Life on the water

We are now anchored in Nieuwegein for the night, after spending one more night at the marina. We have basically been backtracking our original route, where we had intended to do a circle clockwise from where we started and will return in Winkeveen, outside Amsterdam. But that has all been changed by the bridges not being in operation. So we spent several days back and forth between the marina and Montfoord, and now do not have enough time to continue through Delft, Leiden, Haarlem, possibly Amsterdam and a couple of other stops we'd had in mind if there was time. 

Our new plan: up to Breuklin tomorrow, then Weesp, maybe a foray or two by bus or train to Leiden and perhaps another place. Weesp is between Amsterdam and Vinkeveen, where we have to return the boat and then head to the airport and home. We haven't hit half the places we'd hoped to, and have spent more time in a couple than we'd have liked to. The marina isn't in the town and isn't particularly aesthetic. Then again, we'd not have experienced the wedding at the marina between the Dutch man and the woman from Cameroon. Or the teens  jumping from the bridge in the extreme heat. Or Loring jumping off the boat to swim, as he did daily in the heat, while the wedding goers posing for pictures on the bridge looked when they heard the splash. 

I haven't written much about life on the boat. It's been quite enjoyable, wherever we've been. There's a quiet calm about travelling on the water. Loring, who's responsible for steering, getting us under bridges and through locks, probably wouldn't agree about the calmness. I get to just sit on the bow or up top with Loring and watch the scenes go by.  It's been fascinating to see the homes go by as we motor along. Even the parts we've travelled a few times between the bridges we couldn't pass thru have been enjoyable to observe repeatedly. There's a fair amount of bird life along the canals, mostly ducks of various kinds, some geese, and at the marina, two beautiful black swans. And other songbirds in the trees that I hear more than see. 

The homes, in town and along the canals, are for the most part aesthetically pleasing. They seem to follow a fairly traditional form, although some are more modern with lots of glass and starker designs. It's hard for me to discern from what time period they are. In den Bosch some buildings were so well kept that I assumed they were modern in traditional style. Until I saw the dates, in some cases from the 17th century. They have either been incredibly well kept or restored. 

Everyone waves. People on other boats, people on shore walking their dogs or sitting on their decks. Today a women waved to me from inside her second floor window as we tooled along on the canal. 

 Bicycles. They are the predominant mode of transportation, and you see them everywhere. Sitting in a cafe there's a constant parade of people pedalling by. Some are electric, most are not, many have only one gear. And many of them are carrying more than one passenger. There are many families on bikes, often with a child in back, even more often a bucket in front with one or a couple of children. And lots of fairly young kids riding on their own. And people our age. There are also people riding electric mobility scooters or trikes. They are many more than you'd see at home, and they blend in more with all the other vehicles on wheels. 

And there are many less cars. In some city streets they are not allowed at all, or only delivery trucks and maybe residents are.  There are bike paths everywhere, and walkers need to stay clear of the bicylists. 

When we pass through a bridge and I see the bike and car traffic waiting, I wonder if people are frustrated by being held up by us, like we are by a train at home. Or maybe they just accept it as a natural part of their lives. 

I find living on a boat very appealing. Everything is compact but there is space for everything. We have a double bed and several cabinets in the bedroom at the rear. Then there's the bathroom and several closets and cabinets. Near the front is the kitchen and living area. There's a table and enough seating for at least four, and two cushioned benches that convert into beds that would work great for children. Sink, refrigerator, stove, even an oven. There's a surprising amount of space for clothes, food, etc.  More than in your typical hotel room by far. It's a pleasure to have your possessions with you and not have to cart them from location to location. And there's room fore and aft to sit as well as up above where the steering wheel is. There's a second wheel inside for bad weather, but we haven't had to use it. I imagine that RVers must feel the same kind of pleasure and satisfaction in bringing your accomodations along with you. But to me this seems more appealing because you are on the water, and in a scenic setting.

I'll stop here for today. Time to start a new book. As always, we try to choose literature appropriate to where we are travelling. This time, we have several historical novels, all set in the 17th century. I'm getting a bit tired of those, will try next a novel called the Black Tulip, by  Dumas, author of The Three Muskateers. Don't know if I'll get into it, we'll see. I'll try to write some more about what we've been reading in a future post. 

Stranded!

 Well, nothing has gone quite according to plan on our adventure. As I've said earlier on, the extreme heatwave here has affected our travels seriously. On any trip on the canals here, you are limited by the height of your boat and the height of the multiple bridges you need to pass under or through. Small day boats can pass under many of them. We are neither the smallest nor anywhere near the largest on the waters. At every bridge below the very largest, on the highways, the height is listed on the waterways app, Waterkaarten. Unless there is a person at the bridge full time, one needs to telephone on arrival to request the bridge to open. It's fun, up to a certain point. ( of course I can easily say that as I am not the one piloting the boat. Some bridges will then automatically open. At others you need to wait for the bridge person to come. More than once we've had the same person arrive on bicycle, then move up to open the next bridge.  There are light signals to indicate one can go under if you can clear the bridge, red and green to indicate the bridge is about to open, then green when it's okay to go through. This is complicated by the fact that when you call you get a recording naming a number of bridges and which number to push for each bridge. All in Dutch, of course. But we are getting better at understanding the numbers and the names of the bridges. 

All of this is just prelude to what has left us seriously stranded for days. The bridge that would have let us pass beyond Monfoort and continue on our journey has been inoperable for days due to the extreme heat. So have many other bridges been. So we basically tooled back and forth between Monfoort and  the marina at IJsselstein where there is electricity, showers, water to refillll our tank, and a pumpout for the waste tank, all important. We are not really using electricity for much, except the refrigerator, but it wouldn't be fun to not have cold drinks, especially during the heat wave. And we do have other food requiring refrigeration, like yogurt, cheese, butter. 

So our plan changed out of necessity. The distances by road here are actually much shorter, though not as scenic or pleasant. So we took busses from Montfoord to different towns on two days, to Ouldewater one day, and to Gouda on another. Gouda, the famous cheese town, had been on our itinerary. We would probably just have passed through Oudewater on our original plan. It is actually a quite pleasant town, lots of typical architecture, small canals, and a history of witches that the town capitalizes on, of course. The people immediately reacted when we mentioned we were from the city next to Salem, MA. The man noticed Loring's t shirt from the Salem film festival, which Loring hadn't even realized he was wearing.  The small museum was originally a weighing house, and the original large scale was still there. 

It turns out that Oudewater was known for its tolerance, and that women accused of witchcraft went there to prove their innocence by being weighed. Witches were supposed to be very light in weight, which enabled them to fly. If you were heavy enough you weren't a witch and would be issued a certificate to say so. Now, visitors can get on the scale to be weighed and are then issued a certificate to say they weren't a witch. So we both now are certified as free of witchiness. It was all done with equal measures of seriousness and tongue-in-cheekness. 

I tried to explain there are people in Salem and elsewhere today that consider themselves witches, or Wiccans, but that they use their powers for good. I don't think they really believed me. And in the back of my mind I kept hearing Glinda's question of "are you a good witch or a bad witch?"

Gouda, our next destination by bus, was a little beyond Oudewater, but only about a half hour from Montfoord. It's a tourist town, for sure, with lots of cheese shops and also siropwafels,  the other food for which the town is famous. They are waffle cookies with a caramel like layer sandwiched between two cookies. At about 10am the town was remarkably quiet, but within an hour or two many more people were on the streets, both visitors and locals. Thursdays are the days when the cheese market takes place, and I am sure it's much more crowded then. From what I've seen and read it's somewhat of a ritualistic and touristic event, but also a real market that has been taking place for centuries. There's some kind of slapping that goes along with people purchasing the huge cheese wheels, which I haven't quite figured out. I'm not sure if I'm happy or sad that we missed the market day. 

Gouda has a church that is the longest church in the country, 123  meters and lined with impressive stained glass windows  ranging from the 16th century up to nearly the present. One from 1945 depicted concentration camp survivors in one panel of a window depicting victory. Another one showed the defeat of tyranny in a much older century. During WWII the panels of the old windows were dissassembled, stored in wooden crates in various places, and reinstalled after the war. The church had originally been Catholic, but then became Protestant, and still is. I don't know how common that is, I hadn't heard about anything like that before. But then there's a lot about religion that I don't understand. I'll have to check with AI. 

We had bought a combined ticket for the church and the town museum, as the person at the church had suggested. But when we got to the museum, we discovered that it's closed on Mondays. Luckily the church was just around the corner, so we went back. The woman was apologetic and they promptly refunded our money. I think she was new and/or didn't realize the museum was closed that day. Too bad, as I realized later that the museum has a wonderful tile collection. The town of Delft, which I'd hoped to  go to, is famous for its blue and white tile and ceramics. But in fact it was also produced in Gouda, and, I think, a few other nearby towns.

Just as we were strolling through town and Loring mentioned that he didn't mind sitting and reading when we didn't have a particular agenda, I spotted a second hand clothing store. I mean literally at the same moment. So, he spent probably a half hour sitting and reading while I found several appealing and very reasonable pieces of clothing. One from the three euro bin, which I am wearing right now. 

Hot days on the water

 We a

re currently anchored at a marina in IJstellstein, where we spent last night. This was not in the plan, tentative though it's been. The day before we'd left Maarssen for Montfoord, going under and through numerous bridges and a lock or two. We spent the night there, in a charming smalll town, stocked up on groceriess, cooked dinner on the boat. But....

Well the heat wave that's hit Europe has created the highest temperatures ever recorded in the Netherlands. One effect that has directly affected us is that the low bridge in the town, which we would need opened to pass through, is stuck closed due to the heat. Yesterday it hit 100 F. So we decided to backtrack an hour or so to where we are now.

The bridge is still closed, as are many others. It's good that we've been somewhat flexible in our plans, and do not have a set series of destinations. But there are towns that we definitely want to visit, including Gouda, Delft, and Leiden. Gouda, famous for its cheese (the correct pronunciation is Chowda, with a gutteral ch, or just Howda for those of us who can't do the gutteral sound. It doesn't exist in English, but does in Hebrew and other languages like Arabic.) That's probably why I can pronounce it and Loring and most Americans can't. By the way, this sound is also the proper pronunciation of van Gogh, with end sound the same gutteral. So if you want to impress people, or, more likely, amuse them try pronouncing the cheese or the painter with the hard ch sound next time the subject comes up. 

So here we are at this marina, not sure there even is a town here. One good thing is that they have showers here, and toilets, and a restaurant. We do have a shower, or at least a showerhead, onboard, but we haven't yet used it. It seems that it will flood the entire bathroom, which probably isn't a terrible thing. But with the heat, I've just been having Loring dump buckets of water from the canal over my head. And he has just been jumping in the water at every opportunity. I would probably go in the water too if I had a way to get out. The bottom rung on our boat's ladder is too high for me, nearly too high for Loring to hoist himself out. 

One source of entertainment while we've been docked here is watching people jump from  the bridge. This is one of the high ones that many, but not all boats can pass under. It's about 15 feet high. Every bridge's height is indicated on the boating app, and also every boat's height is written on it. Ours is about 8 and a half feet at the height of the upper deck and steering wheel. All afternoon yesterday a group of teenagers, mostly boys, jumped repeatedly into the water. Once, the adults staying in the camper right next to us(there are folks camping here as well as boaters) people probably in their 30s, jumped in as well. They are here in two campers, a younger and and an older couple, I am guessing the parents of one of the younger one. 

I wonder how much people normally jump in or even just go in the water, and how much is due to the extreme heat. 

And there's a fairly constant parade of boats in the canal, of all sizes. Some with couples, some with families, some with groups of young adults and lots of beer. Everyone is very friendly, nearly everyone waves or says hi as they pass by. There are periodically people on paddleboards. But we've seen nearly no one in a kayak or a canoe. 

Everyone we've come across is Dutch. They speak to us in Dutch, which makes me glad that we don't stick out as tourists.  And everyone speaks English, very good English.

Our boat is labelled on the side, with their slogan of No license necessary, no experience necessary. Which does make me feel branded as a novice. 

Today we will go back to Monfoort, on our original path, although we don't think the bridge is open. There's no practical other route by boat to Gouda. Most likely we will stay there again tonight, and with luck the bridge will be open tomorrow. The heat is finally supposed to subside by then. We are wondering if there will be a backup of boats waiting to go through. 

Alternately, there's the land route. If necessary we could go by bus or uber from Montfoord to Gouda.  But that takes all the fun out of it. 

Two delightful days in Marssen.

 We tied up in the center of the town. Both sides of the canal were lined with beautiful and meticulously maintained houses, and some estates. Our Other boats were on either side of us. Most everyone we've met, on the streets, in shops, on the water, are Dutch. But the folks docked next to us, in a boat much bigger than ours, were American. We asked where they were from, and they said Florida, and New York. But they had sold their house to buy the boat, and spent several months of the year on it.  When we came back from dinner, in a cafe on the other side of the canal, they invited us aboard for a drink. But I was exhausted and begged out. The next morning they were gone. I would have loved to know more about their lifestyle, where they spent the rest of the year, where they left the boat when they weren't on it, etc. But never got to ask. Oh well. 

They were one of the very few Americans we've run into.

Our dinner at the cafe had been more appetizers than dinner, all fried foods, as the waiter had explained . He said most restaurants were  closed Mondays and Tuesdays, because there wasn't enough business. And they only served the fried foods. I had a limoncello spritz, and Loring has been drinking gin and tonic because they don't seem to be familiar with martinis except as a canned pre mixed drink, which they didn't have.

Our full day in Marrssen we actually spent in Utrecht. It's a two bus ride from Marrssen, which we managed to mostly handle. You needed to pay by credit card and use a different card for each person. I am not sure why. And you need to check out when you leave or you are subject to a fine. Thexdrivers were very accommodating when our second card, an amex, didn't work, and just waved us thru, and then we snuck thru the exit gate together. 

Utrecht is the Dutch town I spent time in over 50 years ago. I don't think I ever went beyond the beautiful old city. I remember being able see the famous Dom tower from my friends ' house. What we saw of the old town is still beautiful.  We mostly spent our time at the Central Museum. We are in the middle of a heat wave. More about that later. And so our goal was to spend as much time as possible in an air condoned environment. 

i

Floating visions

 That's what they call the event. Floating Visions: Bosch reimagined.

And this year's theme is Powered by Defects. Ok. And some exerpts from the program:

"Defects can be found everywhere, poverty, unrisen cakes, badly dressed carnival goers, long term illness."

 I get the point but it's a rather odd conglamoration of examples. Of which those are only a few. 

The first float are the heralds announcing the parade.  And the defects in all of our lives. We of course didn't understand anything. 

Then, the SOS float. The designers collected bottles from patients and staff at a local hospital, and a

 "wish creature" announces  their wishes from a vessel filled with seaweed-like sculptures.

Apparently in Bosch's time sailors in danger would throw bottles with their final cries for help.

I will try to describe a few more of the floats, the ones I liked the best.

Meerklank is a floating barrel with open ends with four people in black black aboard, walking forward to keep the barrel rolling, It represents moving forward despite flaws, partly submerged and having to move forward to keep from sinking. This one was Loring's favorite, and one  we didn't need to understand any language to appreciate.

Perhaps my favorite was called The lazy curious innovative human. Three women are on individual small platforms linked to one another, drawn by a fourth person in a small float in front. Each has white kitelike wings. They are all different, one is on a ladder. It's quite elegant. The program explains that they are taking on the invincible force of graity, and in doing so lay bare the flaws we all possess. Sometimes it's better not to know the explanation! 

Another elegant float was called Als verlangen dansen. I will have to look up the translation. It was created by a woman intrigued by dancing from childhood, but who suffered an injury at the age of twelve. Now she wants to keep dancing., this time with other women who want to dance despite being burned out, being pregnant, etc. It was another visually appealing one. A half dozen dancers in a variety of black and red attire, on a triangular float intersected by a number of barres.   The float is motored by another half dozen women in the water, all wearing red bathing caps. And two of them perform synchronized swimming moves ahead of the float.

The last one I'll describe is De fanfare van oliedom. "we are all addicted to oil."  " this depicts and sets to music our addictive complacency...and insatiablel greed with a boisterous orchestra." The float is set upon oil drums, with others atop it played as drums. and musicians wearing oil  can funnels as hats, everything painted a bright blue. This float was powered by several people pedaling.  "They hammer their message to the quays. Will it be hellilsh noise or heavenly music?" 

The parade takes an hour. We watched it once in our purchased grandstand seats, and then two days later from an embankment on the other side of the river and further down, giving us a different perspective. 

It was low key and I'd guess almost entirely local and other Dutch people.  I'm glad we finally did it. 

We are now on our boat, docked along a spit of land not too far from where we embarked. We had a lesson from the staff and were on our way. I'll describe the first part of our boat trip as well as the other things we did between the two parades we attended, in my next post. 

First nights in the Netherlands

Our complimentary charcuterie board which i think they call a plank.

 We are in the town of den Bosch in the Netherlands, home of the 17th century painter Hieronymous Bosch. You may be familar with his work. He is best known for his depiction of his cleverly  grotesque scenes of hell and demons, especially the Garden of Earthly Delights tryptich . Until now I thought the town was named for him. It's actually the other way around, as I found out on a visit to his home this morning.  His family name was different. He took the name den Bosch, "from Bosch" which the museum video mentioned was a clever bit of marketing, so that people would know where to find him. 

Let me explain the motivation for this trip. Several years ago I saw a video on fb of the Bosch parade. It was a parade of floats on the river Dommnel in town,  inspired by Bosch's work. In the back of my mind I thought, some day I'd like to go to that. I thought that was four or five years ago, until fb showed me I had posted a video of the parade ten years ago. I guess my concept of time these days  is not very accurate. 

So, seeking inspiration for our next travels, I saw the dates of this year's parade were in late June,just the time I was looking to go. And so, we built a trip based on this funky little parade.  It happens four or five times over the period of three days, a few in the afternoon and a few at 8pm. I decided we should go twice, once in the evening and once in the afternoon. The parade itself is free, but for better viewing you can buy tickets at two different locations along the route. Which I did. 

I;m not sure how  many of the attendees are local and how many from afar. The majority of the people we've seen at the parade and in town are Dutch speaking. We've heard English sporadically, but most of it not Americans. Many visitors speak English, but as a second language, and it's the default language for foreigners. And almost all Dutch people speak good English, in some cases flawless. 

For our trip, the parade was the inspiration, but not the main focus. We decided to rent a boat for two weeks, and will embark on that part of our adventure tomorrow. I had looked for boat trips online, but not bike and barge trips or cruises. I eventuallly came upon sites where you could rent a boat to drive yourselves, and for which you needed neither a license or any experience. 

And so tomorrow we begin the next part of our adventure. We will travel to Vinkeveen, the home base of the Le Boat company, from which we will be renting our Cirrus Two cabin cruiser. After an hour long training we will be off on our own for two weeks, boating to wherever we would like. They provide some potential itineraries, routes and places to stop along the way. But there is no set itinerary. We have some tentative plans of places we would like to visit, but will improvise as we go. I am excited but also a bit nervous; have never done anything like this before. 

So let me tell you about our stay here in den Bosch and the parade. We are at the Golden Tulip Hotel in the center of the old town. It's a charming town and a nice hotel. One problem, however, When we went to check in, they told us that there was a problem with the air conditioning  in the old part of the hotel. It had been broken for a couple of days. They gave us a choice, either the room we'd reserved,which had a view of the main plaza and a small balcony, or another room with air conditioning in the newer part. Oh, and did I mention that we are here in the middle of a hear wave?! It's been in the 90s when typical temperatures are in the 70s.  So, as you might have guessed, we took the air conditioned room. To compensate they gave us a voucher for two drinks and a charcuterie board in the hotel restaurant. And after I asked they said they would also give us a partial refund for the less expensive room. The charcuterie board was impressive, including not just the meats and cheese but also shrimp tempura and fried wontons and some other treats.  As the price on the menu for that was over $25, and then the drinks about $10 each, i guess that was a pretty nice compensation. 

The first night we went to the parade and sat in the grandstand seats we had purchased. One thing, though. We had envisioned a night time performance. But the parade was aat 8pm, and it doesn't get dark until about 10pm. 

The parade was delightful and low key. It's certaninly not a major event in the country, which was fine. I am not sure that all the locals are even aware of it. When we were waiting for the train here from the Amsterdam airport we asked a man on the platform if the train we wanted would be on the track we thought it would be. He said he was also going to den Bosch. I asked if he was going to the parade, and he said no, he was going home.  I don't think he even knew what I was referring to.

So, to the parade. In fact it was unnecessary to buy tickets, although it was nice to sit in the grandstand in seats with backs. The seating was sold out, for all the performances, so I was glad we had purchased them in advance. There were about 17 floats, all lof them except the very last one from the Netherlands. The last one was from France according to the program. The theme this year was "Powered by Defects" although I am not sure anyone would have gleaned that without reading the program. The program describes each float and what it represents in detail, and will attempt to summarize the gist of it in my next post.

Fiestas and Siestas and the Fabian family artisans

 Back at home now, after a pretty uneventful trip back. With one exception. While at the Mexico City airport between flights, a woman came over to me saying, "Joanna? Joanna Liss?"  It took a couple of seconds before I recognized her. It was Natalie Jordan from EF, where I had worked with au pairs and families for a number of years. I see her posts on fb periodically, and knew that she was now a vice president of EF, and the director of the Au Pair program. I was very impressed that she recognized and remembered me. I can't even remember how many years it's been. Loring took a picture of us which she posted on fb. It got a lot of likes. Mostly from people that know her, of course. She knows a lot of people. But I recognized a few names. 

First I wanted to describe our encounter with Norberto Fabian. In the Oaxaca region there are various villages, where people specialize in a particular craft. Some are are weavers. One village has potters who work with black clay.   It is similar to what I found years ago in Peru, certain areas where people made textiles, others where they carved gourds, a city that I stayed in where they made small alter type scenes made out of potato clay.  I am not sure which of these crafts are continuing to be produced by younger generations, but it seems in Oaxaca that they are. You see the alejibres in all the craft shops in the city. 

Our connection with the Fabian  family dates back seven or eight years. We had Norberto and his father Ventura do a presentation at our house for one of our salons. I had arranged it with Nina Hasan, a Boston area woman who had made a short film about the Venturas a while back. She brings the Venturas every year around Day of the Dead and they do presentations at one of the Harvard Museum and elsewhere, aknd sell their creations. We did the same at our house.  Fabian died a few years ago. Norberto now does the carving and his wife does the painting. 

I had assumed they wouldn't be hard to find in the village, but I was wrong. The town was indeed replete with studios of alejibre makers, with signs on their doors. But no evidence of the Fabians. I stopped at one place and asked the person. I assumed everyone would know each other.  Finally, as we were walking around, a man on a motorcycle with a young girl on the back pulled up and asked if he could help us. I told him who we were looking for. He said right away, he's my friend. He pointed us in the right direction and said it was a blue door, and that he'd let Norberto know we were coming. And said he had a studio too, and he hoped we would come visit him afterward. His name was Benito. We walked down the street but saw several blue doors and no sign with the family name. Eventually a man came out from behind a blue door and waved at us. It was Norberto. There was no sign on the door or anywhere. 

Their studio was also their house, which was pretty modest. They had partly finished but unpainted figures on the ground next to a tree, and others in a wheelbarrow and a table with some figures and containers with paint.  We met his wife Blanca, and his mother, Ventura's widow.  They had bags of figures all wrapped and ready for the upcoming market in town, which I believe is weekly. They unwrapped creature after creature. And of course we bought a few, two little ones for the grandkids although they will hopefully go on a high shelf until they are older.  And Loring surprised me for choosing one for us. It happened that we both were drawn to an octopus, done largely in black and white, contrary to most of the figures which are very brightly colored. 

Norberto remembered comig to our house with his father. He continues to come up every late October to early November and do presentations at Harvard, the Museum of Science, and I think at a few other venues, artisan fairs or shops. So perhaps we'll go visit him at one of those places this winter.  Or maybe have him come to our house again, if the timing works out and if there are enough salon attendees who didn't meet him before. 

We did go by Benito's studio, which Norberto had described as "very big." And indeed it was. It was actually a huge showroom, featuring Benito's work as well as that of other members of his family. I wasn't clear on if all the artisans were relatives. There were many rooms, and Benito gave us a tour of them. Some pieces were huge, and museum quality. And very expensive, in the thousands of dollars. 

So, to return to our last days in the city of Oaxaca. We wound up staying at "Up in the Clouds" for the whole six days. It was  pretty hot a couple of the afternoons, but the other days were cooler. If we were at the room mid to late afternoon  a shower really helped alleviate the heat. And most days we took a break from our sightseeing in the afternoon, sitting in a cafe on the Zocalo in the shade, me drinking fresh squeezed lemonade, Loring a beer. It made me realize  the reason for the siesta, not just to take a break from work but to take a break from the heat of the day. Not that it's observed much anymore, where people don't usually work close to home and it isn't practical to go home midday. I guess in the countryside there are places where people are still able to take a break. But I didn't see any evidence of shops or businesses being closed in the middle of the day. Of course, that's also when I was sitting in the shade and sipping lemonade, so perhaps some did. 

As far as fiestas, it seemed that every day we were there, in the city, there was some kind of music or event. The first night, which I previously described, was the most elaborate. But the second night there was also a parade, although much smaller, that we watched from our rooftop abode. There were some large papier mache puppets as well as a brass band. It seemed to be a birthday celebration. 

And the following days and evenings there were brass bands. One day in our walks and between visits to museums we came upon at least four different bands, although we never heard any of them playing, just walking to some destinaation to play. They were wearing military style uniforms but I don't know if they were actually military, and we never discovered what the occasion was.  And then, on our last night, we went to a restaurant on the Zocalo again. We had seen them setting up a tent and stage earlier, and thought we might see some kind of show. There was no performance that night, though,  it must have been for a subsequent day. But, there was a brass band, and lots of people dancing, which was wonderful. They were mostly Mexican, and quite a variety of folks. There was a tall young man in a suit with an older woman who we guessed was his mother or even grandmother. A few very short older men very snazzily dressed and very graceful with their partners And one young couple who had their camera set up on a tripod, no doubt to be posted online before long. They were really hamming it up, rather over the top but they were having fun. It was the perfect last evening of our trip. 

Oh, and if you are wondering, I never did try the grasshoppers,  although I was tempted.  Our last restaurant had an item on the menu that was guacamole with a side of grasshoppers. I kid you not. They, and other restaurants, also had items on their menus with grasshopper sauce!  But I just didn't quite have the nerve or the stomach and didn't want to ruin my appetite for my last meal. Which was delicious, by the way. I was kind of tired of guacamole and tostados. They had crepes on the menu, which were a little thicker than the French version. And filled with chicken and in a green sauce that seemed similar to the green mole we'd had one night, but wasn't described as such on the menu. 

And that brings to an end my Mexican saga. I hope you enjoyed reading about it, and I recommend your visiting, both the beach and the city.