Years ago, a British friend, encountering me after one of life’s inevitable missteps, exclaimed, “Tom, you have landed butter-side up!” He meant that I seemed to have recovered well. I’ve been fond of the expression ever since.

The same can be said of the Puerto Vallarta crisis described in the previous post. Here’s the story:

Lupita emailed a day ago. There was a sense of pride in her language. “I have found a villa in the same location for the same price,” she said. “Three bedrooms. Photo attached.”

A villa? Merriam-Webster defines a villa as “a detached or semidetached urban residence with yard and garden space.” And the photo (above) only bent the definition a little: an apartment with a patio overlooking a pool (palm trees, blue agave plants, cerveza in the fridge), and beyond that, the Pacific (sandy beaches, warm saltwater, cerveza on tap).

With three bedrooms and a gourmet kitchen, the villa is a far more luxurious place than the one we had reserved before, but the price is the same. Did Lupita take pity on us and pull a few strings?

Who cares? The villa is grand! Our deposit has been applied to its rent. We’ve landed butter side up.

And now I can give credit where credit is due: If you ever want to rent or buy in Puerto Vallarta, call our “Lupita.” Her name is Brissa Castro and she works for Casa Noble Real Estate. Just click on the link and tell her Tom and Louise sent you.

She knows who we are.