THE HONEYMOON, PART II

         What a wonderful place Acapulco was to honeymoon. We had some terrific adventures and saw some things I’ve never forgotten. We also learned the hard way that not drinking the water wouldn’t keep Montezuma’s Revenge away if you also ate salad and used ice cubes. So young and stupid were we.

          Our first order of business was to get me a bathing suit. Oh, me of little faith, I didn’t pack the one I had. I also didn’t expect John to go swimming because of the smaller left calf his bout with polio had given him. He was very sensitive about that. He brought a pair of cut-off pants he used for swimming.

John figured out how we could take the bus from out cottage into downtown. So, we did. We wandered around and found a place that made swimming suits. We went in, they measured me and we waited…can you imagine that? In no time, I tried on a two-piece bathing suit, one that would have been just a trifle too sexy for Seattle. It was a red and yellow print. The top was an actual bra with underwires…this wouldn’t come to Seattle for ages. The bottom was more of a brief than a bikini, but I still felt a bit overexposed.

          On the way back to our lodging, we began to notice some things. First, it was a building of several floors that was being taken down by hand. John talked to someone and the reason for all this hard work was the rebar in the concrete. John told me that because Mexico was a poor country, rebar was expensive. It was cheaper to save the old to use in a new project.

          We saw other evidence of a poor populace. It’s very warm there and we began to notice these little hovels in the bushes alongside the road. I was aghast that people, entire families, were living in these thrown together shacks. No electricity. No running water. Some were built of all kinds of odd-sized pieces of wood. Others had pieces of tin or metal that had been hammered flat.

          John found out there was to be a bullfight. I think it was on the weekend, but I cannot really remember. He got tickets and we went to what had to have been the most horrifying show I’d ever seen once an adjacent attendee told us how it worked. The bull is kept in the dark and not given any food or water. When he’s let out into the arena, he can barely see because it’s so bright and he’s weak. It was the picadors on horseback that inserted the knives into the bull’s neck while the matador waved his cape around. Once it was pointed out, I could see the blood rolling down the bull’s neck and side. Eventually the bull becomes so weak, the matador or a picador kills it with a final knife thrust to the neck. The only saving grace about this whole thing is that our knowledgeable attendee said the bull would be butchered and its remains given to the poor.

          As I mentioned above, we were foolish enough to eat salad and ask for ice cubes. As a result, we became quite familiar with one another’s bathroom needs. Whoever had the room key had best have it handy if the other became in immediate need…and I mean IMMEDIATE. If I had it, John grabbed it and away he went and vice versa. No discussion before or after unless one of us said, “made it, thank God.” Any embarrassment we felt at the beginning of this experience soon evaporated because it was a daily, and often more than once, need.

          I also had the best Coke I’ve ever had in my entire life there. We were out walking and it was hot. We went into some little shop and John bought two cokes. We took them outside before we opened them. Once opened, the entire contents turned into a 7-11 Slurpee…it became filled with little pieces of ice. It was so cold and good and refreshing. I’ve tried to duplicate that Coke at home, but never managed to do so.

          Ah, the water. I simply cannot say enough about the clarity or warmth of the Pacific Ocean in Acapulco. We spent a lot of time in the water and it was fun. Toward the end of our stay, we decided we’d swim out to the raft in the middle of the bay. Now, neither of us could swim all that well, so we decided we’d swim alongside the big rope that keep the raft in place. I don’t remember how long it took us to get there and back, but John’s back and shoulders were baked to a hot and sore doneness.

          I’d also developed a problem. Somehow mosquitos were getting into our cottage. The windows were all screened, but every morning I had new bites that itched like the devil. The day before we were to leave, we realized there was a chimney in the bathroom that you couldn’t see unless you stood on the toilet that allowed for fresh air and it wasn’t screened. With one more night to sleep there, I counted 45 mosquito bites just on my left leg. The rest of my body was covered. One good outcome of this experience is that mosquitos never bit me again. I do get maybe one or two the last couple of years, but I enjoy scratching them a lot.

          So, for the last few nights, we made use of both the twin beds. John didn’t want me to touch his back because it was so sore. I didn’t want him to touch almost any part of me because I itched so bad.

          Back in Mexico City, we stayed in the same wonderful hotel except this time we had a double or king-sized bed. We were there only for the night, but once again John tried to figure out how he could steal our room key. It would have made a nice wall mounted piece of art.

          I’ve looked back at the photo album and found very few actual pictures. Most are in black and white and we are very small. I also tried to find the name of the hotels, but after 53 years, I’m sure they’ve either been rebuilt or renamed. So, no photos today.

          Amazingly (to me), once we got back to Tijuana, our car was still there with all four tires and an engine. We got in and headed for the United States. Barely across the border, we stopped for gas. Also, back then, the gas station attendants checked everything. This one raised the hood and afterward said, “You guys must be newlyweds.” I was surprised because I was sure our “newness” had to have worn off. I asked how he could tell and he responded the engine compartment was filled with rice. John’s buddies apparently hadn’t missed anything when it came to decorating the car.

          Our next stop was a hamburger place. Again, I’ve never tasted anything quite as good as that hamburger, French fries and milkshake. That was our last indulgence because we were getting low on money. Yes, we still had a gas card to get us home, but actual funds were in short supply.

          That’s when John decided I needed to do some of the driving. He didn’t like the way I drove…he was a professional, after all…so, he critiqued everything I did. I actually didn’t mind because I wanted to be a good driver, plus, it came in handy when Haley and I went to Glacier National Park a couple years ago. I was able to teach her about passing, curves, etc., just like her grandpa had taught me.

          Back home by Sunday, family and friends came to our apartment to watch us open our gifts. It was such fun taking turns and oohing and aahing over the various items we received. When it was time to do thank-you notes, John even helped with those.

          Then, it was on to our real married life. We didn’t stay long in that apartment. The couple that introduced us told us about a house in Ballard just a door or so away from theirs. I’ve some good stories and funny memories of then I’ll share as well as I continue to make these posts.