lined plaza). I could even stroll to Zumba at a nearby park. The gorgeous house was constructed of stone and was oddly cold. At least 10 degrees colder than outside. We wished we'd brought warmer clothes. When I was frozen to the bone, I'd hop in the hot tub, so I can't complain too loudly.

He loved Dave but not strangers.

The dogs, while adorable, were having some issues; they could be aggressive with each other and strangers. Fortunately, the homeowner hired a dog trainer to work with them. Still, handling their needs meant San Miguel was feeling less like vacation than our other sits.

so colorful

We were lucky to be there during the colorful Dia de Los Muertos festivities. In fact, September through October was a time of multiple festivals, with all kinds of events, parades, and our least favorite part, ear-splitting fireworks before dawn.

Nomads...and a few peeps I know from other lives!

Fiesta with housesitters.


We met a lot people from all over the world and were invited to a party one night for live music, belly dancers, and the most beautiful, haunting flamenco singer and dancer. We also had a few meet-ups with travelers and friends old and new.

Flamenco dancer 

There are lots of fancy restaurants in SMA, but our favorite food was at this taco stand.

One day we walked down a long street lined with stands selling a profuse array of flowers and shiny objects to place on headstones. It led to a huge public cemetery, like a ghost city in miniature, where people honored their ancestors by cleaning and decorating their graves. Music played and a full Catholic service was in action, with a priest offering communion. I felt like there we experienced the true meaning of Dia de los Muertos.

My favorite outing was La Gruta spa, about 30 minutes outside town, for some thermal springs rejuvenation. We next went to nearby Atotonilco, part of a World Heritage site, a religious complex built in the 18th century. The interior of the sanctuary features murals, sculptures, inscriptions, and oil paintings in Mexican folk baroque and indigenous styles. I hadn't seen anything like it since I was in Italy--and later I discovered it's been called the "Sistine Chapel of Mexico."

La Gruta

"Mexican Sistine Chapel"

In the pueblo we stopped for phenomenal tacos made by two sisters. A couple sitting near us, who have lived in the area for years, confirmed that we'd stumbled onto the best street tacos in the whole area.

que rico!

My other favorite thing was this: When I posted on a San Miguel de Allende Facebook page asking about Zumba classes, I got an offer to join a class at a private home. Of course, I jumped on that! Turns out that Vail and her mom started having the teacher come to them during the pandemic and never stopped. 

Zumba at Vail's

Vail has lived in Mexico for 30 years and is married to a Mexican man. She's also writing a book. So we made an exchange: Spanish lessons for an edit of her manuscript. Now that I'm home, we're meeting once a week on Zoom. She also threw in a food and history tour for Dave and me, since she runs the company. We enjoyed tasting food in five different spots and learning about the history of the city.

I'm grateful that housesitting makes it possible for us to live in so many places, trying out so many lives.

I write this from an upstairs loft in a home in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. This is our last stop on a three-city visit to the mainland. We wanted to get to know Mexico better by spending a month in Mazatlan, a week in Guanajuato, and six weeks here. Housesitting has made this type of adventure possible.

In my next blog, I will write about my impressions. But first I'll back up and share how, before we flew to the mainland, we did a "staycation" sit in Baja at Los Barriles, a community on the Sea of Cortez, 90 minutes from our house at Cerritos.

Ready to go!

These three cuties are Sunny, Happy & Colorado. Each morning they'd jump into the fat-tired golf cart for a 5-minute ride to the beach. The water was so calm and warm, I'd also often a swim.

The mermaid doing a ballet leg in the Sea of Cortez

We also cared for Roberto, the tortoise, who lived in the bedroom closet and would wander out each day. I'd take him outside for a big plate of fresh fruits and veggies. And that's not all: there were three outdoor cats to care for (and feed raw food, a gross process that involved pulling apart and deboning by hand a bunch of butcher trimmings and entrails. Thank god Dave dealt with it because the process made me gag). 

Roberto

We normally don't take sits that involve so many pets, but being that this was close to home and in a great location for two weeks, we decided to jump in. We're glad we did because the beachy community was fun to explore in any of the three offroad vehicles.

A few weeks later, we flew to California for another housesit for two weeks so we could attend my sister Crystal's wedding. Housesitting came to the rescue again as we had a beautiful home to stay in that whole time, up the street from our friends Shannon and Tony in Solana Beach.

This rascal ate one of my shoes.

One of the dogs was barely a year old--cute as a bug and just about as pesky. We took a lot of walks through the hilly neighborhood and down to the beach. 

The homeowners let us use their car, which came in handy when I needed to drive south about 30 minutes for the wedding rehearsal. As the officiant, my attendance was crucial. The wedding the next day was perfection. I couldn't have been happier for my sister--and to welcome Kristian into our family. We all took a ferry from downtown San Diego to Cornado for vows on the beach followed by two days of parties. 

Crystal & Kristian with their four kids.

A few days later, Dave headed back to Baja while I embarked on a self-made book tour--which he coined the Goddess Tour, since it featured a coven of remarkable women. I'd planned stops to visit friends all along the way, using flight credits that were about to expire.

The first event filled Shannon's north county San Diego home with energized people and an elaborate display of food, including cookies the color of the book's cover! After I spoke and read a few pages, one person asked: "How did you talk your husband into living a traveling life?" Truth is, I didn't have to convince him of anything. Our nomadic desires bloomed simultaneously. Pure luck, because when we first met, we were both working long hours. I couldn't have imagined the life we live now.

with Shannon and turquoise cookies

Next stop was San Jose, California, where I expected to pick up my box of books from Mark's house to take to Santa Cruz for my public reading. But...no box. The following day I had resigned myself to a book-less event when I received a call from Mark that the box had arrived. San Jose is at least 45 minutes away, and often longer when dealing with perilous Highway 17--so I thanked him but said he didn't need to come. However, minutes before we were to start, my savior walked through the door. 

Extra special delivery!

Another sweet moment involving that door was when four shiny people I'd met at a transformative retreat in Baja surprised me with their appearance. Can you tell how happy we are to be reunited?

Alex, Mike, Lisa, me & Julia--all aglow

Gratefully, we had a full house at the downtown public library for "Three Memoirs & Music." I'd put out a call on a memoir writers' online group, and Dena Moes & Andrea Ross--who also have connections to Santa Cruz--jumped in. As did my friend Sweeney's fantastic musical duo, Winterlark. 

The happy memoirists

My short time in the Bay Area included spending time with friends old and new--the former being this beloved crew:

Memorable times with my beloved Stacey, Kelly & Terry and their son.

--and the latter being Carla King who is also a traveling writer. Unlike me, though, she is mechanically inclined, as made clear in her wonderful motorcycle adventures memoir. She also teaches people how to self-publish.

The two traveling memoirists in Santa Cruz

An aside: I was introduced to Carla by my longtime amiga Cathy Miller. We recently co-authored a piece about working together on our books. Check it out here:

Cathy was indispensable in my writing of Wanderland

Next I flew to Tuscon, where Dana Killion--whom I'd connected with in the aforementioned online memoirist's group--had generously invited me (a stranger!) to stay a few days. She also recently released a memoir and hosted a book event in her gorgeous home, along with Taymar Pixleysmith, whom I'd met earlier in the year at the Todos Santos Writers Workshop.

with Dana and Taymar

Tucson apparently is some kind of vortex that attracts amazing women because my friend Kate Stern happened to be in town as well. One day to escape the heat, Taymar took us on a divine mountain hike.

Rose Lake in the Santa Catalina Mountains

Soon I arrived in Ashland, Oregon, where I was thrilled to hang out with my amiga Laurie in her new home and the town she loves. It was a joy-filled time, packed with theater and friends and wine-tasting and a weekend camping trip! Not to mention a book gathering at her house, and a talk-and-signing at downtown Bloomsbury Books. 

Talking about our wacky traveling life.

Magically, Barbara Kent--a longtime friend of my parents who makes an appearance in Wanderland--materialized in the bookstore! I was grateful she drove all the way up from Northern California, because as I say in the book, I love being around people who knew my parents.

With Barbara Kent

With Laurie & Tammy seeing the phenomenal Kinky Boots

Christening myself in the breath-taking (literally)
Rogue River on the camping trip 

For my last stop, I flew south to L.A. to spend a few days with my longtime friend Nancy, who pops up on many pages in Wanderland. I was glad that my L.A. book event never panned out because at this point in the whirlwind, my body wanted to slow down. We did a lot of hanging out and talking, our specialty. One day we went to the movies, hopping on the Barbie bandwagon (a fitting culmination of my Goddess Tour). 

Gort was in on the Barbie trend, too.

Another day had to be devoted to art, of course, since that's Nancy's love language. With her friend the playwright Jiggs Burgess and the novelist Janet Fitch (whom I'd met at the Todos Santos Writers Workshop), we lingered over multitudinous art at The Hammer and imbibed the quirky art collection at a private home & garden. 

Love me some artists & writers

By the way, if you have not yet read Janet's Russian Revolution "Marina" novels, do so immediately! We must have been talking about writing during our post-art lunch because our waiter asked us about our books. Oh, to stumble across a voracious appreciative reader. What a treat. Later he sent me this picture he took:

A reader's/my toes

I love that some men have been getting into the delightful Wanderland -toes-pics...which I have been receiving from readers. My publisher created this fun collage:

Many of these readers were traveling at the time!


When I finally landed back in Baja after a month, it felt delicious to see Dave. We'd never spent that much time apart. 
Writing this, I'm struck by the fortune of my life. Of course like everyone I've had my share of loss and pain--but at this moment I feel like those struggles are eclipsed by collaboration, friendship, and love. 
* *  *
PS: If you enjoyed Wanderland, I'll give you heart emojis for life if you'll review it on Amazon, B&N, and/or Goodreads. Reviews can be short & dulce :), such as these:
"This book will blast you off your recliner." "Wildly moving and poignant." "So well written. The details are delicious."

PSS: If you'd like a loving, supportive boost for your own creative life, come to Mexico in April 2024 for my co-hosted retreat: Re-Imagining Writing. There are only 3 single rooms remaining, and prices go up January 1, so save your space here. Consider coming with a friend to stay in a huge, luxurious 1100 SF apartment-room--and to share this inspiring, rejuvenating respite.

Beach front Prana del Mar,
where the retreat magic will happen!

This month marks 10 years of the traveling life for Dave and me. Ten years since I signed my retirement papers at San Jose State University and we left Santa Cruz to live without a house for a year, just to see what would happen. 

We had no idea we were joining a movement of people who were embracing versions of the itinerant life. From retired full-time travelers to digital nomads to those deemed "location independent" to world-schoolers who take their kids along. 

Housesit = Petsit

We also hadn't yet discovered housesitting (click here). Or the little casita we'd end up buying in Baja. We hadn't known I'd have two major health crises that both would require surgery--and that instead of scaring us into stasis they'd fire us up to keep traveling. 

We hadn't known we'd befriend people all over the world. Or that we'd encounter wild animals on land and sea. We didn't know that we'd travel more as wanderers than strict planners, taking advantage of opportunities that floated our way.

I'd hoped but hadn't known for sure that my literary life would expand--that I'd teach writing workshops in Thailand and California, that I'd publish articles and four books, that we'd move to China where I'd teach Creative Writing at Guangxi University.

I'd suspected I'd write about this but didn't know in what way. First came Call It Wonder: An Odyssey of Love, Sex, Spirit, and Travel and then  Wanderland: Living the Traveling Life. Its birthday is TODAY! 

Wanderland is about housesitting and nomadic life and reflections on home, and it comes out at an interesting time--just as I've been thinking of Baja less as "home base" and more as "home."

We recently became Mexican residents, complete with driver's licenses and Baja plates on Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, our blue Subaru that has carried us along thousands of miles whenever we weren't in a plane, bus, boat, taxi, Uber, or tuk-tuk.

This doesn't mean we won't continue to housesit, explore, wander. I still love the feel of flying, of being unrooted. At the same time, we're intertwined with our community here, and I adore this area and our casita. I'm glad it's small because, as I write about in both books, living light has always appealed to me. 

Ten years has taught me a lot--especially that the world is mostly an inviting place, and that I'm more flexible and adaptable than I ever believed. 

When we left California ten years ago, I couldn't have imagined this life. Back then I had more of a feeling than a vision. A feeling of leaning into expansiveness. And while this life isn't perfect, it fits us well. 

You can order Wanderland: Living the Traveling Life from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, my publisher, or through any bookstore. See my other books at my website. 

 

Lareida Buckley and I met three years ago on the Big Island of Hawaii when I was housesitting for her neighbor. 

On a stroll with several ofher woman friends, Lareida mentioned she was curious about my work as a writerand editor. I asked her if she, too, wrote—and when she said yes, her friendsturned to her in surprise saying, “You do?” 

Lareida explained that for yearsshe’d been working on a story collection based on her small-town Texasupbringing. Her father had been the sheriff and her family lived next door tothe jail. “I want to finish it. I’m not getting any younger,” she’d said in hersoft Texas twang. 

Later, she sent me some pages, and I immediately knew hervoice had to be out in the world. Filled with passion for a project I believedin, I supported her in finishing and submitting the manuscript—and now StoriesFrom the Sherriff’s Daughter, has come out TCU Press, making Lareida a debut author at age 76. 

I decided to interview her to share her story with the world.

 

How long were you working on your stories, and whydidn’t your walking group friends know?

I always wrote stories, ever since college. About twenty yearsago I wrote more seriously and put these stories together as a collection whileparticipating in a very informal writing group, just for fun. I toyed withmaking it into a novel, tried making the voice reflect the narrator’s age, andother false starts. Life intervened, and I set the project aside for years. Thoughwhen I met you I’d finished what I thought was a pretty good rewrite, I hadn’tshared the stories with anyone except a few close friends in many years. When Igot the book deal, friends and family alike were amazed. Me too.  

 

These stories are autobiographical in that yougrew up the daughter of a sheriff in small-town Texas and lived in a houseattached to the jail. Why did you decide to write this as fiction rather thanmemoir?

When I started these stories, I’d been gone from Texas formany years. It had been a long time since my father had passed away, so I feltI couldn’t write a memoir at that distance, both in time and place, and do itjustice. Also, taking situations and people that I remembered, making them fictionaland more interesting, was way more fun. I could add excitement or humor wherethere might have been none. I could try to bring my childhood to life. Creativitywas the draw for fiction.

 

In the book, the narrator, Dolly, starts out as anine-year-old girl and we see her grow up living next to the jail. How do youthink Dolly’s life would have been different if her mother had had her way andmoved the family away from the jail permanently?

Her life would have been dramatically different. Though peoplecoming to the door with terrible calamities and tragedies became normal to her,and me, it still affected us all to one extent or another, making us into morecompassionate and caring people. Had she moved out, as her mother wished andeven tried to accomplish during those early years, Dolly would have missed outon contact with people of all races and all walks of life, as well as theappreciation of how hard life can be.

 

The book has a wide array of colorful characters.How were you able to write about so many different people richly andauthentically?

To say there were colorful characters around the jail is anunderstatement. I could often describe on the page the characters exactly asthey were in real life, could have them act exactly as they did. Real peopleliving real life adversity—and the people who tried to help them—made forauthentically colorful characters I could portray honestly.

 

You do a beautiful job in the book of dealing withboth humor and tragedy. Was it your intent to grapple with both? If so, why wasthat important to you?

Actually, the tragedy was more obvious, and it stood out moreclearly in my memory, making it easy to write. Humor is how I’ve dealt withdifficulties in my own life. It was simply a part growing up and came naturallyin my writing. I especially used the grandmother to add humor throughout thestories.

 

Was your real-life grandmother funny?

Some of herjokes and snarky comments were really my own or others, but I enjoyed the personashe took on as the stories progressed. I imagined she would have, too. 

 

I was moved by the loving relationship Dolly haswith her parents. How are they similar to or different from your own parents?

That relationship was easy to write about because it wasabsolutely real. Busy and absorbed with law enforcement as they were, they werewonderful and loving parents in the midst of all that.

 

Why did your father want to be sheriff? And is ittrue, as in the book, that your mother later became sheriff herself?

I’m not sure if he wanted to be sheriff. He was a kindheartedman, involved in community activities and helping people through variousorganizations, like the church, and the Masonic Lodge long before he becamesheriff.  Perhaps he saw it as a way ofmaking that work a true vocation. He’d been a dairy farmer, and the dairybusiness was changing with pasteurization, milking machines, and othermodernizations that might have been beyond his means. His visits back to thedairy farm on a regular basis, and how important those visits were, always mademe wonder why he’d moved on to law enforcement. I tried to show that dichotomyin the stories. And he was never the stereotypical gun-toting authoritarianSouthern sheriff you might picture. He was a quiet man who in his years assheriff never fired his gun. My mother took the job because she didn’t knowwhat else to do when my father died, but she was never the typical sheriffeither. Her gun was never fired either.

 

Was it true that the boys you dated were moreentranced by your dad the sheriff than by you?

Some definitely were! It’s absolutely true that years afterrelationships were over, several old boyfriends would keep coming by to seehim, ride around with him on patrol, even when I was away at school. It becamea family joke.

 

As a white Southerner, how did you address racialissues in this book?  Did you find thisdifficult, and if so, how and why?

We must have been a liberal family for that time, though Idon’t think I thought about it then. It was all I knew. But I say in the book, andI felt it to be true in our years in the jail, that race didn’t determinecharacter, and there were good and bad people, black and white. Also, we hadmuch more contact with black people than most families ever did during thosesegregated years. Not only with black prisoners, but with their families,lawyers, teachers and preachers. I tried in the book to show that racism wasdefinitely there, but not as much in evidence in our family or around the jail.It seems unbelievable, but I remember there being two water fountains in thecourthouse basement, one labeled for whites and one labeled for coloreds. In mylifetime! With that sort of thing surrounding my formative years, I worriedthat I might not be able to treat those issues with the respect the people ofthat era deserved, so I tried to take care with it. I can only hope that Ididn’t offend anyone.

 

How was it that you were able to finally finishthe book after all these years? What was it like getting the manuscript readyto send out?

I have a lifelong friend who took my stories more seriouslythan I did. She encouraged me, bullied me, made me finish them. I’ve read thatwriting is really revision, and these stories were revised so many times, Ithink making them better in the end. The fact that I’d just done a massiverewrite with my friend’s encouragement right before I met you was serendipity,and then your edit was the final powerful push. I was finally, to the extent anauthor ever is, satisfied with the work, and was preparing for a long processof submissions and maybe even self-publishing.

 

What would you like people to know about gettingyour first book published in your seventies?

Over the years, I kind of thought of myself as a writer, eventhough in my real life I had a country mail route along the ocean in Hawaii. Ieven had business cards made once. Lareida Buckley, Writer. Actually, Readerwould have been more accurate. I listened to literally thousands of books overmy 25 years on the mail route. My sage advice, from the vantage point of 76years, is don’t give up on a dream. I’m a prime example. I’m Lareida Buckley,Writer. It really is never too late.

I'm practically in a tizzy over the beauty of my book cover!
Wanderland is coming June 1. 
One of the themes of my new book is the Web of Connection we've woven as we've traveled around the world. 
We meet other travelers. And those who are rooted. We connect with friends old and new. I hadn't realized when we started living this itinerant life how many *people* would enliven our path.
We belong to a number of online traveling groups, and it's strangely wonderful to meet up in real life. For instance, two couples (Amber & Greg and Diana & Mike) happened to be in the Bay Area on our most recent visit. Our robust, chatty, online relationships easily transferred to physical presence.
with Amber & Greg, who were Bay Area housesitting
after a Christmas in Amsterdam 

Mike and Diana write about their traveling lifestyle here. 
We met another traveling couple during our Oahu housesit. Brooke is also a writer whose books I'd read. Turns out they were living a block from where we were staying! They showed us some of their favorite spots, and we talked about one of the best nomadic topics: how living in unconventional ways makes life extra juicy.
Buddy and Brooke were wonderful tour guides.
Kuli'ou'ou Beach Park at sunset...
an example of Dave's wonderful photography

Another online-to-IRL experience came when we met up with Yvonne and Michael, a nomadic couple stopping off in Oahu on their way to S.E. Asia. 
With Michael & Yvonne at the Outrigger Reef Waikiki Resort
Our Hawaii housesit came about through Nadia, a woman we met in Baja years ago. We reconnected with her and her family in Thailand--and then after she moved to Hawaii, she asked us to housesit. Talk about a web.
loved our housesit view
Also nearby on Oahu lives a high school friend I hadn't seen in nearly 40 years. We had a sweet time with Cheryl and Gene, eating meals together, going on a stunning hike, and spending a day on their boat.
Hike to the top of the pali
Kayaking, Cheryl & I gossiped about our high school days.

Captains Gene & Dave
My signature synchronized swimming move at Kaneohe San Bar

Another longtime friend, Candis, also lives on the island. One night we had dinner made with fresh produce from her garden, follow by a jam session with two mandolins, a guitar, my uke, and a stand-up bass.
Jamming
Turned out that Sarah and Jimmy, whom we'd met in Panama while they were also housesitting, were coming through Oahu! We hiked the Makapu'u Lighthouse trail and spent relaxing time at Waimanalo Beach. It was a little surreal seeing them after having just hung out in the Panamanian jungle. 
Fun with Sarah at Alan Davis beach

Jimmy

Byodo-In Temple


On our swing back through the (brrr...cold!) Bay Area enroute to Baja, we luckily were able to see old friends. 
Brunch with Kelly and Daisy Hiking with Roger and Marilen


Ah, it felt great to be back in Baja. But I didn't get to slow down for long because I'd enrolled in the Todos Santos Writers Workshop, expressly to work with Janet Fitch, whose writing I deeply admire. (My god, if you haven't read her latest two books about the Russian revolution, do so now!) Keeping with the web-of-connection theme, my good friend Stacey knows Janet and told me what a great teacher she is--which proved to be true.

Janet Fitch and husband, the writer Andrew Nicholls

Here's what working with Janet did to my manuscript that I thought was finished:

And Janet is the one who came up with Wanderland as my title. When such a great writer who has been an Oprah pick and has sold millions of book makes such a suggestion, I listen!
And the webby theme continues: My friend Lisa, whom I hadn't seen in about thirty years, happened to attend the workshop as well. Being with her, the prism of years made me feel thirty and sixty. It was as though our hearts had been connected all this time.
On Cerritos Beach with Lisa and Andrew


Funny that I'm publishing a new book that explores the question, "What is home?" at the very time I'm starting to feel like Baja is home. We finally completed the process of becoming residents--which means we don't have to leave every 180 days. Even our blue Subaru, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, now has Baja plates.
residence card
Not that we won't be continuing to travel and weave our web. But there's something about being here this time that feels...settling. In a good way. As though nine years in, my heart knows that no matter where I go, our Mexico nest awaits.

San Pedrito Beach, Baja California Sur, Mexico

In 2022: 

We did 11 housesits in 3 countries (including 3 U.S. states). 

Along the way we took care of:

15 dogs

3 cats

and 1 guinea pig

I finished writing my book about our itinerant life (title still in flux) and am hoping 2023 gifts me a publisher! In the meantime, you can read an excerpt that appeared in HuffPost. The piece makes clear that our lifestyle isn't all champagne and roses.

You can also watch this interview with Dave and me about housesitting all over the world. 

Also, a piece I wrote about housesitting in Mexico appeared in House Sitting Magazine. 

landing in Baja

We had one flight cancellation...our first in nearly a decade of nomadic living. Our flight out of Panama was cancelled. After a debacle of waiting for hours for our luggage and organizing all the passengers, American Airlines redeemed itself by putting us up in an all-inclusive resort for the night, including food and fancy rooms. They put us up in a crappy room the next night in Miami, but they paid so we couldn't complain (much). 

It felt amazing to return to Baja and to our home. We hadn't lived in it for two years, so we had a lot of projects facing us, but we took them poco a poco. The area has exploded with construction so there's definitely more people and noise--and we lost our slice-of-ocean view. 

Day of the Dead in Todos Santos

But we still have a nice view of the hills and there are also more restaurants and activities. We saw a great outdoor production of A Midsummer Night's Dream, went to a music festival, attended the consecration of a Buddhist stupa and enjoyed a fantastic Day of the Dead celebration. We were happy to reconnect with our community and had a wonderful visit from our friend Nicole.

With Nicole on our rooftop

In the meantime I turned the epic age of 60. Especially after facing two major health crises in my fifties, I was grateful to be alive. But I kept seeing ads and articles for getting rid of wrinkles, for getting thin after menopause--voices that insist that "60 is the new 18!" or whatever. 

And I thought NO. Just NO. 

I'm grateful to be 60. Too much of my life has been taken up with thinking that my body should be different than it is. So I decided that at age 60, I'm letting go of body shame and the toxic diet culture mindset (often wrapped in a pretty bow of "wellness") run by those who cash in on making us feel badly about ourselves and keep us on the "never good enough" treadmill. 

Pema Chodron says that constantly focusing on improving is a violence to the self.

Besides, aging isn't a disease or a problem. It's a privilege.

This leads me to my mantra for my sixties: NO RULES! I want to live improvisationally, allowing whatever is in front of me to inspire me to act rather than deciding in advance what I should/shouldn't do. 

I'm inviting in joy, relaxation, nature, naps, ambiguity, softening, reading, music, peace, creativity, humor, true connection with others, surrender and being here now. 

Speaking of reading, I read 65 books in 2022 (see my reviews here) and am constantly grateful for those who tell their stories.

Shannon, Anne, Laurie, Nancy & me

To celebrate my new decade, four amazing women joined me in Cabo for a week at a wellness retreat center. I know each one from a different part of my life; together we created a colorful mosaic of friendship. I ended our time together floating on a cloud of love.

Walking on Cerritos Beach with Deva, our neighbor's dog.

I think my sixties are going to be cool. Is it a cliche that I started playing Pickleball and went to my first Zumba class? I'm not sure if I'll continue on with either one regularly. No rules, remember? I'll decide each day, sometimes each moment, how I want to spend my living time.

Me with Mom, 60 years ago

The actual day of my birthday in November we spent with my sister and some friends at her new, gorgeous house in Todos Santos. The food (especially my sister's homemade carrot cake) and company were great, as was the music jam: three guitars and my uke.

Hawaii housesit view from the lanai.

We left Mexico after two months to housesit in Hawaii. So we will be ringing in the new year in aloha spirit. But after this we are headed back to Baja to settle in for a while. 

Happy New Year to all. Here's a Tibetan Buddhist Blessing that I send to everyone:

May you be filled with loving kindness. 

May you be well. 

May you be peaceful and at ease. 

May you be happy. 

Villa Palma Boutique Hotel
No other trip in our time as nomads has taken us to such highs and lows as Panama. 
We began the journey in Panama City, staying in a darling hotel in Casco Viejo, the old quarter built in 1673 after the original city was burnt to the ground. The Governor had it set on fire when he got word pirates were coming to attack and loot it. That's one way to spite your enemies.
Casco Viejo
We visited the remains of the original city, now a World Heritage Site, with Carlos, our guide. He was the first of many amazing people we'd meet in Panama, a highlight of our time there. 
Carlos & me
Originally from Venezuela, Carlos is a single dad to two teens boys. I was amazed by his resourcefulness. During the pandemic his tour guide business tanked so he started cooking and selling food to neighbors. He did some legal consulting work, and he recently became a day stock trader. He pulls together all of this employment to support his family and so that his kids can go to a private school and play club-level soccer.
Screw Tower
His knowledge of the city was mind-boggling. When we drove around, he pointed out the wacky design of one high rise called Screw Tower, which he joked houses lawyers. We also saw the financial district, toured the high-end Jewish area that housed descendants of many who escaped the horrors of Europe, and crossed the Bridge of the Americas for lunch on the peninsula. Later, at the Panama Canal, we watched the technological marvel of a ship coming through the locks.  
the canal
Carlos pointed to a statue depicting Panamanian students who pulled down an American flag and put up a Panamanian flag in protest of the occupation. One was shot and killed, and that sparked deeper sentiment to oust the U.S. military. It took another forty years, but the U.S. finally ceded its massive landholds that had excluded Panamanians, including high-end properties and even the first McDonald's that allowed only U.S. citizens.
Lots of murals everywhere
I asked Carlos how the U.S. could have done better, and he said investing in the Panamanian economy and integrating into its society over their 80 years in the country. I hadn't realized that part of the U.S. military agreement to exit included dismantling the Panamanian military. So everyone we saw in a uniform was some version of police, not military...even those guarding the President who lived down the street from our hotel. In return, the U.S. agreed to have Panama's back in any conflict. Let's hope that is lived up to if, god forbid, it is ever needed. 
Panama City skyline from Casco Viejo

I love meeting world citizens and learning about their lives...and soon had another opportunity. At a restaurant eating breakfast, we chatted with the only other guests, two women with an adorable toddler. 
The mother is a 32-year-old German who has lived most of her life in the U.S. In her early twenties she worked as a cocktail waitress to save up money to travel the world for four months before entering medical school. Now she was a traveling M.D. who went all over the world to practice. Two years earlier, she got medically inseminated and became pregnant on her first try. 
The other young woman was her au pair from South Africa. She does MMA (mixed martial arts), bakes wedding cakes, models part time, draws animation, has exquisite tats, and has volunteered as a teacher for street kids. She loves traveling so this was the perfect job for her.


about to land at Bocas del Toro

Soon it was time to head to our first housesit, so we boarded a small plane that took us on the one-hour flight to Bocas del Toro, an island archipelago on the Caribbean. While we waited for our luggage at the tiny airport, a local guy played the guitar and sang "Don't Worry, Be Happy" and other island-inspired songs.
The homeowner, Carmen, gave us the biggest heart-hug I've even gotten from someone I'd met only by text. We followed her through the dusty streets of Colon, the central of nine main islands that make up Bocas del Toro. Most of the islands are car-free. I liked the feeling that I was plopped down into a completely new world, where people speaking a melodic Patois sold fried chicken and empanadas and meandered around on bikes and by foot. 
You can see the house we stayed in nearly hidden in the palms.
Carmen, who is Dutch, led us to a dock, where we boarded a boat for the 15-minute ride to Bastimentos Island, our home for the next month, caring for two loveable dogs, Stormy and Thunder.
Stormy on the dock
Carmen and Marcel's place is a BnB with several rooms and their own open-air home with a big kitchen where Carmen whipped up delicious food. Her culinary skills were the highlight of the five-star TripAdvisor reviews I'd read. Usually we secure sits through a website, but in this case I'd posted about us on a Facebook page featuring Bocas del Toro housesits...and a few days later a Carmen had contacted me.
exploring Colon


Renting power-assist bikes made for a fun day.

We'd been excited about the idea of living on an island--and indeed, the place had warm turquoise waters, palms trees, the works. However, challenges immediately became apparent. That night we found it hard to sleep in the humid heat with no A/C or a circulating fan, unsupportable in this off-grid place run on solar. While I worried about my ability to adapt, I tried to focus on the adventure of it all. Sitting in their home overlooking the dock and watching a spectacular sunset, my inner kid got a little giddy at the notion of living in the Swiss Family Robinson treehouse with a dock where we could jump in the kayak and go snorkeling at nearby reefs.
Unreal colors
I admired Carmen and Marcel's ability to relax into island life as lived by the locals. They were around our age but totally adapted to things that were a steep learning curve for us, such as walking the dogs on narrow, steep and often slippery pathways; handling all the house systems and their backups; and making meals from limited available foods. We also soon learn we'd have to try to sleep with late-night night party music blasting from the other side of the island. 
Swiss Family Robinson-esque
In our few days together, the hosts generously fed us, showed us all the important details (such as propping up a flag at the end of the dock to signal a water taxi to come get us) and took us out to dinner one night on Colon with ten of their good friends. There we met the owners of the Floating Bar, and another couple who picked us up every Monday in their boat to take us there for live music.
Laura, the Floating Bar owner, jumping into the Caribbean Sea.
What a cool scene, to be dancing with a crew of Panamanians, expats and travelers then, hot and sweaty, jumping into the sea. I also attended a few morning yoga sessions at the Floating Bar.
Floating Bar band

Because Bocas del Toro was a happening tourist spot, there were many kinds of restaurants on Colon, including a delicious Chinese place run by Chinese immigrants, as were the grocery stores. Hearing them speak Mandarin flooded me with memories of our time in Nanning, and I greeted the cashiers with a smiling nihao. 
We also found several places that served delectable whole fried fish. However, prices weren't what I'd call low...and getting to these places required paying a water taxi $5 per person each way.
Through our online groups, we discovered another nomadic couple from the U.S. housesitting the next island over. We ended up spending some wonderful days with Sarah and Jimmy, going out on boats to explore Red Frog Beach and the remote Zapatilla Islands, the definition of paradise with pure white sand and swimmable turquoise waters.
On one of our adventures.


On the way to Zapatilla, a glimpse of which is in the distance.
Sloth! 

We loved the Bocas boating life, the people we met, our time in the water, the creatures we saw. We agreed we would return if we had a place where we could retreat from the elements. The off-grid rain forest island life was sublime yet physically demanding and could be mitigated with a sealed, cool room to retreat and rest.
For our next sit we headed to Playa Morrillo, on the Pacific side of the country, taking a four-hour bus ride from Panama City to Santiago and were picked up by Gisela, the Swiss homeowner--and once again I was struck by how cool it is to meet a virtual stranger whose life we'd be living.

kale and lettuce, freshly picked

She took us grocery shopping in the city, encouraging us to stock up because we'd be spending six weeks at their home in Punta Duarte, nearly two hours away on mostly bumpy dirt roads, and food acquisition would be limited with two small grocery stores and a produce stand. There were a few restaurants, mostly small local places called fondas, which served meat or fish, rice, beans and plantains. We also met a guy who cut greens directly out of his garden to sell. What a character. He toured us around his property and chatted for so long that a trip to get veggies took nearly two hours.
View from patio off living room.
The house was a stunner. It had a huge kitchen and living room with plate glass windows that overlooked the yard and pool--and, thank god, fans and AC. In fact, our hosts insisted we run the AC in the main house and the three casitas for several hours most days to keep the mold away. 
Most days we hiked to the beach with the dogs and trudged back up steep and slippery terrain, stripping off our clothes and diving in the pool. Cheers to no visible neighbors! The gardener who came every week didn't touch the pool or mow, so pool and lawn maintenance were left up to Dave. Similar to the Bocas couple, this couple was about our age and hearty as hell. In spite of the AC, living there and taking care of our tasks was like pounding out hours at the gym every day.

Loved this daily beach walk with the dogs.

Dave and I talked about how every time we do a housesit there's an adjustment to the pets, neighborhood, house, location--which can be fun and stimulating, but also demanding. Both of our housesits in Panama turned out to require significant adjustments and more work and discomfort than we'd been prepared for due to their off-grid natures in humid environments. Living off-grid in Central America is peaceful yet it's not for wimps. 
In the thick atmosphere and howler monkeys eerily baying in the trees, it felt like being on another planet. At times I'd be walking alone through the jungle then emerge at a secluded beach and feel like I was the only person left in the world.
One of the many creature sightings.
Twice a week Dave got up at 6:30 a.m. to pick up the house cleaner and then return her a few hours later, a 45-minute ride down rutted roads each way. The homeowners left the money for her pay and gas, and we appreciated having a clean home. Also, she was a lovely woman, and I liked speaking Spanish to her because she'd correct me when I said things wrong. 

howler monkey

But the first day Dave got in the car to pick her up, it wouldn't start. The truth about living in the rain forest: the climate breaks things. Fortunately, we were able to borrow a car from Roger, the neighbor who, with his pack of dogs, was often the only other one at the beach. While we were grateful to have a vehicle, this was his beater car, an SUV with mold-eaten interior. It was like sitting inside rotting walnut.
jungle walk
Once we were driving with Beto, the gardener, in a downpour and the windshield wipers stopped, blinding us to the road. Beto told us to stop at a road crew construction site where he spoke rapidly in Spanish to a guy who dismounted from a tractor. It took him five minutes to fix our wipers, and he wouldn't take the money we offered. Later when we passed another road crew, I asked Beto if those guys were also his friends. He laughed and said, yes, they all were!
Parrots hung out near the house.
And then guess what happened? We caught Covid. Ironic that we'd contract it in one of the most isolated places we'd ever been. Must have happened at the tiny grocery store with dusty shelves. While we miserably nestled in bed, the dogs had to walk themselves (owner-approved) and returned looking like mud mummies. Had I mentioned it was the rainy season?
With Roger, may he rest in peace.
Fortunately, a week later we were back to our chores, sweaty walks, and heavenly pool swims. But then the unthinkable happened. We went to return Roger's car, only to discover he'd died the day before after having had back surgery in Panama City. Stunned, we thought about how life can change dramatically in one breath. 
I thought about all the people we'd met in Panama, and all across the globe on our journeys. Even though he left this plane, Roger would always be part of our web of connection.


***
Have a look at the video interview we did with Travel Live Learn:
House sitting in retirement – 9 years of freedom! - YouTube

*** 

PS: Books make great holiday gifts!

Call it Wonder: An Odyssey of Love, Sex, Spirit & Travel (award-winning memoir)

For the May Queen (coming of age in the dorms in 1980, with lots of sex, drugs & rock n roll)

Complementary Colors (what happens when a straight woman falls in love with a lesbian)

Revolutionary Kiss, co-authored with Mary Janelle Melvin under the name Mary Kate Summers (love story set during the French Revolution)

Dave and Chloe on the San Antonio malecon

Our home base is in Baja Sur, but there's so much of the huge country of Mexico that we haven't seen. So when an opportunity came up to do a six-week housesit near Lake Chapala, the largest lake in Mexico which is surrounded by mountains, we jumped on it. 

Along the San Antonio malecon
the most pastoral of the three.

The Chapala community is primarily made up of three towns on the north shore of the lake: Ajijic, San Antonio Tlyacapan (where we were), and Chapala--each with a town center and a malecon or esplanade along the lakeside. 

Ajijic malecon

Ajijic is a charming pueblo, heavy with expats, covered in murals and dotted with boutiques, galleries, open-air cafes and specialty restaurants. San Antonio Tylacapan is much smaller, with a pastoral malecon and a downtown so tiny it's easy to miss. Chapala is where Mexican families tend to come from Guadalajara a weekend or longer holiday. Its malecon is lively in the afternoons and evenings, with vendors and big, touristy seafood restaurants playing live music.

One wall in Ajijic...

...and another.

A two-lane road winds through, connecting these communities. One main road means traffic, especially since the area has experienced a growth boom. Fortunately, there's also a bike path. 

vegan tamales & cacao drinks in Ajijic

non-vegan tacos

Green drink for me, fresh OJ for Dave in Chapala.

The growth is due mainly to retired expats, primarily from the U.S. and Canada, coming to a place where prices for real estate and health care are much more affordable. The good weather (it's usually in the 70s) is a draw as well. Food, however, seemed to us to not be as low cost, unless you bought street tacos and shopped at fruterias. That may be because a lot of the restaurants and grocery stores are geared to the expats and Mexican tourists. This means, too, there are many places to eat delicious meals.

Vegan burgers in Ajijic

We flew into Guadalajara, and the hosts picked us up and drove us an hour south to their home, a lovely place with a pool and a view. We didn't make much use of the pool, however, because it never got hot enough to be appealing--and eventually because of all of the rain, the gardener was having a hard time keeping it clean. 

The lake is picturesque but unfortunately too polluted to swim in.

We were there during rainy season, a time of year many said is their favorite because there are fewer people around and less dust. Several times storms woke us in the middle of the night. Once, for at least an hour, the rain dumped like someone had overturned the lake in the sky, during which time there was no space between thunder and lightning. The booming exploded and flashes lit up the bedroom in a continuous, epic melee.

Happily there was a green space where we could walk
Chloe off-leash not far from the house 
All this rain meant we got to see waterfalls in action when we went hiking in the mountains. Nice trails are easily accessible from Ajijic. We also walked with Chloe, the sweet dog in our care, every day. The walks weren't easy, though, since we had to get acclimated to the 5,000-foot elevation and also because the streets out the door were sharply hilly and unevenly cobbled. Those charming but challenging cobbles are a feature everywhere in the area. 

our digs

back yard

Before they left, the homeowners introduced us to their neighbors who were heading out in a few weeks and who, in turn, introduced us to their housesitters, Cathie and Brian, a couple from the U.S. who were traveling throughout Mexico with their dog.

Sunset from Cathie & Brian's pad

I received a message from a friend in Baja who told me that her housesitters scheduled to arrive in a couple of months, Dodo and Sven from Germany, were currently in Ajijic. So we six housesitters met up a couple of times and shared stories about our wanderlust. 

roaming housesitters unite!

We'd heard that about an hour away furniture is manufactured in the town of Ocotlon. The beachy budget furniture in our casita, which we bought more than eight years ago and has endured dozens of renters, was in sad shape. Baja, being nearly an island, can be a hard place to find such things at decent prices. So one day we headed out to do something we rarely do: shop for non-edible things. 

We stumbled across a Pride celebration in Chapala!

Octotlon was a dreary, gray grid of dilapidated buildings. We spent hours walking through furniture stores that varied from warehouses to elaborate displays. Fortunately we didn't want traditional "rustico"-style Mexican furniture, because we didn't see a single piece. Everything was modern, and a lot of it looked alike. Dizzy, hot and hungry, we straggled into the tenth store and struck gold. In one fell swoop we bought a couch, love seat, coffee table and dining room set. We think it's going to be delivered in November when we get back to Baja, but I'm hoping something wasn't lost in translation...

Cathedral de Guadalajara in Centro


Chicos playing in the fountain in Guadalajara

Another day we took the bus to Guadalajara to meet up with our friend Leah, who now lives there. There was no bus schedule (get used to it, it's Mexico) so we stood in the drizzle at the place we thought it was supposed to arrive, and eventually it did. It was great to see Leah, and in our short time together she toured us around the city she loves. We started in Centro, gaping at the grand colonial buildings and murals. And then we took the bus to the outskirts, through neighborhoods lined with tower trees. We had lunch on the sidewalk of a seafood place that looked unremarkable but the food was incredible.

Back at Chapala, we geared up to leave, doing a big house cleaning and getting our last massage. Did I mention the masseuse came every week at about $20 USD per person? She was a true healer and also a single mom who told me she used to work for a company who took half her earnings. She took a risk and went out on her own--and is now doing very well. I share this because I love hearing people's stories and, better yet, we spoke mostly in Spanish.

I'd gotten pretty attached to Chloe, so it wasn't easy to leave her. I was also verklempt when we said goodbye to Cathie and Brian, but with nomads you never know when you'll collide again in another place. With Dodo and Sven it was "hasta luego" because we will see them when we get to Baja!

But first, we were headed to Panama. Next up: Adventures in Panama City, Bocas del Toro, and Playa Morrillo!

*****************************

PS: Want to stockpile some good fall reads? All my books are price reduced right now...and they are also available as audiobooks:

Call it Wonder: An Odyssey of Love, Sex, Spirit & Travel (award-winning memoir)

For the May Queen (coming of age in the dorms in 1980, with lots of sex, drugs & rock n roll)

Complementary Colors (what happens when a straight woman falls in love with a lesbian)

Revolutionary Kiss, co-authored with Mary Janelle Melvin under the name Mary Kate Summers (love story set during the French Revolution)

It was 2014 the first time we drove from San Diego all the way down Baja to our casita at Cerritos Beach. We've done it many times since, and I've written about it here, here, here, and here.

Santa Rosalia

You'd think with our experience we'd have it down. But this time we couldn't figure out where to get our visas-upon-entry at the Mexicali border. Everything looked different, and indeed it was. We'd zipped by the new building where we were supposed to stop and had to turn around, cross back over the border, and re-enter the country--a painfully slow trek because we couldn't figure out how to get in the fast last using our new SENTRI pass. [Insert tongue-out, googly-eyed emoji here.]

Tacos with Susan and Gilly, whom last saw here.

Fortunately the rest of the trip down was beautiful and seamless. Usually we pass right through the small town of Santa Rosalia, but at the last minute we discovered our friends Susan and Gilly were there! For years we'd talked about meeting up in Santa Rosalia, since they own property there, but the stars didn't align until now. 

Until they toured us around, I hadn't realized what a charming town it is. The architecture is French style because the French operated copper mines here until the 1950s.

Gilly & Susan on their property.

We also saw their seaside property next to the small college where Gilly is involved in building a marine biology research center. He's a squid researcher and she's a John Steinbeck scholar, the perfect Cannery Row match.

A few days later, pulling into our neighborhood near Cerritos Beach after nearly two years away gave me the tingles. Ahhh...that desert air mingling with the sea. But we were only spending three nights there--and not even in our casita so as to not disturb the longterm renter. Instead, we stayed in a palapa (thatched roof) studio with outdoor kitchen, organized our stuff in our bodega (big garge) and headed out to find food.

With Art at Good Vibes

Lucky us, our friend Art had recently opened a Caribbean-food restaurant called Good Vibes within walking distance, where we feasted on super delish dishes. They have jerk chicken but also offer jerk cauliflower, which was divine.

Squeezed in a beach walk

We had time to meet up with friends and family in Todos Santos and got over to my sister Ann's property, where she and Gary are building a new house. It will be magically completed by the time we return.

With nephews Beau & Brock, Ann & Gary, and Paul

It was strange after only three days to board a plane. Part of me yearned to stay, to burrow into our house and community, while the other part was excited about what was up next: housesitting in the area of Lake Chapala. Stay tuned for that!

PS: Want to stockpile some good fall reads? All my books are price reduced right now...and they are also available as audiobooks:

Call it Wonder: An Odyssey of Love, Sex, Spirit & Travel (award-winning memoir)

For the May Queen (coming of age in the dorms in 1980, with lots of sex, drugs & rock n roll)

Complementary Colors (what happens when a straight woman falls in love with a lesbian)

Revolutionary Kiss, co-authored with Mary Janelle Melvin under the name Mary Kate Summers (love story set during the French Revolution)