Gettin’ Carried Away

Chapala is actually not one of the first places I visited in Mexico. However, as I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I left my camera cord at home, so I want to hold off on posting about some cities until I get my pictures uploaded on my computer. After a few days, I finally remembered that my iPhone takes pretty good photos, so I snapped this amazing shot of Lake Chapala earlier this afternoon.

While there are a lot of Mexican residents in Chapala, the city is also home to many American and Canadian retirees. Some of the B&B’s and hotels are even owned by foreigners. And speaking of hotels, Lake Chapala Inn, which overlooks the beautiful lake pictured above, costs about $45 a night. What. A. Steal.

I have to admit, the cobble-stoned streets of Chapala lose their charm after awhile, once you’ve been driving over the bumps for about 10 minutes or so. Walking is the way to go in this town; you’ll find quaint shops and affordable restaurants, but I think the lake is really the place to be.

In 1956 and 2003, due to a lack of rain, the people of Chapala feared the loss of this gorgeous body of water. Today, it stands about eight meters close to the shore and about 17-20 meters near the two islands out in the middle of the lake. City workers are renovating the beachfront, adding boardwalks and patching up old stonework. All the renovations are expected to be finished by December 2009. They have already come a long way, so I highly recommend visiting Chapala any time you like!

You read it right… Mexicanada. Surprise! I am in Guadalajara, Mexico. As I promised to do some blogging about my trip, I plan to do just that. However, I forgot my camera cord at home (egad!), so I will be telling you some great anecdotes until I am able to post some nice photos (along with Mexican recommendations) from my trip here this week.

You’re probably wondering… what the heck is Mexicanada? It’s a word I made up to describe a particular encounter I’ve had here in Guadalajara. I met a fellow journalist named Rick who is a Canadian national that has been to 39 U.S. states and 61 countries… and counting. Many of his tales are just mind-blowing, but nothing beats the old “parkade” story.

~* Photo courtesy of flyingserpent.net *~

While driving to one of the many destinations we’ve seen here in Guadalajara, a few of us were making conversation about Microsoft Word. Rick explained that he was annoyed with it not recognizing certain words, like parkade, for example. I thought he said “parquet” (as in flooring), and I told him that if you right click the word you can add it to the dictionary. Dorothy, a very inquisitive San Francisco journalist, heard him say “parkade,” called him out right away and asked “What the heck is a parkade?” Rick simply answered, “A place to park cars,” thinking we should know that already. We all started laughing, as we had never heard of that expression before. Our trip leader, Carolina, later admitted she had no idea what he was talking about at first, but didn’t want to say anything.

If you have read one of my older posts from February, you will know that I love languages. I think it’s kind of funny that I’ve come to Mexico, and I’ve learned a Canadian expression. Lesson learned: You never know what you’re going to learn when you are on a trip.

If you’ve been with me since the beginning, you will know that I dedicated my blog to my mom. She has always been my #1 fan, always pushing me to go for the gold, so to speak.

Growing up, I was a pretty good student and a very obedient daughter. My mom was hard on me, but only because she saw potential. Once I produced straight A’s in school, they were expected. “You shouldn’t get anything wrong,” my mom said to me, regarding homework. And she’s right. When you have the time to do something, and to perfect it, it should be done correctly.

My mom also encouraged me to travel. When my parents split, I was pretty sad. After my dad moved to California, all I could think about was going out there to visit him. I wanted to see him, of course, but truthfully, I really just wanted the chance to go to Disney, Universal and Magic Mountain. I wanted to fly on a plane… for the first time.

Knowing I missed my dad, and knowing that I was developing a passion for travel (because moms know everything), she let me embark on a solo journey to Los Angeles at age 15.

Since that Cali trip, I haven’t stopped traveling, mainly thanks to my mom:

• She let me take another solo trip to New York and Washington D.C. when I was just 17.
• She sent me packing to Canada (twice in a year) for a school chorus trip and a church trip.
• She allowed me to drive to Minnesota with my high school friends for Spring Break.
• She let me go to college in NYC and London and take classes in Rome and Paris.
• She didn’t sleep a wink when I traveled through Europe for the first time.

She’s my mom. She is the reason I’m here. She’s the reason I had been to so many places at such a young age.

I love you, Mom! I can’t wait to show you London.