We are here scoping out a place to spend next winter, after our European adventure. We hope to land here just about one year from now, in October 2013.
We have met quite a few ex-pats just by wandering around the old city, known as the Zona Romantica. (That being an exaggeration.) Just gape at a map, and they come up to talk, to help, to exchange stories. Lots of older men, and a few younger ones who may very well be on the run. They all know of apartments to rent and have favorite restaurants to tout. One young man in an Oregon teeshirt actually turned out to own a building, which he showed us. They all tell us it’s paradise, they just love it here. Of course, the ones who don’t love it are not here.
And about three of them told us that they have given up more profitable lives in the US, but have found themselves much happier here with less money and more tranquility. They also love the drama of the weather. The rainy season is in the summer, with thunder and lightning and great crashing, thundering rain. The drama! It makes Oregon rain feel like kissing your sister.
But we are not here to meet other ’muricans. I am blithering away in Spanish and Tom is doing well too. Today he mastered miercoles because that is the name of today (Wednesday). (He has known how to say “Beer, please!” for years.)
Looks like it won’t be all that hard to find a place to live. It’s just got to have a/c, w/d, wifi, a swimming pool, and an ocean view. It seems like a lot to ask, but when the temperature is 92 and the air is viciously damp, our clever collection of drip dry clothes just keeps dripping and dripping, as do we. The dollar goes a long way here. Something will come up.