The Beach (or lack thereof) part 1

Tuesday morning, Alma and I got up with the sun to be at the airport early enough for my 9:00 flight.  We beat the crowd.  After I had checked my luggage, we sat and waited.  Jair and his sister Nadia showed up next, after about 15 minutes.  Their mom and sister were in tow to send them on their way.  They got checked in and then in came Liliana, Renato, and Lili's aunt Adriana.  Adriana was tall and blonde-ish (for a Mexican), and had a very laid back, calm way about her.  I'm struggling to find the appropriate word.  At any rate, she was not chatty or bubbly like my aunts.  I'm not saying this in a negative way; I just wasn't sure what to expect from a stranger (with 3 strange new guests for her house and 11 more to come later in the week), especially at that hour of the morning.

By the time they got checked in, it was definitely time to get going to the waiting room upstairs.  The airport in Culiacán is very small.  Combined with Mexican culture, this means that at the airport, the waiting room is full of people until the very last minute.

We boarded the plane.  I was on one side of the plane in aisle 2.  The other 5 were on the other side in aisles 4 and 5.  Which is probably really good so I didn't feel pressure to chat.  I was asleep before the safety speech was completed.  I woke up after the (apparently) very bumpy landing.  I was clueless.  I got lots of laughs from my buddies for my pillow, my yawns, and my ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat.  

We waited outside in the taxi area for at least 20 minutes.  Taxis came and taxis went.  Travelers came and travelers went.  I was beginning to wonder what was up, but I kept it to myself!  I had heard at one point that once in Guadalajara, we were still 3 hours from the beach (this would've been nice to know going into the trip, but ni modo), so I figured we were waiting on a taxi that would take us to the bus station.

Finally, a white van pulls up and we all walk over to it.  Either I didn't hear the instructions, or we all just knew to go.  Aunt Adriana started talking to the driver.  I assumed she was working out payment, etc.  We get in the van.  We ride through Guadalajara.  Adriana asks if we can stop for tortas ahogadas (basically pulled BBQ sandwiches with a sauce over them that makes the bread soft), a meal supposedly created in Guadalajara.  We were hungry, so the driver obliged.  After 15 minutes, we realized we had been going in the opposite direction of said tortas, so we turned around.  Upon seeing the place, we realized it was closed.

Plan B.

We stopped at a taco stand.  Adriana wasn't having it, so we went into an actual restaurant.

It was yummy.  I ended up having a torta anyway, even though it wasn't ahogada.  It was delicious and filling.  After, I satisfied my sweet tooth with some chocolate from the Oxxo.

As we got back into the van, I realized we weren't going to the bus station; this van would take us all the way to Manzanillo.  It wasn't until much later in the week that I realized the van was from the hotel.  That Adriana's boyfriend was the owner/manager of a hotel and had sent one of "his men" to pick us up.  We had a chauffeur!  Living.  Large.