Author: admin

This week, I have been traipsing around up in northern Ontario on a business trip. We’re bringing wireless broadband and next-generation IP applications to the small logging town of Chapleau. It’s a really nice, small community, the people are friendly, and the poutine is probably the best I’ve had in the province.

One thing is also gets is snow, and a heavy weather forced our 15-seat chartered turboprop to land in the small Sudbury airport for the night. We had a nice square meal at a place called Mr. Prime Rib, and headed out the next morning. I apparently fixed Sudbury airport’s Wi-Fi access while Chapleau plowed their runway and the mechanics de-iced our plane with a hand pump sprayer. In Chapleau, we hit the runway so hard we bounced back into the air; the pilot explained he was trying to avoid skidding on the icy surface.

_The following is from my journal from our wedding trip to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico for Friday, Sept. 30th_. We will resume regular scheduled programming shortly:

Last day in the hot, hot sun. Woke up absurdly early with Woofer and V to catch shots of the sunrise. I got a few good shots, and a few more bug bites to add to my collection (Aside: They’re not mosquito bites, and they are extremely itchy). Tried my hand at the air rifle range, and I’ve decided to never make Woofer cross because he’s a bloody crack shot.

For the first time the entire trip, the water was cold and the surf stormed ominously. So we sat by the beach, had our last view of the “Historia Channel” on TV, had a nice square meal and head to the airport.

And Shell and JK, who arrived late and would depart on Saturday, went jewellry shopping at the hotel boutique. Here’s a (paraphrased) exchange between Shell and the shopkeeper over a small silver necklace with Mayan designs on it:

Shop Guy: For you, special price, 900 [pesos].
Shell: I don’t know…that seems a lot. Does it look good on me?
SG: If you buy now, 850!
Me: Too expensive. It’s only sterling silver.
SG: What do you think is a reasonable price then?
Me: 500.
SG: Ha ha ha!
Me: The design is nice, but the metal isn’t worth much.
Shell: I’ll think about it. Thanks anyway.
SG: Wait!! I’ll sell for 550!

Turns out Shell didn’t have any cash on her anyway…
P.S. Attention all travellers, the lounge between the two duty free shops (which sell identical things for identical prices but compete against each other) does not have a PA system. You can miss your flight unless you walk downstairs. I would know.

_The following is from my journal from our wedding trip to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico for Thursday, Sept. 29th_:

With my duties as groom complete, today was a quiet day. Silverlotus and I met with the photographer. Armed with an Apple 17″ iBook, the photog let us pick which photos to print out. So we did. And then Woofer and Aunt F showed up to look at the photos. Then Silverlotus’s parents came by to take a look. Then JK and Michelle showed up…

Basically it took us ninety minutes to look at 60 pictures.

Woofer and Aunt F went on a canopy tour, zipping on foxlines among the tall leafy trees. We floated on the surf, trying to catch a big wave. In the afternoon, it was our turn to be the rubberneckers, as yet another couple walked down the aisle to the gazebo.

The real kicker was learning about the resort gossip. Apparently most of the guests thought we were the prettier couple. So there.

P.S. Playing Billy Idol’s “White Wedding” to Silverlotus doesn’t get me nasty looks anymore.

_And here’s a play-by-play of how the wedding went:_

*2 PM* Arrive back at hotel room. Received irate “Where were you?!” call from Silverlotus. I assure her that the wedding is at 5 and my afternoon is still open and we can still, you know, get married, if she wants.

*3 PM* Called the front desk. I am looking for my dress shirt, which I sent to the rush laundry service two days ago. “Two days is rush in Mexico,” the concierge said.

*4:15 PM* Shirt arrives.

*4:30 PM* Call Shell and Woofer because I can’t get the cuff links into the cuffs of my shirt. We spent many minutes waxing philosophy about how to style my hair.

*5 PM* I’m dressed and heading toward the gazebo where the wedding will take place. Lots of cameras are going off.

*5:10 PM* The afternoon humidity is starting to take its toll. I’m rolling a cube of ice in my hands in an attempt to stay cool. Crowds of rubberneckers start to congregate on the walkways and balconies. Where is the woman??

*5:15 PM* Silverlotus arrives. Yes, she is late for our wedding. All guests abandon me to take pictures.

*5:45 PM* Ceremony was in Spanish and English. Four witnesses to sign official documents. We put in our thumbprints. We are now husband and wife! We imbibe in a bit of congratulatory sparkling wine, and then off to the photo shoots.

*5:50 PM* It starts raining.

*6:20 PM* A little dinner at the Brazilian restaurant, Nayarit. It’s named after the state the Riu is located in. Yes, we are actually a little bit over the border from Jalisco, and so the resort is Riu Jalisco and we still use Central Mountain Time like Vallarta and the rest of Jalisco.

*6:30 PM* They’re making us get up to the buffet to get salad. Including the bride, train and all!

*7:50 PM* All these feral kittens and cats just appeared outside the restaurant window. Half a dozen, maybe more, just staring at us. Apparently they’re strays who live in the resort. This is the first time I’ve seen them. Shell tosses them a bit of chicken, and one brave kitty steals a bit of it.

*8:30PM* Head to Silverlotus’s parent’s suite for a nice jacuzzi bath. Finally I can shed my satin portable oven – I mean, my tuxedo.

*10 PM* We head to the steakhouse for their specialty, the flaming coffee. It’s coffee, chocolate ice cream, and various liqueurs lit on fire.

P.S. Yes, our wedding DJ was called DJ Krusty.

_The following is from my journal from our wedding trip to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico for Wednesday, Sept. 28th_:

And what better to start the final hours of single-dom but to bug out to downtown Puerto Vallarta? Woofer, Shell, JK and I booked a taxi and made our way to the town a dozen kilometres northeast of our resort.

We saw a lot of cars with custom rims. I don’t know why they are so popular. I even saw a vintage VW Beetle with what looked like 21″ dubs.

Another distinctly unique PVR experience: someone asking JK if he “wanted a man”. Vallarta has a big gay population. A monolithic cruise ship came into the harbour today, which meant the vendors would be particularly pushy. Judging from the cat calls “Are you from San Diego?”, “Do you like San Francisco?”, etc., I’m guessing the cruise liner is bringing hundreds of Americanos with their green money.

What we did come for was three things: homegrown premium tequila (fortunately price-controlled), cigarillos, and some Internet access. I had two minutes to check my Gmail and ISP. After nearly a week away from the keyboard, I was surprised I still remembered how to type. 😉

We headed back to the Riu via city bus. As a busker sang “Stand By Me” in the back, I sat in a bakelite molded bench while staring at a giant sticker admonishing me to “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” and a replica stained glass vignette of a bleeding Jesus.

P.S. There is a Hooters directly across the street from City Hall.

_The following is from my journal from our wedding trip to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico for Tuesday, Sept. 27th_:

“Travel is all about expectations,” Aunt F said. She should know – she was the travel agent that arranged the trip. She knows that a good vacation is not about the number of ice cubes in your Brown Cow, it’s about achieving a certain state of mind.

Today, we headed to Punta de Mita by taxi. We were basically going to emulate one of the catamaran tour packages at a fraction of the cost. Even the price of the taxi was haggled down to $10 US a person, roundtrip. (Aside: Never pay full price for anything in Mexico, except liquor). We hired a motorboat to the volcanic islands of Las Mieretas off Banderas Bay. We went snorkeling, but what was truly exceptional was how our captain expertly navigated the small boat around the cliffs and crags, and even through the caves of the rocky islands.

Back on dry land, in a small tavern down the potholed street and an open sewer, we further polished the fine art of haggling with the local merchants. They just walk over to you while you’re drinking, plying textiles and baubles at you. Expect them to at least drop 33% off their starting price.

Punta de Mita as very poor. The roads are badly maintained; the onramp onto the highway was half-submerged in a vacuous pot hole. Water is gathered from the frequent rainstorms and stored in thousand-litre black water tanks that seem to top every household.

_The following is from my journal from our wedding trip to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico for Monday, Sept. 26th_:

Due to Mexican legal statutes, we had to take a mandatory blood test. (I later discovered this is to ensure we in fact did not have syphilis.) It was very painful because no blood would come out and the hotel medic kept digging the needle into my vein like he was digging a foxhole. Finally, he just gave up and made a second incision. Worse still, ther was some weird movie on his television involving Winona Ryder in a redneck family.

Oh, and the blood tests were $180 US and no, it was not included in the wedding package.

Afterwards, we bodysurfed the morning away. And ended up with a tan mark on the inside of my elbow where the bandage sat.