We have been TERRIBLE with posting lately but this morning I thought I’d grab a few minutes to post some of our favourite Cinque Terre photos from our trip there in April.

Cinque Terre was one of the most beautiful places we’ve ever visited. The combination of the dramatic clifffaces, azure blue ocean, colorful townships and ancient oceanside ruins meant many WOW moments – and me snapping away like a maniac on our camera!

We have LOADS of posts to write about the best places to see, where to stay and how to get around – I promise they are coming soon – but for now here are some of our favorite snapshots.

I’ll let the photos do the talking…

Cute township of Riomaggiore at sunset

Beautiful coastline at sunset in Riomaggiore, Cinque Terre

Overlooking Riomaggiore, Cinque Terre

Overlooking Riomaggiore in the evening

Amazing view from the train station in Riomaggiore, Cinque Terre

Lovely township of Vernazza, Cinque Terre

Vernazza, Cinque Terre: My Favorite Spot

Stunning Oceanside in Vernazza, Cinque Terre

Awesome rocks in Monterosso al Mare

Beautiful beach in Monterosso al Mare, Cinque Terre

Driving south from Genova, or Cinque Terre, or even Pisa, Lucca sits quietly, unassuming, not quite yet deep into the Tuscan countryside. Lucca is a small town, mainly known for it’s center – the walled city.

Unfortunately, the walled city is in Lucca is all we got to see, but I don’t doubt that, as one waiter told us, “there’s a whole world of Lucca outside the city walls”. NOT unfortunately, Lucca turned out to be one of our favorite spots in Tuscany. This is why…

You enter the city past a wide mote of green grass surrounding the outside wall of the city. You can imagine an actual water filled moat was there at one time – something that looked far more intimidating – but today, the entrance to the city is both enchanting, and inviting. The wall is an attraction itself. You can hire a bike and ride round it’s edge, indulging voyeurism and peering down into the city from on high the whole time.

Inside the city is a generally typical small European city feel. Small cute shops, motorbikes and bicycles making their way along narrow streets, occasionally cobblestoned, tourists sauntering along with their gelatis, corners opening up into bustling Piazzas at many a turn.

But as you walk, Lucca begins to show you it’s depth. It boasts a bustling high end shopping quarter, with countless trendy boutiques. I’m not much for shopping but I can see it making a perfect place to spend some money outside of the token shopping locations like Florence. It has a small botanic garden that you can tour for about 6 Euros, complete with a little pond and a wide variety of flowers. And it has a multitude of proud, character filled antique shops, interesting even to the person with little interest in the subject.

That’s not even the half of it. If I could recommend a few things:

1. There’s a famous bakery right behind the church in the main square (forgive me for forgetting the name, but you won’t miss this square). They sell, among other things, the local Tuscan cake called Buccelato. There is a special version of this made just in Lucca called… surprisingly, Buccelato di Lucca, which is apparently amazing. I say apparently because we actually passed this up for some of the other amazing sweet pastries on offer – ohhh boy. None of them are named, but we got a little tart of stacked, really thin slices of pastry, with custard in between and chocolate and icing sugar on top. Another was a cookie, half covered with chocolate, and with a lump inside it filled with this real orange paste stuff: also amazing. Anything you get from there will be good. Just do it. Apparently Prince Charles tried the Buccelato there during a trip to Lucca once. If you weren’t sold before, THAT should do the trick

2. Just walk. It’s a small town, there are maps everywhere, and it’s walled in, so basically impossible to get lost. There are a handful of piazzas, and you’ll easily find your way to whatever takes your fancy once you’re there. You can also hire a bike if you want to expend energy. There are bike hire shops all around and while we didn’t do it, they seem inexpensive.

3. Dinner: Don’t bother going ANYWHERE but Cantini Bernadini. Don’t look up restaurants, don’t check reviews, just do it. It’s number 1 on Tripadvisor for those interested, but even if it wasn’t, you would be a fool to miss it. We had probably one of the best meals in our life there – and I DON’T say that lightly. They serve high quality dishes with local ingredients. That’s local meats, local cheeses, local olive oils, local wines. The waiter Fabiano is a champion. He knows everything about the places each of the ingredients come from, everything about how to match the right wines with the right food with the right olive oils… and in fact everything about Lucca itself. Yes, he is a guru. We had delicious pastas, and freakishly sweet desserts (including soft Italian meringue just to whet your appetite). I repeat: If you don’t go there for dinner at least once, you’re a fool.

4. If you have more time, spend just a day, maybe 2 inside the walls, then venture out to the other sites in the region. There are some beautiful gardens, a cave, some cool ATV tours, and more. You’ll need a car to get around because each of these places are pretty spread out – some half an hour apart.

5. If you’re staying for a night or more, don’t get fooled into thinking you have to stay inside the walls. There is a lot of accommodation just outside the walls, a 5 minute walk to the city entrance, that is perfectly convenient and much cheaper. The area around there is nice, perfectly clean and safe feeling and because there’s more room out there, you’ll likely get a bigger hotel, bigger room, possibly better facilities too.

Lucca is scenic, kinda magical, and you’ll find it very tough NOT to enjoy.

Here are a few of our favorite Lucca photos…

Cute little square in Lucca, Italy

Historic Centre of Lucca, Tuscany

Beautiful cathedral in Lucca, Tuscany

Incredible pastries from Pasticceria Taddeucci in Lucca

Historic centre in Lucca, Italy

Italy’s west coast was warmly welcoming today. A nice flight in over a glistening blue Mediterranean and a gentle landing at a cute little airport in Pisa. Even though it’s only our second time in Italy, I’m going to go out on a limb to say that March is surely the best time of year to visit. We exit the airport terminal and enter a cloudless blue sky day; sunshine only strong enough to let you know it’s there, and a soft spring breeze to match. Perfect.

Couple of twists at the airport. Tip: There’s a whole different part of the terminal JUST for the rental car companies. You have to exit the airport, turn right, and walk over to a shuttle bus station that takes you 100 meters round the corner to where your rental car awaits. Of course no one tells you THAT when you book.

Otherwise, rental car pickup is easy, and before long we’re off on our drive to Cinque Terre. The internet had some nasty things to say about driving to and in Cinque Terre, but having made it there, we submit them all to be unfounded. The drive is about 1.5 hours North West of Pisa on the A12, Genova-Livorno highway.

You head toward Genova until you see the signs for La Spezia. You roll through La Spezia where you follow the signs to Cinque Terre. 20 minutes further up and around a mountain through some tunnels and past some spectacular & dramatic coastline scenery, you arrive at Riomaggiore, the Southernmost (and apparently most vehicle friendly) of the 5 “terre”s.

Another tip: As you drive around the cliffs into the village of Riomaggiore, you won’t ever be as high up as you are when that drive begins. Stop to take some photos at this high vantage point, because you won’t be at that altitude again until you exit and the landscape… or rather, the seascape is completely breathtaking.

Viewing the ocean from so high up, you can’t help puzzle at how there seems to be “so much water”. It’s like looking at an ocean from any other shoreline, but viewing it from high above, the water somehow looks bigger… it takes up more of your field of vision. It’s grandiose and mystical all at once.

We find our accommodation – “I Limoni” on the cliff in Riomaggiore. After ringing the bell at the gate, a tiny 50 something Italian lady with a orange brown hair and a hoarse voice shows us up some stairs and to our room. She doesn’t speak English, but somehow she’s so friendly that with almost no Italian, we find it easy to understand her – she even insisted on helping us with our bags!

Cinque Terre is impressing so far.

Our apartment at I Limoni is surprisingly modern. Yet all the reader needs to know is that the bedroom opens up to a generous balcony that overlooks the ocean. In the day, you can open the door and let the sun caress you as you nap, read, or take in the view. And in the evening, lying in bed, we could gaze up at the moon.

Finally leaving our room we stroll down and around the hills, into the village of Riomaggiore. There’s an ancient castle perched on a cliffside, an old but recently restored church, and a single main “via” into the village and along to the water’s edge.

Finding something to eat in the Riomaggiore village is a little bit of a challenge. We came across maybe 12 restaurants, of which: 4 weren’t open at 7pm on a Wednesday evening, 1 we sat down at but left after we saw the food that was coming out, 1 that was seafood only (a no go for Elysia), and another 2 or 3 that only served what looked like drinks and entrees.

Finally we picked what looked slightly less touristy and stopped in a little chocolateria that happened to also serve Pizza, and that had a few decrepit old men inside taking keen interest in the Italian version of “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire” on TV.

While our pizzas were made on site, they weren’t the highlight of the day. They filled an empty stomach but that’s about it. We resign ourselves to continuing the hunt for perfect Italian Pizza as the trip continues.

Finally the day ended with one of those uncanny instances of “travel luck”. In an effort to shortcut our walk home, I suggested an alternate route. It could have easily failed, leaving us an even greater, steeper walk home, but instead it lead to a little Cinque Terre gem…

Reaching the peak of a hill, we returned to that old castle we passed earlier. To it’s side there is a wooden cross monument, next to two benches in front of a lookout. In the backdrop of the lookout is a glowing red sunset. You’ve got a view of the sea, the mountains, and the sunset, and a chunk of the township all at once. And we reached it exactly as the sunset was at it’s most vibrant. Certainly a case of Buona Fortuna!

I’m fortunate to say that this list became very tricky to write. We have just had such a ball this year in so many different places around the world, it was hard to narrow it down to just 10 top moments.

Nonetheless – here it is, top to bottom, our most memorable moments of the year 2010.

10. Sand Dune Jeep Ride – Newcastle, Australia

On our trip back to Australia in August we visited some friends of ours in Newcastle, NSW, who’s place backs on to an enormous 20 mile long stretch of wide, undisturbed, beachfront. When you’re out on it, it feels like you’re in a desert. You can see nothing but sand. After a big night catching up, drinking the night away, we took off for a ride out on the sand dunes in a little jeep.

We traversed great sandhills, tackled steep declines that you’d think would make the vehicle flip, and got to see an abandoned ship just off the shore. We finished the day off with a nice lunch overlooking the water at a local surf club. Certainly a unique and memorable day.

9. Hotel Des Artistes Rooftop Pool – Punta de Mita, Mexico

This one’s fairly easy to explain. Good friends, a rooftop infinity pool that overlooks much of West Coast Mexico’s Banderas Bay, on a day with seemingly endless yet not too harsh sunshine, sliding back and forth between cocktails in the pool and naps on the sun lounge.

There were a lot of moments like this through our year in Mexico, but the combination of all these elements was definitely a recipe for a pretty memorable little afternoon.

8. Cocktails, Street Tacos, Salsa Dancing – Puerto Vallarta, Mexico

This year we met two people who we connected with more so than anyone we’ve met on our travels so far. The kind of people you just meet, but you feel like you’ve known forever. This was a rather memorable night that started with these guys (Sean & Carla) at our favorite cocktail bar in old town Vallarta with 2 for 1 cocktails, masterfully prepared by the coolest Canadian in Vallarta: Big Al. The cocktails flowed (as they do when it’s 2 for 1 in Mexico) for a couple hours while Sean and I made intermittent trips to the street taco stand downstairs as I introduced them to the highly alluring, all flavorful “tacos al pastor”.

We maxed out on tacos and cocktails and so made our way to the ever authentic “La Bodeguita Del Medio” – a Cuban restaurant on Puerto Vallarta’s Malecon that hosts salsa dancing most nights of the week. The rest of the night proceeded in a blur of Mojitos, Tequila shots, and minimally skillful Salsa dancing, courtesy of our instructor Sean, who had just returned from a trip to Chile and learned a few good steps!

7. Villa La Estancia Weekend – Nuevo Vallarta, Mexico

For my birthday in February, Elysia booked a night (that quickly turned into 2) for us in a completely outlandish, 5 star hotel suite on the beach in Nuevo Vallarta. This was the first real hotel “suite” we’d stayed at (though not the last of 2010) before, so the excitement as we walked in the double wooden doors on the 13th of 15 floors was almost overwhelming.

We realized that a “suite” at this type of place is actually a small house. 2 bedrooms, a fully stocked kitchen, an enormous balcony complete with sun lounges and a dining table, multiple 40 inch LCD TVs, jacuzzi in the bathroom… ridiculous doesn’t really cover it.

Elysia and I literally sat for 2 days, in our bath robes, back and forth between reading on our lounges on the balcony, sipping drinks in the jacuzzi, and watching movies on one of the TVs. How could that NOT make our top 10?

6. Basilique du Sacre Coeur, Hills of Mont Martre, Moulin Rouge – Paris, France.

2010 also saw Elysia and my first trip to Paris. There was any number of things that could have made this list, (most notably our visit to the simply breathtaking Palace of Versailles) but our day exploring in Mont Martre has to be near the top.

Amongst other things we hopped off the subway and climbed the hill to the magical Basilica that sits at it’s top. It’s an old Roman Catholic church perched at the highest point of the city. You can take a wander through it’s inside, then sit at it’s steps and overlook the entire city of Paris… which we did… at sunset.

This was followed by a lovely meander back down the hill through curious side streets filled with local butchers, bakers and candlestick makers where we grabbed some homemade chocolates and took photos of little outdoor restaurants and the still spectacular view.

If that wasn’t enough, in the evening we grabbed tickets at the all famous Moulin Rouge. We had terrible seats and were only half impressed at the tourist filled cabaret show, but there’s no doubt it was the perfect end to a completely memorable day.

5. City Of Diamonds – Antwerp, Belgium

Returning to the UK at the end of 2010 we took our first Europe trip with Elysia’s sister, her husband, and our little nephew. It didn’t start out being our aim, but the city of Antwerp definitely ended up being the trip’s highlight.

From the first step out of our hotel and into the quiet but active street market, we knew Antwerp would be something special. In the space of 10 minutes I’d grabbed some Vietnamese chicken skewers with noodles for lunch, a Belgian waffle for desert, and some Belgian sweets from this market, and certainly left it feeling like I’d “maximized” the experience.

Antwerp just continued to impress, with our most enjoyable day comprising a quick visit to the town’s enormous Gothic cathedral, a walk through the cobblestone streets down to the river on which the city sits, a jaunt through a nearby castle which is now some kind of Naval museum, an insanely thick Belgium hot chocolate to recharge, before dinner at a wild 3 story Italian restaurant that pumped random club/hip hop music and served up utterly delectable food to it’s noisy but highly entertained crowd.

4. Mystical Mountain Hideaway – San Sebastian, Mexico

This will go down as one of my favorite travel memories of all time. We had a new friend of ours (Rachel) visiting, and had hired a car and drove about an hour inland from Vallarta into the Sierra Madre mountain range. In amongst the hills sits a tiny 400 year old mining town called San Sebastian.

We started out exploring the town’s streets. To prevent burglars in the mining days, all the streets look like they’ll lead to an exit but actually lead around in a circle back into the middle of town. So there’s technically only one way to get in and out.

It came to the evening and we wanted to find a little bar for a drink. We saw a sign for this bar that had been converted from an old underground bunker and with it’s big, black stone brick walls, definitely caught our eye. We wandered into this place and thought it was closed. It was just the owner and his musician, drinking away with one another, fiddling with their mini sound stage.

We started out drinking around a table in this little circular tower (just for 3 people to fit) which we later learned was a converted guard tower complete with little holes in the bricks where guards could point and aim their guns at local thieves!

Half way through the night, the owner comes up to us with an enormous 4L container of this miscellaneous clear yet slightly yellow colored  liquid. He tells us it’s their last night in the town and they are partying to celebrate. We are the only people in the bar, so he offers us free glasses of what is of course, a copious quantity of his friend’s home made Tequila.

We sit around discussing everything from types of Tequila, to political corruption, to Mexican music. That last one turns out to be particularly relevant because the guys we’re talking to are both musicians, one of which is an (apparently) famous Mexican folk singer!

Of course with 2 musicians and a sound stage with keyboard and microphone already set up, it was only a matter of time before drunken Karaoke began. Next thing, we were listening to an impromptu concert as one of the guys sang and the other played Piano. To pause for reflection, we were now sitting in an ancient underground bunker, drinking home made Tequila, getting privately serenaded with Mexican love songs by two random middle aged Mexican men we’d just met.

The inevitable occurred next, as I took to the stage (somehow wearing one of their jackets), and joined the keyboardist for a duet of some random Elton John classics, before deciding that enough Tequila was enough, and making our way back to our room to bed.

Even all of this wasn’t enough as the next day we took a treacherous drive up the mystical mountain of “La Bufa” with these two guys and got to see the view from one of Mexico’s highest peaks. Unforgettable doesn’t do this weekend justice.

3. Snowboarding Trip – Christchurch, New Zealand

Sadly Elysia wasn’t a part of this one, but it was something I had to include. Somehow, a friend of mine was able to organize 7 of our best mates to all be in the same place at the same time (we all live in different cities of the world now) and take a trip to the South Island of New Zealand for some snowboarding.

I got to spend 4 days, talking shit and having a blast while flying down mountains with my oldest friends in one of the most picturesque parts of the world. An extremely cherished memory of 2010 for me.

2. Town Of Mazatlan – Mazatlan, Mexico

This magical moment had two parts. Our luxury stay at Mazatlan’s Hotel Riu was the first. This can be summed up by the words: Jacuzzi on balcony on 25th of 28 floors of the beachfront hotel. Corner apartment. 270 Pacific Ocean views. The sheer bliss of sitting in the bubbles, cerveza in hand, overlooking the ocean and the setting sun is burned into my psyche forever.

Part 2 of the trip was our exploration of the actual town of Mazatlan, from the bizarre old European style streets where every old building was painted a different bright color, to the fascinating local art gallery in a family’s house and courtyard where we were inspired for the first time (despite not being art people at all) to buy a piece of art… to Mazatlan’s breathtaking coastline… This town is a wonder, and a place that begs us to return.

1. Proposal Week – New York City, New York.

This had to be the most special moment of 2010 for us. Probably the most special moment of our next 50 years too.

On a spectacular sunny day at the very beginning of Autumn, in the voluptuously green and blooming Central Park, Elysia and I enjoyed a casual morning stroll, sipping our frapuccinos, taking in the sites and smells of the world famous outdoor area.

Stopping just by the fountain, my months of secret planning and organization came to a head as I got down on one knee and asked the beautiful woman to marry me.

She said yes, I spent the next half hour telling her everything that had been kept secret the past 6 months, and we wandered back through the park and then the streets of Manhattan’s midtown as we discussed plans for our wedding and our future.

It’s one of those top 3 moments in your life and for us, it was everything we could have hoped it to be.

That’s it!

That’s our top 10 moments of 2010. I feel like we’ve set the bar so high, I don’t know how we’ll top this in 2011. For everyone reading, I can’t recommend enough how powerful is to write a list like this for yourself and reflect back on everything you’ve done in the past year that’s brought you great amounts of joy. And if you do end up writing one, make sure you comment here and let us know!

Las Vegas is a strange place, for many a reason more than the obvious.

Looking down from your hotel window you’re likely to see a tropical pool, palm trees, deckchairs, swim up bars… men and women laying in the sun, working on their tans. You could be forgiven for thinking that you were at a beach resort in California, or Mexico, or Thailand, or Australia…

But you’re not. You’re in the middle of a desert. A big, bad, flat, hot, plane of dirt with no beaches and no water for miles.

You can observe the common sentiments, like that Las Vegas is a place of excess. Where everything is taken to the extreme. Past normal. Into the ridiculous.

But it’s more than that.

Where normally, a hotel is a place you go to sleep, to stay in a town in order to see all the parts of it, in Vegas, the hotel IS the town. The hotel IS the attraction. That’s what you’re there to see. There is nothing else.

And somehow it IS an attraction. It IS attractive. They’ve done it.

You walk from one hotel to the next in perpetual amazement. Amazement that the casinos are so big, amazement at the amount of flashing lights, amazement at how much money is being spent, amazement at a half naked burlesque dancer with a meter high headress of feathers walking around in a public place. But maybe most of all, amazement that an entire city has been constructed seemingly for the sole purpose of… amazing you!

As strange as Vegas is however; as weird as the contrasts and the contradictions and the insanity all is; you can’t help but enjoy it. It forces you to love it. There’s a very small number of ways you can NOT have a good time there.

Whatever you like is there, in it’s extreme form. If you like food, if you like sight seeing, if you like movies or music, or theater or dance… or if you just like interesting places to get drunk and party, Vegas is surely the place to be.

You go from pre-dinner drinks at a crazy Mexican bar on the strip with cheap Margaritas and random 80′s music, to dinner at a fancy restaurant where you eat 6 courses including rich home made meatballs, gourmet pastas and for desert (prepare yourself…) deep fried Oreos topped with sugar and dipped in Vanilla thickshake. You head from a quick flirt with the slot machines, to an extravagant musical production where fake elephants walk down the aisles and men dressed as deer prance lifelike across a stage, to a rooftop pool bar with promo models handing out free Scotch tasters, back to a desert bar to end the night with triple chocolate crepes topped with brownie pieces, hot runny fudge and a mountain of chocolate whipped cream to…

You see what I mean?

By the end of your time there, you’ll be exhausted. You’ll have eaten too much, drunk too much, spent too much, seen too much, and done too much. But you will feel like a rockstar. You will have had a blast.

Vegas is a strange place. Kind of like that strange uncle who has the weird hair, the alternative views and will talk to you about sex before your parents will. He’s so out there, but he’s kinda your favorite. He’s super fun, but in small doses.

He IS crazy, but you love him. That’s Vegas.

I hate dogs. There, I said it. I don’t find them cute, I hate when they lick you after licking their nether regions all day, and I hate that people buy them clothes.

Or at least I did before our encounter with her.

It was on a peaceful mid-morning stroll down a quiet beach trail that we first met Maria. We didn’t call her that then – for now she was just stray dog number #127 in this sleepy little beach town.

But it wasn’t long before we realized she wasn’t like the other neighborhood canines.

We didn’t know exactly how to reach our destination that morning but the owner of the cabin we stayed at had told us there was only one road down to the beach, so we couldn’t get lost. Things weren’t quite as straight forward as he seemed to think, with pathways spraying off – one looking equally as much a “main track” as the next – frequently veering around hidden corners left and right, leading into little shaded courtyards, quiet family shops, or down to the shore where fisher-children in their little boats hang out. It turned out we needed some help with directions. And fortunately on this day, Maria decided to oblige.

It was about 15 minutes down the path that we realized Maria (we decided she needed to have a Spanish lady’s name) knew well the way to the beach and was indeed leading us there – experience telling her of course, that that’s where tourists are normally headed. At this stage I figured from a stray dog’s mind it was a pretty easy gig. Pick up a tourist walking along the path, walk with them down to the beach and maybe they give you some of their food.

But Maria’s level of commitment seemed to betray that she was in it for more than just a meal.

We were advised by a local man that the normal path down to the beach (where Maria was leading us) had been flooded and that we needed to go an alternate route. As soon as Maria saw us change plans she was back out in front, leading us down the alternate route, obviously knowing the way just as well as the man who advised us.

Then came a challenge. A river crossing.

This alternate route involved making our way across a flowing body of water of about 50 meters width that was along side the beach, rushing into the ocean. Of course, Maria was the first in.

We could stand up in the waist high water but for Maria, with only an average dogs swimming skills, paddling against a current is tough. “It’s a pretty hard way to earn a feed Maria”, I thought.

Nonetheless, we crossed the river and carried on the path. After one more disagreement where we inevitably deferred to Maria’s navigational judgment, we were at our destination. We’d also officially declared Maria our friend for the weekend.

We brought Maria some tacos from the local restaurant on the beachfront but not once did it seem like that’s what she was there for. She didn’t sit by us looking up with those doggy eyes. She didn’t beg, she hardly stirred. Maria was too wise for that. She had too much dignity.

She sat by us for the afternoon, relaxing, popping into the waves for a swim when we did, and retiring to her spot in the shade when we did. About this point we realized Maria didn’t really want food. She wanted a friend.

So it came time to leave the beach and jump in a little boat to take the short trip across the bay back to our cabin. By this time it was decided that Maria was coming with us. We were preparing to lift her on to the boat and everything. What we didn’t realize was that Maria had already made the decision for us. No lifting was required.

Maria, with all the strength in her old bones, leaped from the shoreline, got her front paws over the edge of the boat, and wriggled her way in. By now the idea that this was a scam she pulled to pick up free food was long gone. For at this stage even I, dog hater extraordinaire was convinced that Maria “liked” us, and wanted to be in our company. But the spectacle that was Maria continued to grow.

We arrived back at our beach, from where we had to walk about 100m to our cabin. Maria hadn’t seen us at this place earlier in the day as we had only met her much farther down the path. She didn’t know where we lived, so we figured this time we would be leading her.

Wrong.

As soon as we started walking Maria took off up ahead. We thought maybe that was it, and she was returning to her home somewhere around here too. But strangely, somehow, she was walking in the direction of our house.

By this time we believed Maria capable of anything but none of us really thought there was some way she could know which house we’d lived in.

We continued up the path, around the corner, up the steps, and sure enough, there was Maria, sitting patiently at our front door.

The four of us stood speechless, our jaws hanging open.

How many tourists must have stayed in this house? How many times can this dog have done this? Maybe she picked up our smell but how many tourists smells must she have smelled that day? How many similar smelling tourists must have lived in the same area? How had she done it? And WHY?

In that moment, Maria became the most extraordinary dog that had ever lived.

She spent the night, we cooked her dinner, she stood guard over our house and barked when people came to the door, and politely walked to the exit to notify us when she needed to go potty.

We hung out for the rest of the weekend and when we left, sadly, we parted.

Still one week later I can’t come to terms with the fact that a stray dog, obviously kicked around in its life, underfed, malnourished and disadvantaged, could have developed such a kind and gentle nature.

I didn’t think stray dogs would develop connections with people – they don’t have owners! I didn’t think stray dogs would know that they shouldn’t do their business in the house! I didn’t think stray dogs would have the tendency to be protective over a given area – they don’t have homes!

I’m not the kind of person who says things like this, or even believes the following statement to be possible, but I can’t help but think that somehow, Maria “cared” about us. We hadn’t raised her, and we’d only known her for half a day, but she wanted to be around us. She wanted to make sure we were alright.

And you know what? If there’d been doggy t-shirts for sale in Yelapa – I might just have bought her one.

A lot of changes take place in Mexico during summer. While there are many such changes, there is one in particular that doesn’t become apparent until you get behind the wheel of a car.

The defining feature of a Mexican summer, particularly so the further south you are from the US border, is the heavy, ever present tropical rains.

The rain itself changes the face of many Mexican towns. Streets flow with water, local kids float about their neighborhoods on their bodyboards and nobody but the gringos carry an umbrella.

While the locals love or ignore it, tourists of the time are doomed to have it affect their trip. Not least of all those taking to the roads.

Number one casualty of the summer rains is the road surface quality. In other words, the sudden appearance of angry, lurking, crater of the moon sized potholes all over the place. Driving in Mexico can be daring enough at the best of times, and potholes are ever present regardless of the season, but when you start to multiply both their number and their size, an every day car trip quickly becomes a sadistic and dangerous “don’t hit the cones” type driving exam.

They hide where there are shadows, disguise themselves by filling with water, and cloak their severity by clouding with dust. And just when you think you’ve dodged one, BOOM – another one gets ya!

Oh, and if you are skilled enough to deal with the pot holes… next up you’ve got road closures.

The rains do tremendous damage as tree branches get blown down, and mud and debris get washed over the roads. In Puerto Vallarta this year a 60m long chunk of a bridge on the main highway flat out washed away – certain drivers narrowly avoiding plumeting to their death!

The difference between Mexico and say Australia or the US is that when roads get damaged, the cleanup process is slow and notifications are severely lacking.

Just this week we tried to drive from Puerto Vallarta to Sayulita – normally an hour or so drive. We turned down a road with a sign pointing to Sayulita – everything looking normal – until we started to watch the road become gradually more precarious. We passed a lone horse rider shaking his finger at us and finally got the hint. 2 minutes later the road became a death trap and we were forced to turn back.

No signs, no notification, no one minding.

I don’t mean to be totally doomsday or put anyone off from a planned driving trip in Mexico. It’s a superb experience and if you’re ready to take it all in your stride, a highly enjoyable one.

I guess this is mostly a warning for those who are considering it. If you happen to read this before you take off, I hope it will provide sufficient warning. Be ready! Prepare yourself for battle.  Load up on coffee or red bull or your stimulant of choice before you go, and get ready for some fun. Oh, and make sure you’ve got your spare tire good and ready!

Otherwise, enjoy the trip and come back to let me know how it is.

Technorati Tags: Mexico, Puerto Vallarta

In Mexico, even an improvised game of street volleyball is a family affair.

A few weeks ago some of the boys in our street painted what is basically a full size volleyball court, (complete with boxes for the servers) on the cobblestones of our street. They tied up a proper net between a drain pipe on one side and a neighbors fence on the other and presto: our quiet little calle got completely consumed by a noisy afternoon sports arena.

But you find kids playing in the streets everywhere right? Sure.

Only in Mexico something is different.

The volleyball games that now go on every afternoon outside our building aren’t just enjoyed by the players, the boys who painstakingly concocted this spontaneous stadium.

Every member of each family involved (as far as I can tell) is in attendance. The mothers are watching from the sidelines. The younger daughter is minding the little baby as he wanders the perimeter, seemingly meters from impending danger. The middle brother who doesn’t feel like playing is cheering his siblings on from the galleys. A friend from the neighborhood is monitoring the net to make sure any given play doesn’t dislodge it from it’s ad hoc binding.

Everyone’s involved somehow. And the longer you watch it, the more beautiful it seems.

It’s the consummate example of a yet nameless characteristic I’ve continually observed ever since arriving here.

I was fascinated right from the get go that whenever we’d call a service person to our house, whether for a problem with plumbing, to connect up our phone line, or to fix a leak on the roof, we’d never get a single technician.

The “plumber” that arrived at our house was 1 guy, his two cousins and one of their sons. All doing their little bit to get our drains unclogged and our taps properly sealed.

The guy who connected our phone line brought along his 11 year old son who he was training into the business. The little guy was drilling holes in our wall, connecting wires, and shouting instructions back and forth through his two-way.

Even when our land lord came to fix something on our roof it was him and his 2 buddies. The job took all day between breaks, good chats, and shared beers.

It’s just how it is. Even the simplest of tasks are better performed by a group, not because Mexican’s are lazy or less competent than anyone else. They don’t work in groups because they MUST, but because then CAN.

The other factor we couldn’t help but notice was a stark lack of homeless people around the place. You know that alot of people are poor, and it seems like consequently you should see a lot more beggars, bums sleeping on sidewalks, and all that.

Not in our town.

We posed the question to an American who has lived in the area for 20 years and he promptly replied “It’s because family bonds are so strong here. If you end up on the street, whether it’s a grandparent, a second cousin, or even an in law, SOMEONE will take you in.”

Family comes first. You look after them and you are confident that in the same situation, someone would look after you.

It applies equally to one’s treasures and one’s burdens.

If a taxi driver finds a fun little game to play, flicking a coin on to a rock to help kill time in between taxi shifts, he lets the other drivers know about it too, and they all play together. If you have to waste your one day off work fixing a roof, there’s a buddy who knows that pain and is happy to help shoulder that burden with you.

It’s the unending desire to be connected in this country, whether to family, community, or friends. It’s clear that for the majority, the desire (perhaps the need) to be a part of something greater supersedes the western allure of individualism, the “going it alone”, “don’t need no one/nobody” mindset.

It makes for a delightful culture; particularly if you’ve come from one of the developed nations to which it poses such a contrast. It’s one of the many unique things you come to love about being here; something I know I’ll never forget.

Elysia and I started a fun little travel game recently when we decided to see if we could visit each of the top 20 restaurants in Puerto Vallarta according to TripAdvisor.com

As yet we’re only half way but it’s certainly lead us to some special spots and allowed us many a lasting memory. Here’s a short list of brief mentions from the adventures – a more full list to come!

The highest up the list we’ve hit is number 3 – called El Bacalao. This was a place we walked past almost every day for months and almost never gave a second glance. A completely unassuming place, which from the outside seems only to serve seafood. (large pictures of fish adorn the walls, it’s decoration is mostly blue, and the signs are all for Ceviche, Camaron, Pescado and all the other Spanish words I’ve come to know mean seafood)

Fortunately we got the tip from a nearby barman and were enlightened as to the insanity of the Arrachera steak strips that come with a cheese, herb and pineapple gravy, all served in a lava rock dish, to be had with the ubiquitous tortilla. Suffice it to say that after consuming this meal – it took but 3 days before I was overcome by it’s taste haunting my memory and we were back for more.

Next honorable mention is number 8 on the list, Joe Jack’s Fish Shack. Actually just a few doors down from the aforementioned, this was another place that after our first meal, could not resist returning to within 3 days (No, actually… this one it was 2 days). What haunted memories this time (Elysia’s) was the succulence of a Mexican BBQ Chicken dish, grilled and marinated to moist and flavorful perfection.

I also had the signature Red Snapper cooked in garlic and herbs which did in no way disappoint. Oh AND… it has a gorgeous rooftop terrace to boot.

Next up, at number 9 on the list, Barcelona Tapas. I didn’t intend this post to have such a theme but in fact, this is another of the restaurants we’ve been forced to return to for a second helping after a top notch first experience. Barcelona Tapas just impresses right from the complimentary entre – a warm garlic potato salad that while completely simple, is a taste sensation.

Whether you want to try the Spanish delicacy Paella, or some killer tender beef skewers, BT will fulfill your desires. And talk about a setting. Sitting back up the hill about 5 blocks from the beach, this restaurant has hands down (that we’ve seen so far) – the best view of any in the bay.

If you’ve got a rad Vallarta restaurant you think should be on the list, let us know!

Plenty more to come…

After 3 months in Vallarta, Elysia and I are beginning to take our Mexican food sparingly. Having eaten so much of it we’ve tended to hunt out the other cuisine options of late, if for no other reason than to keep things interesting.

Fajita Republic was a restaurant just off Olas Altas at the very beginning of Basilio Badillo that while always looking popular and interesting on the inside, we’d so far passed up for the aforementioned reason. Fortunately last night we decided to change our minds.

This place impressed us in almost every way that a restaurant can impress.

We loved the atmosphere: open air, the cool bamboo lamp type things creating a perfectly dim light, and the music was (for us RnB lovers) killer! (easy going RnB tunes from 2000-2009).

The food turned out to be Mexican but with enough combinations and variations to make it very interesting, among them our entre, Mayan Cheese Sticks – a cheese stick served in a delicious herb + soup/gravy type broth that you eat with sour cream and salsa, rolled in a tortilla! Yes, a calorie feast to be sure, but worth every extra wasteline millimeter!

For mains, we sampled the “falling off the bone” BBQ ribs, buffalo wings, and a mixed Mexican plate that had quesadilla’s, chicken enchilada’s, Carne Asada, guacamole, and more.

My ribs were (as I described at the time) meat flavor and tenderness: 8/10 – BBQ sauce: 6/10 – could have a little extra flavor. Elysia found the buffalo wings to be a little light on meat although they were voluminous enough to compensate (big enough serving) and our friend’s Mexican plate was delicious from taco to tortilla.

After dinner we took the waiter’s recommendation of a shot called “German Chocolate Cake” which, containing, Vodka and Frangelico plus a sugared lime to suck afterward, was surprisingly creamy and awesome.

Finally, maybe even the BEST part about Fajita Republic is the price! For the kind of place and the area it is, we were ready to pay a LOT more, some notable samples being: $114 pesos (now only 10 USD) for my plate of ribs (even at Chilli’s you pay $180 and these ribs were MUCH better), FREE White Russian after dinner drinks, and free special nacho plate with our entre. All up for 3 of us, an entre, 2 drinks each and 3 mains we paid about $70 USD before tip… just ridiculous!

If you’re considering Fajita Republic, we say DEFINITELY go for it.