Got Gas?

La Cocina, 2006. Not all that much has changed in 6 years.

The symptoms first made their appearance within 48 hours of the big Popeye's Chicken Tenders feed. I went to turn on the gas range, but it wouldn't light. I went around to the back of the house where the gas cylinders reside and checked both tanks. One was definitely empty but the other had plenty of gas.

After I turned the selector switch of  the regulator back and forth a couple of times, I was able to light the stove. But it didn't last.

Later that day, the Gas Express guy sold me a full cylinder. I thought it was good to go.

They rarely look this good.

More like this, but not as nice

Estufa muerta.
Next morning, I got no response from either cylinder. I realized with a wrench that mi estufa se ha muerta. That wouldn't have been so bad in the short run, but I had two braided challah breads rising and needing to be baked before very long.

A call for help.
I called Global Gas from my phone and they said that they'd send some technicians out. Meanwhile, I made a couple of spaces in our chest freezer and put the slowly rising challahs into icy sleep.

Nipples, hosiery, and a bivalve regulator.
I got in the Windstar and drove to Pátzcuaro. There were several errands to do, but my main destination was Vidrioelétrica, Pátzcuaro's largest and most fully stocked ferretería. It wasn't too busy, and I quickly got what I'd come for: a new "bivalve" regulator of the mini type, and two flexible, reinforced hoses with easy to turn knobs. The modern kind, which doesn't require a wrench. Goodbye to stubborn copper tubing that breaks all too easily.

Snazzy American version of the same thing

A fast course in assembly.
Back home at the Rancho, I returned to the ailing old regulator and quickly gave myself an intensive refresher course in how to assemble this rig. It's actually quite easy when you know how. So of course, it took me a while. I had it all connected and working well in an hour or so, after several trips back and forth to the porch. The oven lit.

I removed the semi frozen breads from the freezer and let them come back to life on a table out on the porch. The day was pleasantly warm and the breads responsive.

The bread was almost ready to go into the now heated oven, when the Global Gas techs showed up. The looked over my work at the new regulator, disconnected everything, rewrapped it more securely with Teflon tape, but were unable to reconnect the main gas hose. The screws were stripped. I was told that the entire hose should be replaced, but there was no way I was going back into Pátzcuaro that day.

They suggested taking the working hose from the separate hot water boiler in the front, and it would serve to let the baking and cooking continue. But of course, we would then have no hot water from the boiler.

I told them to do so, as I needed to bake those two loaves that had undergone so much waiting. There was no charge for their services, but I gave them a propina para unos refrescos.

The oven quickly recovered its heat and the loaves went in. I took advantage of the gas supply to make lunch: rice, sautéed fish filets, etc.

The bread came out acceptably good.

archive photo

After lunch, I put a big kettle of water on to heat up for dishwashing.

Suddenly, I was exhausted. I lay down for a siesta, and when I arose an hour or so later, I decided to try the old hose on the hot water boiler. I was able to make a tenuous connection, one of dubious safety, yet enough for us to shower. Afterwards, I turned off the cylinder as there was a distinct smell of gas hanging about the porch.

I hope to conclude this project today by buying and connecting a new, replacement hose. Then all will be right in our little corner of the world.

Back at Vidrioeléctrica the next day
The store was even less busy than the day before. At the counter I asked the salesgirl for a gas connector hose. She rejoined with, "How long do you need?"
 I told her that 3 meters should do the job.
"¿Económica o reforzado?"
" Reforzado."
She brought out a pre-measured length of Coflex Conector Flexible para Gas. VG-B300. It is shiny and beautiful. It was fabricated in Monterrey. This is their website. Coflex.

The Gold Standard in Gas Connectors*

Look over the packaging. It has illustrations of the parts, with the names in Spanish, so that you can learn the difference between trenzado, manguera, férula y tuerca.

Back home again, I could hardly wait to connect it. In fact, it took all of two minutes. Once again, we have gas for cooking, washing dishes and bathing.

* Except that Coflex also makes a stainless steel reinforced flexible connector. Ours is vinyl reinforced.

Kuar Tukuni

We are big fans of hot springs. The more natural their setting, the better we enjoy them. The aguas termales of the Balneario Kuar Tukuni more than meet our needs. Too bad that it's so far from Pátzcuaro.

Our energetic and ever enthusiastic, bird specialist friend Georgia Conti had discovered this place and organized our excursion. We were nine in number, including amigas from Georgia's neighbors of her village.

The trip from Pátzcuaro takes about an hour or more. The correct exit from the autopista is marked by a sign for Ario de Rosales and El Tejaban. There, a graveled road winds eastward for about 3 miles until reaching a turnoff to the left, which descends to the balneario parking area. There are  a large swimming pool (cool, I think) picnic tables and changing rooms close to the parking area.

Upper pool

Picnic area

From there, a paving stone pathway descends to a stream which is crossed on a suspension bridge. I call it, "The Bridge on the River Kuaar".

The Bridge

The paths lead through phantasmagoric woods, with cascades and dense trees, the spookiest of which are the ghostly "saurian" trees.

Hold tight to your Mommy's hand!

Kuar Tukuni (or "Tukuri", speliing seems to vary from sign to sign.) is a simply outfitted, rustic balneario. There are no flashy water slides and other child frenzy magnets. What it does have are three, circular thermal water pools, about 3-4 feet deep and 15 feet in diameter. Two are filled with very hot water and the third with lukewarm. I didn't take any photos of the hot water pools nor of the picnic palapas. Fortunately, Georgia had some photos from an earlier visit, which she generously sent to me.

Lower hot pools. Photo: GC

Additionally, there's a large, apparently cool water swimming pool near the upper parking area. Another, with somewhat turbid water, is below at the end of the lower thermal pools clearing. There are several palapas  lined concrete benches, and simple cooking facilities, a rough table, and most important, the roof that shades you from the intense sun of la Tierra Caliente.

Lower cool pool. Photo courtesy of GC

This pool was the hottest, at a measured 111º F. Photo by GC

We didn't see this "natural" pool on our visit. Photo: GC

Costs: Adultos $30, niños, $20

Hours: I don't recall: about 9 a.m. to 6 p,m., I guess.

Pools are drained and cleaned Tuesdays and Thursdays Fridays, (Georgia wrote me to correct the days of cleaning).
Restaurant available on the grounds on weekends and holidays only. Pescado sarandeado a specialty.
We didn't try the restaurant, as we were headed to La Mesa de Blanca, some 35 minutes drive north. in Ziracuaretiro.

I recommend Kuar Tukuni for a pleasant day out if hot spring pools in a rustic setting appeals to you.

Georgia Conti deserves great thanks for organizing this outing. If you are interested in birding in México, she can take you to the best spots. You can see more on her blog, Pátzcuaro Birder.

A License To Kill For

Get one if you can!

On our return from the United States a few weeks ago, we were dismayed to discover that through an oversight, our Michoacán drivers' licenses had expired. We promptly sought advice from our usual reliable sources: SFC (US Army, Ret.) Ric Hoffman and Ms Jennifer Rose.

Our first, simple task was to to the Centro de Salud in the outskirts of Pátzcuaro to obtain a certificate of good health. That wasn't very difficult. After a short wait, a nurse briefly interviewed us, took our waist measurements, blood pressure and weight. We passed the exam, and on paying a modest fee at the cashier's window, we were issued our Certificates of Health.

You may wonder why I failed to mention the vision test. Because there was none.

No vision test! Thanks.

Following our guided plan, we then went to the Pátzcuaro Tránsito office near the Mercado Tariacuri in the former Lo Tengo building. There we were told that we didn't need to be there, because they didn't administer drivers' tests, but if we wanted to take one, we could have it in Morelia. I said that I would prefer not to, and the official asked me "¿No le gusta Morelia?" I said I liked it fine, but not to go for a test.

He then told us that we should go to La Administracíon de La Renta, known as La Renta for brevity. It is where the licenses are finalized, or at least, used to be.

That is the building in Pátzcuaro next to IMSS with several long lines of people outside and a security guard at the door. I went up the guard to ask about las licencias para manejar. He told me that we'd have to go to Morelia to get them. He didn't know where, exactly. A kind lady in the line told us that  there was a módulo at the Terminal de Autobuses Morelia; maybe also at Plaza Capuchinas. But, with expired licenses, it didn't seem prudent to run the possible gauntlet of keen eyed tránsitos with powerful thirsts for refrescos.

Of course, we could take a bus to the Terminal de Autobuses Morelia, but we'd also heard that there were waiting lines up to 5 hours, due to the issuing of placas at the same time. There was an alternative office on Avenida Lázaro Cárdenas in Morelia, close to the Cristalería Corona, a restaurant equipment house with which I'm familiar. But the report was a year old, and the official had been recalcitrant to issue the license until Ms Rose persuaded her otherwise.

Late news arrived from friends who live near Quiroga that it was a piece of cake to get your license there. All you had to do was give up your birthright birth certificate. But on further explanation we came to realize that it was a certified copy of a birth certificate, the original, of course, being held in the vaults of ones' natal city. Our new interpretation is that the birth certificates are for first time applicants. Maybe.

Our friend Ron related that when he renewed his license in Pátzcuaro last year, when they were still doing it, he was required to get an official Spanish translation of his birth certificate. Where? In Morelia. At least the service was free, and only required two trips to our state capital city.

Next to Quiroga on Monday with our friends, the Fergusons. It was miraculously too good to be true that we got a parking spot at the front door of the administration building, on a narrow back street in Quiroga Centro, across from the Hotel Tarasco II. (Read the address in the header, if you can. There's your vision test.)

Once inside, we were crestfallen to learn that the agency was fresh out of fichas and that we would have to try in Morelia. We returned to the Ferguson's house, regrouped, snacked and called an information number, 070, which didn't work. Later we found out that it works only from a landline phone.

Richard offered to drive us to Morelia, which we gratefully accepted. It's a beautiful drive, until east of Capula, where we entered the ugly outskirts of Morelia. It got even uglier when we were blocked by a police barrier on Avenida Camelinas before reaching the Governor's Palace, forcing us to detour through interminably slow traffic until we could emerge again.

During the detour, we were making calls on our cell phone and basically being rebuffed at almost every attempt to find out where licences might be obtained. One exceptional person gave us hope that we could perhaps get the licenses at the Plaza Capuchinas módulo. That was encouraging, as I knew the area fairly well.

Richard double parked his vehicle at Plaza Capuchinas while I went into the Colonial edifice to check. It was a spacious patio with reasonably well sorted lines waiting for various services. But again, I was told that no fichas were available hasta mañana, so I retreated.

After the debacle. we soothed ourselves with a nice lunch at LangoStiko's on Av. Santamaría. We returned to Quiroga,again squirming past traffic jams, the worst of which that we encountered on Calzada La Huerta after passing through Av. Universidad.

Tuesday was a rest day.

On Wednesday, we dared to drive back to Morelia in our van. After an short visit to INM on unrelated migratory matters, we headed for the Centro de Convenciones módulo. Unfortunately, we didn't get into the lateral in time, so we missed the turn from Camelinas onto Ventura Puente.

Instead, we headed back to the módulo at the Administracíon building, on the south eastern corner of Plaza Capuchinas, on Calle Ortega y Montañez, Centro. We arrived at a few minutes before 10 a.m. I ran inside and at the Informacíon booth found out that ¡Sí, hay licencias!

Again, through some miracle, I located a parking spot just outside the door. Just too good to be true.

We parked to the right of the handicapped slot

Once inside, we settled into the correct line to obtain our numbered fichas. After some waiting, we approached the desk (outside the building but under the portales) and after the señorita inspected our documents, we were given our numbered tickets.

"They also serve who only stand and wait." And wait.

Hours crept past as the sun reached its zenith, then slowly slid toward its shady siesta. But we were fortunate in finding seating. Without that, and shade, water, and antojitos, we might not have survived.

I went out on walks around Plaza Capuchinas while Doña Cuevas held the position inside. I found a place called "El Sope Caribeño", east side of Plaza Capuchinas, owned and operated by a Mexican-American couple, where I bought inexpensive but tasty antojitos para llevar.

Back inside, the drama intensified when the snail paced but steadily moving lines were further refined into "Placas y Trámites" on one side and "Licencias" on the other.

Slowly, slowly, the lines reduced as the numbers called went up.

At about 1:50, our numbers, 68 and 69 were called. I was nearly bursting with need for a bathroom, but I gritted my teeth and held on.

We were almost home free and had reached the penultimate window where passports, comprobante de domicilio, but  our not migratory documents were again reviewed. We were interviewed again, then digitally fingerprinted of both hands' index fingers. We passed to the cashier's window across the room. We chose licenses with 10 years' duration. By the time they expire, we may not be living or may be incapable of driving, but: we will never have to renew them again!

NEVER! NEVER! NEVER!*

We then crossed back to the photo booth and showed our PAGADO receipts. Another digital scan fingerprint and we were photographed. Almost all the staff were pleasant and of good humor. We were feeling better, too.

After my photo, I took advantage of a pause and found the baños: to the back of the patio, a right down the hallway, down a few steps and outside, and there were the baños. Then I felt even better.

The whole thing took about 4 hours. In hindsight, we should have gone there first and postponed Migracíon for another day.

Afterwards, we were exhausted but happy. We met friends and celebrated with a great meal at Restaurante Parrilla y Canilla , up in Sta. María de Guido.

* There is the possible, that if we change our migratory status from FM3 to FM2, we would have to give up our vehicle import permit and obtain Michoacán placas.

Por favor, señor; la fila para placas está a la derecha.

A Little Summer's Rain

Along the road to home, July 23, 2011

We enjoyed a lovely, sunny, summer day yesterday. As is normal, dark clouds gathered at evening, promising a little rain.

Storm clouds over mountains

What a surprise. About 6:30 p.m. the rain began. It quickly grew into a wind driven storm. Water forced its way under our living room window onto the tiled floor. That was nothing new. But soon, the wind went crazy, blasting water into our covered porch, then under the double front doors and into the hallway. That was joined by water driven into the garage (we almost always leave the garage door open).

(By the way, it might have been a strong storm, but not one third of the ferocity of  the one we experienced last year in Tonalá.)

Then came the hail. We had had hail before, but never as plentiful as this. Our yards looked like una Blanca Navidad.

July in Michoacán

Peach trees on a summers' evening

Back yard scene

The hallway was well flooded to a depth of an inch or so as the storm abated. Water ran into the bathroom from the hall. I opened the convenient bathroom floor drain so it could escape.

The usual procedure in these deluges is to deploy a number of old but thick bath towels along the floor to soak up the excess. This time it was also necessary to bring in the wringer mop bucket and extra heavy duty mop (we have three mops, each one for a special task) and mop the floors. That was fine, as these areas were in need of a mopping.

Then I got down the table fan from its storage shelf and strategically placed it where it could help further dry the hallway floor. I left it on for 4 hours. There are still patches of damp.

Meanwhile, the soggy drenched soaker towels went outside until such time as they could be laundered and dried.

Toward the end, I made hot chocolate as a reward for our labors before snugging down under two blankets and quilt.

I love the Michoacán weather. Tomorrow it could might look like this:

Morning in the mountains

It's still raining intermittently at 3:18 AM.

The Sixth Year

A view of distant mountains

This month of June is the sixth anniversary since we first saw this house out in el campo. We owe thanks to the late Mel O'Hara for bringing us out here. We didn't actually move in until early August, as we had a house sitting stint to finish.

Our Mexican neighbors still ask us, "¿Estan agustos aquí?", even though we have been here 6 years. Our answer is, "Sí".

The house six years ago. 

Doña Cuevas at the present day house

Life out here has its pluses and minuses.

Let me count the bueyes

PLUSES
+ Relatively low rent
+Low maintenance, mostly done by our...
+ Good landlords.
+ Very friendly neighbors
+ Very quiet neighborhood (keeping in mind that this is still Mexico.)
+ Scenic views of cows, horses and occasionally, sheep. Free manure for Doña Cuevas' garden.

Bulls on the loose

+ Huge front yard, big enough for several gardens.
+Came with fruit trees, apple, peach and capulin.
± Huge back yard, but underdeveloped.
+All one level; no steps.
+ "Feels safe". Never had a crime "incident", although our former neighbors once had a burglary.
+ All tiled floors, including the garage. Washer-dryer connection in garage. Did I mention the roll down garage door?
+ Big kitchen, with 9 foot long counter/bar, plus cabinets and regular counters flanking the sink.
+ Decent sized dining/living room.
+ Plenty of windows, all protected by fly screens and decorative iron work.
+ Complete lack of local artisan decor. (This, IMO, is a plus.)

MINUSES
- 20 minute drive to Pátzcuaro. Highly unpredictable combi service.
- Eccentric and unreliable Internet connection. (Although it has improved a lot.)
- Lack of English speaking compatriots. We used to have a few, but they left.
- Paint job needs to be redone.
- Inside walls never have been painted. They just have a (used to be) white base coat.
- Some windows leak water during windy rainstorms. We lay down bath towels to soak up the puddles. Occasional roof leaks, but nothing heavy.

We think that the pluses greatly outweigh the minuses. We'll stay a while longer.

Spring Break in Michoacán

With the advent of Spring like warmth, we at last fulfilled our desire to immerse ourselves in pools of aguas termales. Our top choice for this pleasure are the Grutas de Tolantongo, in the eastern part of the state of Hidalgo, which we visited 5 years ago. However, it's a fairly lengthy trip, so we decided instead to go to the balnearios in the small town of Araró, Michoacán. We first learned of this spot from our friend, Rochelle Cashdan, who lives in Guanajuato.

Araró is situated at the southeastern corner of Lago Cuitzeo, a little northeast of the larger town of Zinapécuaro, Michoacán.


View Larger Map

Although Google Map's directions showed Araró to be about 1 hour 40 minutes from our home, we expected that it would take longer, due to traffic in Morelia and that we stopped a couple of times en route. Not unexpectedly, the autopista tolls were a considerable expense. We didn't keep records, but it was pushing $200 pesos each way. Of course, there are free highways, but they are slower and trafficky.  We took a route that passed by the Morelia Airport, which gave us an chance to look into the Restaurante Titanic, a huge seafood restaurant (featuring "jambalaya" on the menu!), but we were keen on getting to our destination so we didn't eat. A mistake.

Restaurante Titanic

Route finding was easy until we exited the Guadalajara-México autopista at the Zinapécuaro-Acambaro toll plaza. We missed the sharp turnoff and found ourselves heading to Acambaro in the state of Guanajuato.

But, applying Escherian navigation, we looped back in the direction of Zinapécuaro, asked directions, and got back on track to Araró.

Araró seen from La Playa

Araró gives the impression of a town trapped in a time eddy. The autopista forms a southern boundary, a mountain ridge the north, and the shore of Lago Cuitzeo the west side. There appears to be one road only down the hill into the town. Signs point the way to Balneario Huingo and its adjoining neighbor, Los Hervideros, just outside the town center.

We arrived very hungry and unprepared, for the food services at Huingo were closed until the weekend. The little tienda sold us a couple of cans of tuna, some galletas Saladitas, and a mini jar of mayonesa. We had brought Boing! fruit drinks, so we had a small feast.

The men's restroom/changing room is adequate but needed some cleaning. The women's was in better condition.

Main pool at Huingo

There are a number of pools of various dimensions. I was pleased that those featuring kiddy slides and other juvenile attractions were set apart from the main pools.

Kids' stuff

There were well behaved children in the main pools, of course. The whole place was relatively tranquil, until later in the afternoon, the PA system started blaring stirring Spanish marches and bullfight music.

Besides the large, luxuriously warm large pool, there's a smaller, covered rectangular pool designated as "Temazcal". The water temperature is 40º C with a depth of 1.40 meters (4 1/2 feet) was what I needed to sooth old injuries.

After a few hours of soaking and changing pools, we dressed and left. We were shown a shorter way back to the town center. We decided to stay the night, and after seeing the spacious and attractive grounds of Hotel La Playa y Balneario*, in the heart of town, we took a room at the discounted rate of $350 pesos (asking price, $500 pesos). The room was new, very clean although a little under furnished. We didn't avail ourselves of any of the three pools on the property, but I did dip my hand in two and the water was tepid.

*There's another hotel, across the residential street at the back of La Playa, called Hotel Wesfalia. It's a very attractive building, but we didn't look into it. There are also other, older lodgings, such as Posada Jazmin and Hotel Esperanza, on or close to the main street. In Zinapécuaro is Posada Los Colorines, apparently a more deluxe hotel, associated with the Reino de Atzimba water park.

We are accustomed to nighttime noises in Mexican hotels, thus we were not disappointed at La Playa: chiefly amplified music until about 10:00 p.m.; plus regular gongs of the church** bells, a block away. The baaing sheep were hardly noticeable, underscored by a passing freight train in he near distance. I didn't realize until morning that we had our earplugs along.

** The church is very attractive, noted for El Señor de Araró and its fiesta, which, I think we just missed.

In the morning, I tried the promised agua caliente las 24 horas  in the bathroom and it delivered! It was a great shower, one of considerable force and abundant hot water.

Getting something to eat was a challenge. We saw two restaurants and a comedor económico in town, and none were open during our stay. We ended up eating passable tortas at Lonchería Guerrero and its neighbor, across the main street from el mercado de artesanías.

We bought bread and cheese at a tienda, but didn't eat it until we got home on Thursday. We stopped in Morelia for a decent lunch.

We enjoyed our brief visit to Araró, and will go again. Next time, we'll prepare better and bring some snacks.

Something Old, Something New: Hotel Refugio Agustino

Morelia's Centro has many hotels, but there seems to be a sort of magnetic convergence of older and newer ones in and near Av. Galeana, Allende, Aldama and Abasolo.

One of the most recently inaugurated is the Hotel Refugio Agustino, at Calle Aldama # 272, just off Ave. Abasolo.
It's bounded by Málaga, a juice bar, to the east and a Happy Go convenience store to the west. The o.k. Tako Tako Taquería is across the street.

Patio lobby area

Banessa greets you with a smile

The following review is about Suite # 7, which rented for $550 pesos during the Day of the Dead period, normally about $50 pesos less. Standard rooms rent normally for $450 pesos, making this a good value, considering the quality of the furnishings.

The Hotel is a converted charming Spanish Colonial building with seven rooms. It’s very nice with few deficiencies. There are modest but charming Colonial decor touches throughout: wooden beams, brick ceilings, walls of cantera stone, brick arches. All in good taste, without being overwhelming. Our room was a suite consisting of an ample bedroom with a king bed, a very long, well constructed dresser about 3 meters in length, with mirror, better than average lighting and ample wall switches and outlets; a small kitchenette area with a stainless steel sink and drainboard, a microwave oven and a small cupboard; a tiny breakfast table and kitchen stools.

foyer of Suite # 7

There’s no refrigerator nor any drinking vessels or dishes, other than a couple of glasses out by the water dispenser in the hall. You’ll have to bring in your own food, as there’s no food service in the hotel. But there are many food establishments nearby. 

We had ample closets and storage space, although the closets are peculiar in that the hanger rods are at right angles to the norm.

The bed linens are above average in quality and we slept comfortably. There was some ambient noise through the patio doors, but it wasn’t bad, and after all, noise is almost inescapable in Mexican cities.

The bathroom is small but adequate, with a modern flush toilet and lavabo. There were a couple of minor flaws: the vertical stainless steel inlet pipe of the lavabo was not mounted firmly and wobbles a lot when touched. Another, minor detail is that the towel hook swiveled loosely. Not a big problem though. 

The attractive shower, just off from the toilet area, in an unroofed stall. The tiled walls and floor are new and very clean. The hot water took about 1 minute to arrive, but when it did, it was forceful and plentiful. In fact, the shower, along with the comfortable king sized bed are among the highlights of suite #7.

Note that as a retrofit, the bathroom is in a partially unroofed box constructed within the suite. The toilet area is roofed in relation to the rest of the suite, but the shower area is not. There’s also a translucent plastic skylight in the ceiling over the shower and part of the bedroom.

A really nice feature to Suite # 7 is the small, private patio, accessed by attractive wooden sliding doors. There’s a small table and a couple of chairs. It would be a nice place for breakfast or afternoon drinks. (You can also dry your socks and undies out there by draping them over the patio furniture.)

Patio doors looking inward

Bedroom in refection

However, considering the large and uninsulated expanse of the sliding wood and glass doors, I would not want to have this suite in the dead of winter.

The standard rooms are compact but appear adequate. They are arranged for the most part on two levels, a small sitting room below and in at least one, low ceilinged, bedroom loft, up a set of short, broad wooden stairs. 

When I stopped by in August for a quick look at the hotel, the low ceilinged upper level was a little stuffy. I would not choose a room that faced the street, because of the noise. There's at least one other suite on the upper floor, which overlooks the lobby, with a Queen bed. Price is the same. 

The most serious flaw in an otherwise lovely small hotel was the temporary (?) lack of Internet connectivity. Wireless Internet is advertised as being available in the lobby area. However, when I was given the password and I tried to enter it in my mobile device, it wouldn’t connect. After some time, Banessa ("with a B"), the friendly receptionist, told me that the router was broken, in fact, “burned out”. I was lucky to have access to Wifi at our friend Rosa's Casona Rosa, 2 1/2 blocks away, but it was nevertheless an inconvenience, and not available to everyone.

Here are some informal ratings:

Comfort: ****

Service: ****

Price per room: $$$$+ ($= $100 pesos)

Cleanliness: outstanding

Quiet: Our room, in the interior, was fairly quiet.

Contact: 

Tel: (443) 274 9224

Email: refugioagustino@hotmail.com

Website: Click here.
Location:

Calle Aldama # 272, Centro Histórico, Morelia, Michoacán, México

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The Phoney War

Powered by Telcel

Until we moved to Mexico in September, 2005, we were unfamiliar with the workings of cell phones. We had to buy one, as there were no land lines reaching the remote outposts that have bookended our home life here. Only the large house down by the railroad tracks, which we house sat for 4 1/2 months, had a landline phone.

There are many Telcel tiendas in Pátzcuaro, about one on every block in Centro, and on every other corner. What criteria to use in selecting the best shop?
We guys might as well choose by which has the most attractive young women who almost inevitably run these stores.

Not your usual, everyday Telcel salesgirls

Our first phone was an inexpensive Nokia, no camera, no MP3 player, just a phone. It did have a flashlight which seemed to have volition to turn on at unexpected moments. (No photo available.)

The user interface was cryptic, but with exploration, we were able to gain a basic knowledge of the workings.

A second phone was needed when we moved out here to The Sticks. How else could we communicate over distance when one of us was in the house and the other was away?

I purchased a second Nokia. The relatively simple model had been superseded by a somewhat snazzier one. It looked cooler with its central cursor key, but the interface was actually more recondite. But that one suffered a fall, and though he crystal was replaced after an agonizing, 6 weeks wait, after which I eventually took it to a different store for repair, the phone was never the same as before. For one, the screen lost its backlighting. The interface remained inscrutable and prone to rebellion as settings changed on their own, calls were made without my involvement, and overall, it was a Piece of Crap.

A few weeks ago, I decided that I couldn't stand it any longer, so I shopped for a new phone.

I chose a Telcel tienda which I knew would be really good, because A—a, the young woman in charge, is very attractive. Sorry. No photo.

Eventually, with her help, I chose a coolly elegant LG model with a flip cover, a mini window in the cover to see time and date and other activity, a camera, a very nice compact design, and it only cost me $999 pesos. The Nokias had run about $480 back in the day.

I was delighted for the moment. A little later, I discovered a few shortcomings. The charging port is a mini-USB port with a skinny, hard to open cover. We have had to use a jeweler's screwdriver to open it.

The operating instructions are only in Spanish, on a single sheet of paper, unlike the extended, bilingual User Manual that came with the Nokias. (yet inscrutably recondite.)

The LG came with only one, obnoxious rock and roll song ringtone installed, but of course, the user can add more. We'll get to that.

The camera is easy to use, but I still haven't been able to access the files on my computer. We'll get to that.

O.k. Lets get to it. To transfer files between phone and computer requires that the back of the phone be slid off, and a tiny pinkie fingernail sized SD card be slid out. The phone kit comes with a regular sized SD into which you slide the mini SD card. The ensemble slides into your card reader. A volume (disk image) shows up on the Mac's desktop. Inside are some subfolders, some of which seem to relate to what you can view on the phone screen, after clever navigation through the shoals. Others seem to have no relation.

I won't describe the entire, tedious process of creating a ring tone, then dragging it to a folder, ejecting the disk image, reassembling the phone, finding out that it's turned off, restarting, navigating back to the Profiles screen, selecting the correct setting (a significant achievement in itself) and then only to find that the imported ringtone is an "invalid file". But eventually, I got one to work. However, I may have inadvertently deleted it yesterday.

Although I can see the lousy photos on the phone, I can't locate them when the disk image is mounted on the Mac.
However, this is probably an effort not worth pursuing.

I have one last question: if the LG phone has a mini USB port for charging, why the hell can't you do file transfers via the same cable?

Oh; one more question: where do the get the software designers for such user unfriendly interfaces? Dropouts from software designers' school?

I will admit, though, how cool I feel when I flip the cover open and then snap it shut.

What I really want is an iPhone, but the cost of hardware, and especially, the contract plan rates are way out of my budget. I guess that if we gave up eating out in restaurants so often, I could swing it. That prospect is highly unlikely.

Dream on.

The Green, Green Grass of Home*

Our usual summer schedule for lawn cutting is about every two weeks. It's normally done by our landlord's father, Mateo, using a "huiter", ie; a weed eater.


This year we were away a total of six weeks, with only 12 days between visits to the U.S. Although Mateo has access to our yard, he and his wife, Chucha were in San Jose, California even longer than we were.

So it was when we returned from the final segment of travel in New Jersey, we found a Bonanza of Lawn Greene (*That was the original title of this post, but I took pity on my readers.) in our yard. It was nearly waist high out back, as the grass is always greener by the septic tank.

That's a trailer, not a septic tank

After nearly a week back home, I went out and located Sr. Candy, who had occasionally cut our grass when Mateo was away. He took a look at the elephant grass out back and told us that his huiter couldn't handle it. But he knew a couple of muchachos, one of whom had a disc cutter huiter.  We agreed on a price, and the crew showed up here on Saturday morning.

They went at it with two huiters and a rake, as well as a wheelbarrow. They also removed a tangle of chayote vines from the brick wall at the north side of the house. By 10:30, they had it done, other than the walkways that needed sweeping.

Most of the clippings were deposited outside, at the base of our wall along the street, but they workers also hauled off a truckload with which to feed their cattle.

We paid them, shook hands, and watched as the faded off into the morning sun.

And now, for your further entertainment, here's our title song, as sung by Marty Robbins (I tried to get Merle Haggard, but EMI Publishing had restrictions on it.) Click here to hear Merle sing it, on YouTube. The best one, so far, IMO.



For those who prefer, here's a much younger Joan Baez singing of the GGoH.