Christmas in Progresso

 

My Favorite home is being renovated

30 + years ago I went to Merida, Mexico for Christmas with my brother and his family. Little did we know that a cold front of epic proportions was about to hit. We drove from Atlanta and arrived at the Tampa airport for our flight in a blanket of snow flurries. No worries we said, we're going to sunny Mexico. It took 2 days for the cold bomb to reach us in Merida. The temperature dropped to freezing. There are few heaters in this part of Mexico because it's always warm. You are lucky person to have a hot water heater in your home in this part of Mexico for a shower. No one even sells sweaters in this part of the world for gods sake, BECAUSE IT’S ALWAYS HOT! We hunkered down in our hotel room to keep warm that Christmas. Luckily it was a spa hotel and every room featured a steam bath, which we blasted continuously with the door open for several days. It was a moist experience and we returned home with a Christmas story like no other.

Gusts to 50mph off the Gulf.

This is a story about when God says, “HA!”

The Arctic Blast approaches.

Once again, I find myself in Mexico during the holiday with the exact same weather. What are the chances? This time the temp dropped only to the 50’s, but the real craziness was the wind. Gusts up to 70mph. We could see dark line of the front rolling in across the flat Gulf. It became a very scary day or two. I firmly believe, that is there had been no hurricane shutters on the front balcony of our Gulf front condo, the sliding glass doors would have blown in. As it were, they were bouncing in and out of their tracks in response to the wind. The noise was deafening between the windows shaking and the howling of the wind. We spent our days sitting in the bedrooms, which were less windy and farthest from the beach. One of the living room windows was installed backwards and upside down, which created a wondrous waterfall during the height of the storm and a subsequent pond under the dining table. Ah, adventure, You are never fun when it’s happening 

Merida is full of old homes like this along the beach

The Yucatan - my first experience with international travel.

In the 70’s the Mexican government developed Cancun as a resort. When I first visited in the late 70’s, there were all of 5 hotels in Cancun. None were the large properties that one visits now. To kick-start the tourism trade, the government subsidized flights into the new airport and for most of the 70/80’s, I could fly round trip to the Yucatan/Quintana Roo for $99.00 USD.

Beautiful beaches, but I didn’t like the newness and artificial vibe of Cancun, so my previous partner and I explored down the beach as far as Belize and deep inland across the peninsula. Beautiful Merida became our go to entry point; clean, safe and cosmopolitan, with buildings reminiscent of New Orleans. We took every opportunity to visit. Close to beaches on the Gulf, we ventured to Progresso via the bus, a 30 minute ride from town.

Large Dino's adorn the roof of the Museum

I returned for years with friends who were amazed at the pristine location and lack of tourism. The beauty of Progresso was also in its incredible colonial homes which dotted the Malecon and beaches. Impressively, large homes with summer breezes for the rich during summer. My favorite home in the world, old then, still remains at the end of the Malecon. Due to all these great memories and close proximity to Miami, this is where we decided to retreat during Christmas while waiting on our Spanish Visa.

Today, Progresso, now boasts the longest pier in the world. Horrifyingly large Carnival Cruise ships stop twice a week. The Malecon was beautifully renovated to accommodate the holiday cruisers, as well as 2 or 3 blocks which extend to the central Mercado.  It remains paradise, as long as you’re not in town on Tuesdays or Thursdays when the ship rolls in.

9pm New Years Eve on the Malecon

Our home this month, is a rented a 2-bedroom condo, directly on the beach at the end of the Malecon. Built in the 70’s (or thereabouts), it has a million-dollar view and has a very comfortable bed. We elected to stay on the 3^rd floor as part of our exercise routine. To the left of us is a playa bar, where you can sit under the palm trees on rented chaise lounge for $7 USD and be pampered all day long. Beers, tequila, rum, tacos, pescado frito; you can bet your bottom dollar if you ask for something they do not have, someone will be sent to town to get it for you. For the next month, their music will drift thru my windows from 8am – 8pm. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, expect to hear old American rock and roll.

A block from the beach where the tourist rarely go

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Spain the first 2 weeks

The first night of Pintxos

The plan was to attend Spanish Language school for a week, at the beginning of our month in Spain. We decided on the city of Santander, one of the debarkation points for the car ferry from the UK. The city renowned for having one of the most pristine estuaries in all of Spain. A very hilly and vertical Santander on the bay.

We flew into the small airport in Bilboa, and spent a delightful 2 days at the swanky Hotel Melia - close to the Guggenheim Museum and overlooking the tree lined park which follows the Rio Nervion. Recovering from the flight in a deliciously comfortable bed and spending our first evening sampling Pinxtos throughout the city, we were ready for the bus ride to Santander and Spanish class.

Bilbao. The Nevioro River

An hour bus ride along the coast deposited us in Santander, which on first glance was slightly dowdy and dated after the sparkling streets of Bilboa. Santander is the home of the Delta Language school and a Spanish seaside resort town. Pickle plans on meeting us here mid-week, for the vacation portion of our trip. Santander is also a vertical city. There are escalator sidewalks, due to the steep inclines. I would end up huffing and puffing my way around the city. Thanks, Mr. Beta-Blocker.

School was hard, mentally and physically, but we made great friends while there. We both learned a lot and it was a great experience. I highly recommend them.  By the end of our time in Santander, with more time spent hoofing around its streets, I was in love! Gritty, vibrant and young. After all our travels in Spain, it remains high on the list of my favorites.

Swing foretales a great time

Pickle arrives, H rents the smallest car he can and we three pack in with our bags for the drive to the caves of Monte Castillo and for several days stay in the medieval town of Potes located in the middle of Los Picos National Park.

The entry to the cave

Potes

Pick doesn't want to miss a dance

The Caves of Monte Castillo were remarkable. They are some of the oldest caves know with intact cave paintings, which are still accessible to tourists. Still, the cave remains sealed at the entrance with temperature and moisture monitors thru out. Soon it will be closed to the public, as the ice age art is slowly disappearing due to the daily visits of tourist and archeologists alike. 

The small town of Potes is as “cute as fuck”, Pickle and I agree. A twisty, turnie cobblestoned medieval hamlet, it is now the gateway get away to the grand peaks of Los Picos. After World War II, Lebanese immigrants were invited to relocate to the area and practice their homeland skill of sheep/goat herding. The combo of Spanish and Lebanese makes for interesting dinner combinations. Goat cheese abounds.

At the top. Los Pico's National Park 

San Vicente de la Barquera

 
We end up back in Bilboa for the Picks flight home.  She has found the swing dancers and our last evening in town is spent sipping wine on the river that runs thru Bilboa and watching frantic swing dancers, doing their thing. We leave her to her fun and wander sown the tree lined pedestrian street toward home.