Yelapa, Mexico: Installment 1 in which we establish our hatred of flying and of insects

I am returned to the land of liberals, fog, and good coffee.

Mexico was so amazing that I don't even know where to begin in describing the trip. I'm going to do it over the course of a few days since there is so much to tell.
This whole trip was rather last minute, but it was desperately needed on the part of both Martha and myself. After some spontaneous google searches we came across a small fishing village located 45 minutes (by boat) from Puerto Vallarta. Yelapa. We booked the flights, rented a palapa in a place called Casa de los Sueños, limited ourselves to one bag each, and pointedly refused to plan a damn thing.


We started the trip off right, and travel was entertaining and uneventful.

Upon arrival in Puerto Vallarta, we grabbed a taxi to a small town called Boca del Rio and took the water taxi to Yelapa. The ride was a little choppy and we definitely got wet, but the water was so warm that it hardly mattered. It was hard to believe that we were still on the Pacific Ocean. Clearly the water in Northern California didn't get the memo.

At any rate we made it to Yelapa, and to our little palapa where we would spend the next week murdering hapless insects, honoring frogs, lizards, and snakes, and shamelessly overreacting to anything we touched that could possibly resemble a creature with more than four legs (hair, purse strap, plant, bathing suit strap, each other, sarong, everything, etc.).

We wasted no time in finding a market and purchasing some staples: beer and cookies. After this essential task was completed, we fell into bed and rested up for the big day ahead of us.