Wednesday, October 29, 2008

So Hot, You Could Fry an Egg

What's the temperature here? Oh, somewhere between the high 90's and HELL.
Humid, too....a little bonus.

Well, my daily highlight is that I saw my first of the dreaded Mexican comb-overs:
I was sitting in a little local taco shop having lunch. There was an older gentleman (OK--about my age)--who had the worst dye job. It was like someone had taken a can of flat black spray paint and gone to town (except for the roots). And then the stylistic highlight--he had combed it beginning just above the left ear completely over the top to the ear on the opposite side. God forbid, I thought, that there should be a strong wind. He'd fall over. On his left side.

But I shouldn't be mean. He was doing a favor at the time, helping two ladies at another table who weren't able to unscrew their soda pop bottle tops. Ah, the gallantry of Mexican men.

Back to the weather--Among the Eskimos, they have a way of qualifying the degree of coldness, a way made famous in the name of the 70's rock band, Three Dog Night. On the opposite end of the thermometer, and much further down the latitude rings, in Guaymas, I had a Three Shower Day. I don't know that I've ever sweated so much. Cascades of sweat. Waterfalls dribbling off my forehead. Now I understand the custom of midday siesta. It's just too damn hot to even think about doing ANYTHING. For which reason I wrote this lying butt naked on my bed with the A/C on high and fan aimed at my head (this is not an attractive mental picture, I realize). What the heck, I should try writing in my birthday suit more often! Problem is that the spiral notebook leaves funny little marks on funny little places. Oh well.

Last night's hotel in Guaymas--the San Enrique (Saint Henry) was a palace by comparison to tonight's. My "Let's Go Mexico" travel guide called it "spotless," and it was. But small. Slightly larger than a monk's cell, but hey, I AM practically a monk. Free computer WI-FI, cable TV with CNN in English.....all this for about $29. Such a steal!

Tonight in La Paz, not so much. The room is bigger, has a balcony. But as we say in Missouri, it looks "rode hard, put away wet." Which roughly translates as: seen better days. It's after sundown now and I'm sitting in a Internet cafe, having an iced coffee. I'll go for a walk along the malecon (seaside walk). It should be cooler and pretty. Even so, I'm thinking that these coastal cities may just be out of the beauty pageant. The humidity makes my hair curly! OK, I lied. I'm bald. Remember this is almost November. Imagine the weather in July or August. My taxi driver today described the climate in the summer in one word: HELL.

I finally appreciate the old saying in Arizona, "It's a dry heat." Here, it's NOT. Moist heat is only good for one thing that I know of--cooking tough old cuts of meat. And yes, I can see where you're going with that analogy.

The flight over the Sea of Cortez (Gulf of California) from Guaymas to La Paz was on a tiny little Cessna Grand Caravan, a 13-seater, kind of like a little wind-up toy. I'm glad no fat people were on the flight....we would have had to use a shoe horn to get them in. Only an hour and a half flight, we could see the Baja peninsula 30 minutes after leaving Guaymas. But La Paz is quite a bit south, so we trailed the Baja coast south for quite a while.

Hasta maƱana.