Up, but not away quite yet

Happy St Paddy's and no, we're not on our way home to the overserved and underwarmed northeast US. But good catch, oh steel-trap minded blogamaniacs! You are correct, we were slated to reverse our contra-caravan so, I guess just caravan, north, albeit with no apparent gang affiliation, this very day along with AJ, who, graciously, spent a hunk of his puny and precious vacay time with us this past week, but we're still here. Physically, anyway, for another nine, count 'em nine days. We made the decision some time back that, with a number of Casa 9 “deliverables” still teetering on the cusp along with the prospect of packing-up-the-house, such as it is, -mania impinging on AJ’s concise visit, we’d rebook to the 26th. I know, we didn’t tell you in the previous posting and for that we humbly ask your pardon.  And what, my deeply committed friends and fam as well the odd, how did you get in here, FB creeper, is our present mental disposition at this vague but pivotal juncture of our waning adventure, you may well be asking yourselves. Well, you may as well ask yourselves because we’re not answering that question. Not, that is, till we attend to that old taskmaster, chronology!
 
 
So, this last hurrah, final push, denouement , coda of phase one of “the Adventure” was preceded by a much anticipated and, we’ll admit, a tad worried-over visit from AJ. He was arriving in Mexico City on Tuesday and flying out Sunday. Now he doesn’t get a lot of time off and it was going to be his birthday while he was here so we were facing a long haul cum short skid scenario of which we wanted to make the most.  How would we accomplish that, you ask. Planning, my friends, precise planning. A quick hits of Mexico City followed by San Miguel food, golf, sun, pool, rooftops, did we mention food?
 
Our plan then was to start the week by taking the 3-4 hour, depending on time of day, day of week, week of month, month of year, Premira Plus 10:00am bus on Monday morning from San Miguel’s Estaciòn Central de Autobuses into Mexico City’s Terminal Norte, then grab a cab to a very handsome boutique hotel in the Juarez colonia, Stara Hamburgo, that was run by our neighbor and role model Lucia Liceaga’s friend Sandy. We’d stay there for two nights while AJ would stay for one. Jackie would don her Source-er’s disguise and scope muebles in the capital on Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning before the hijo arrived Tuesday afternoon upon which time we’d spirit him off to Coyaocàn to experience Casa Azul and Trotsky’s House and Diego Rivera’s Studio before sampling the first of a host of fabulous CDMX restaurants like Pasillo de Humo (oaxacan) and Azul Condesa (oh, that Tortilla Soup!) and then we’d all head back to SMA on the comfortable Primera Plus 5:40pm bus on miercoles where he’d spend four chill days as the first non-me&Jackie to experience the new family set-up and we'd relax the hell out of him. Brilliant, yes?
 
Ok, I can tell what you’re thinking but Monday Morning Quarterbacking isn’t really constructive at this point so please put it away. One thing we had neglected to take into account was that Mexico City has 22 million inhabitants and 9 million vehicles on the streets at any one time. While we did make it to Coyoacàn for a quick sprint around Frida’s house with about three hundred of her biggest fans before it closed and managed a couple of wonderful meals and a greener than green park or two, about three quarters of our time there was spent in Ubers luxuriating in tear-out-your-hair-if-you-still possess-any Mexico City traffic. The relatively serene Terminal Norte of  early Monday afternoon was packed and tense on Weds evening and the four and half hour bus ride north was not the chill introduction to SMA we had envisioned for our harried NYC journalist.

Lesson to be learned when visiting amazingly handsome, dynamic, delicious and gorgeous park-infested CDMX: Pick a neighborhood and explore it on foot for several days, only taking to cabs and preferably ubers to other colonias early and late in the day.You’re welcome!
 
Despite the somewhat fraught and draining opening day and half in the capital city and a limited time away looming, our first-born first visitor to the SMA adventure project was able to partake of some of the charms of my namesake saint's town and, in the process, we rediscovered them too. Like El Charco Del Ingenio Botanic Gardens that sit in the hills just above our Rincon and offer a beautiful walk, some amazing views and bizarre cactus. Plus he worked on his tan and his handicap with what he says was the fastest 18 holes he'd ever played at the nearby impeccable Ventana club de golf. He even did us the honor of braving the, shall we say bracing and I do mean plunge Casa 9 pool before treking down to centro for a classic SMA meal. He, of course, brought us something too, not only a wonderful vibe of family and home we were sorely in need of, but didn't know it, but also a bit of break-through luck on the it-will-never-be-cleared-before-they-go back punchlist, dear schedenfreuders. Oh yes!

For we now, after five long weeks of Lucy pulling the football away from Charlie Brown Telmex promises of internet connection, a lone installer arrived yesterday while we were deep in AJ’s birthday celebrations over a lunch at the glamorous The Restaurant in Centro on Diez y Solano, about 1.2 miles from the Rincon. We had ignored last night’s 15th straight notice of their cross-their-corporate-hearts promised arrival within 72 hours to fo'sure install so for Chrissake don’t leave your home. We had settled into the reflex of knowing if by some wormhole an installer actually did appear, confused, questioning and disoriented at Casa 9 after all these weeks, there were always hordes of unregulated, non-unionized, and seriously un-OSHA-ed workers to let them in. Except on Saturdays, of course, when there are none of the ample build-it-tear-it-down-build-it-again craftsmen at hand. When I got the call from both the contractor, Valente and the Property Manager, Manolo that TELMEX WAS AT THE RINCON, I had just finished a lovely lunch that I had to put in immediate jeopardy as I left Jackie and AJ at the table to run the 1.2 miles and throw my body in front of this phantom Telmex installer’s little white van, if needs be, to get him to stay!  Did I make it? Was the broadband of Gunajuato curse broken? Testament to the success of my altercocker one sixteenth marathon is that this posting is the first in some 5 weeks delivered via home WIFI.  Halefrigginluia!
 
Another bright light in a week that started in a dark mood, was the lovely surprise of our let’s get to it landscaper, Sarai Guzman. When the three intrepid Mexico City traffic victims stumbled across the threshold of Casa 9 at 10:30 Weds night, we were confronted with an amazing array of fruit an olive trees, palms, more bizarre succulents than you could imagine, birds of paradise, bougainvillea, jasmine and more giant terra-cotta pots than a Beckett festival!  As we retired exhausted in our new starting to feel like home, a visit from family and the promise of an amazing garden allowed that perhaps as the horizon appears, things were looking up! We even had some rain for the first time this calendar year last night as we walked back from a lovely birthday dinner at the top of Trazo 1810.
 
Ok, OK! Totally out of character, sorry. I won’t get carried away here. We’re still nowhere with our water system or Pergola, still surrounded by 6 houses in varied states of Hiroshima level dust-cloud producing construction, still finding barely wound electrical tape as the finish of choice on light fixtures, still looking for Girlscout! 
 
So, after a whirlwind five and a fraction days en Los Estado Unidos de Mexico, AJ's winging, if you can apply that somewhat glamorous predicate to flying Jet Blue, his way back to Murray Hill, as we settle-down to another baker’s semana in the relentlessly lovely and clement Obraje colonia of SMA.  One more shot at trying to kill the punchlist and set our minds at ease before we leave our marvellously frustratingly remarkable home in Mexcio in the hands of others till we return for phase two. Stay-tuned, oh faithful followers of our extranjero follies, as the finale of our grand Mexican Adventure approaches.