Early Thursday morning I am flying out for a much needed holiday from work and normal life. Off to do some yoga with my boo Willis in San Miguel de Allende. So excited.
As you may already know, I moved to Vallarta almost sight unseen. I did spend a winter here, yes, in 2003, but I spent most of my time in the marina on my boat, with boat people. I rarely left the marina. I learned the inner workings of deep frying a turkey on the fuel dock in that marina. I scrubbed boat bottoms, I re-did upholstery, I changed the oil and I changed the sails in that marina. I’ve been sent up so many masts that I lost count in that marina. My one trip “into town” was to go to Pipi’s (restaurant), which a lot of locals know, in El Centro. I never walked the Malecon before it was re-done, I never saw Los Muertos pier as it was before we know it now. I really never knew this part of town that I live in now. But I knew I loved Vallarta. I just knew.
Because every. Single. Time. I have flown into this place, or sailed into this place, or driven into this place, I have been overcome with emotion. I shed a tear, almost every time. And when I don’t, I get butterflies in my stomach. I have a visceral reaction to being here. I have always been in love with this place, and I don’t even really know why. Vallarta is my Latin lover, it is deep in my heart pocket, deep in my soul… this town… I might not live here forever, but I will love it until the day I die.
Without fail, for the 48 or so hours before I leave here, I feel the need to visit all of my favorite places. Hug the people there. Spend an extra moment with them. And I always feel compelled to tell them I am leaving and when I will be back.
I see that they don’t really care, as much as I care to tell them. But my mama taught me to tell someone you love, when you’re going somewhere, so maybe that’s why I feel compelled to say goodbye. Tell them I’m leaving, but I’m coming back, because they’re too hard to stay away from. Because maybe I love them too, somehow.
Always when I come back, of course I have to go to all those same places and tell them I’m back and I missed them and I bought them this dumb thing that says “Mexico” on it and it of course means nothing to them at all because they are from here and they know where they can buy the thing (if they ever actually wanted it) a mere 50 yards from any given place that we are standing. But they smile and thank me for the fridge magnet, and we have another hug I look deep into their eyes and tell them I missed them and I’m so glad to be home.
And I mean it, from the bottom of my heart, every single time. I missed you. I’m so glad to be home.
I love you Vallarta. I can’t wait to get the hell away from you, and I already can’t wait to come back.
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