We miss our people, our tribe. Especially now, during in what is low season in central Mexico (although why that is I am baffled), among empty campgrounds, we are missing those we love. With no new overlanders to connect with, our thoughts turn, even more, to friends back home.
Our time in Puerto Vallarta is quickly coming to an end. As ever, I am a bit in awe of just how quickly time can pass us by. Three months. It sounds like such a long time to spend in a city that we have only granted one week stays in the past. Time flys by in a heartbeat. The big question now is … Whats Next?
We love to BBQ. The tantalizing smells aside, who doesn’t love the perfectly cooked steak, shrimp kebobs, or delicious grilled vegetables? For variety, throw on a pizza, flip some burgers, or grill a whole fish. Whatever you are craving, now is the season to get out and get grilling!
It’s the people you miss. The trade-off for a life lived out in the world is that you leave behind those you care about. That twinge of sadness at the idea of missing out on all those celebrations and camping trips and dinners out. Luckily for us, the arrivals started last week.
Time, that most fairydust of qualities, tends to fly or drag; all dependent, upon your inner happiness. I remember with startling vividness the endless, mind-numbing hours spent watching the clock from the inside of my cubicle. Willing those last hours and minutes to go faster. Just as I have tried to slow down time throughout my life; on vacations, amazing nights out, those great moments in time you never wanted to end. What I’ve learned in 120+ days on the road is that time, once the enemy, now a friend, still can fly by in an instant.
We are, of course, always “home”. When you live in a tiny house on wheels, home is, literally, wherever you park it. However, among all of the amazing places we have visited around the world, Puerto Vallarta is our most often visited, and one place we really feel like we are coming home to.
Well, I’m going home, back to the place where I belong
And where your love has always been enough for me
I’m not running from, no, I think you got me all wrong
I don’t regret this life I chose for me
But these places and these faces are getting old
So I’m going home, well I’m going home
Yesterday someone commented on a blog post I did, telling me, in effect, that I was a whiner. I spammed his comment, not even bothering to engage in any sort of dialogue with such nonsense, but it was actually a perfect setup for this post, which I’ve had in mind for sometime. The fact of the matter is, life on the road is just that. LIFE. There are good days and bad days and cranky days and ecstatic days. As we have gone along we have shared so many stories of wonderful times and pictures of magical beaches and exciting adventures. While all we’ve shared is absolutely accurate, there is another side to overlanding…. the other reality.
We had to escape. San Diego was sucking us dry emotionally and financially and with the addition of a rainy weekend forecast, we knew it was head out or lose our minds. The answer: Joshua Tree.
These days our life has become consistent in it’s inconsistency. Our days are mostly spent circling San Diego. We have been here for 12 days. We have spent nights in 7 different locations. Our nomadic lives have taken on an even greater transiency .
At this point we hope the T-rex just eats us already!
The crowing woke me first. Soon after the garbage trucks begam to rumble by, the dogs began to bark, the birds to chirp, and the music to play. Ahhhh, the symphony of Mexico.
