(if I knew how to put in the upside-down exclamation mark in the front of the title, I would have).
While the rest of my feed reader is filled with snow storms, drenching rain, and other unpleasant weather phenomena, this particular post (if you are one of the lucky twelve people who do, in fact, subscribe to my blog) will fill yours with photos of the 80 degree weather of Puerto Vallarta in the wintertime, full of sunshine, smooth seas, and (unfortunately) me drinking large but non-alcoholic beverages.
J and I left LA to drown itself- it had been pouring here for the last week, non-stop, drip drip drip, if I wanted this, I would have stayed in Seattle sort of rain, so hopping on a plane, while not usually my favorite activity, was pretty much the highlight of my Thursday. As was packing a pair of flip flops in my carry-on, and actually placing them on my feet, a short 3 hours later.
We spent the week eating, though at significantly less food trucks than we would have normally, what with the fetus on board, drinking, though, AGAIN, I was more virgin-pina-colada than 87-Coronas, and laying about on the beach, reading trashy novels and refusing, with rapidly diminishing amounts of politeness, the braids, massages, crafts, pipes, and cowboys hats we were offered.
We took a snorkelling trip to Los Arcos to see the pelicans in their nesting grounds and to swim with the tropical fish. I wish there was a better way to show you what it’s like to find yourself in the middle of countless fish (thanks, Captain Heather on Flickr, for the picture), but take my word for it, it was AWESOME.
And finally, we hiked up the hills of old Puerto Vallarta in search of an off-the-beaten-path restaurant, which we disregarded for a return to Panchos Takos (for the second night in a row) and a heaping plate of tacos al pastor. In searching for these locally, it would appear that I have to drive to East LA.
And seriously, she really does exist:
Thanks for the best honeymoon a girl could ask for.