Tag: DOGS

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SO FUCKING LOW. LAST DAY IN PUNTA ALLEN CRYING ALL DAY.

OR, OVER A YEAR AGO “THIS IS REALLY HARD MY HOLIDAY ROMANCE WITH SWIMMING DOG IS OVER.”

TODAY.

Getting into food again after my month-long tummy problems

It’s now more or less one year since I left Punta Allen and my doggy. I’m still homesick for it all there but checked online and the prices are huge in Punta Allen Mexico at the moment. I’ll still to my Turkey plan for the moment. Plans are swooping in and out of my life at the moment as the political climate changes in a heartbeat worldwide and I don’t want to make a mistake and have to come home again. I want another long-term stay somewhere and Turkey so my present baby.

Lost my Turkey cap so am going forward with the Vietnam one!!

Turkey will nourish my soul for huge swathes of archaeological sites and magnificent countryside, that I have not yet visited. It will offer me fabulous food and incredible vistas, I will look into possibilities of living there to grow my veg and make my art. I will generally get back to my wandering ways and hopefully regain some lost confidence.

So a brief look over my shoulder to the last place I was truly happy, then onwards and upwards to pastures new. Come on old birds let’s rock it again.

A YEAR AGO FROM THE JOURNAL

Alert: Nostalgia and crybaby form most of this post. If you can’t be arsed with a grown woman and a tough old cookie at that, boohooing over a dog just look at the pics!!

Alkidas ears flapping in the breeze.

My dear old birds this is why you keep moving because if you stay a while anywhere, you form attachments. I am so down it’s beyond belief. The weather isn’t helping nor are the dogs, especially Alkida, who is blissfully unaware of my departure. I’m down, really down. It’s ridiculous I can’t stop crying. Punta Allen has been a huge learning curve and these hounds have been my best friends (apart from Sonia of course).

Very naughty swimming dog on my fresh sheets
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WORKING IN REMOTE PLACES. REALLY HARD!

OR, GETTING BACK TO THE BASICS.

Alert: Another post from a year ago in Mexicos’ Punta Allen. Just shows the completely different and happy lifestyle I had over there in comparison to being in London. My moaning about the trivial was so insignificant in comparison to what I’m encountering here. I rectified the photo problem so I have now put the proper photos in. What a palaver!

On the pier at Punta Allen

Alert: Yesterday capped it all. Went to a restaurant for a humble salad and went to turn my phone on and nada. Blank screen kaput. I’d noticed a small chip in the top corner but surely that couldn’t be it? I’ve seen people with completely smashed screens happily continuing to use them. WTF?! More bad luck? Alkida and I eyed each other, she knew something was up. She looked away hurriedly as dogs do when something is amiss. I am proud to say I, although ready to scream and cry, planned rather than leaving here and going straight to bloody Cancun, and just to put my SIM into my Mexican phone which rather ruined my off-grid plans (tell you later) I asked two very unhelpful people (Utopia comes with its selfish bastards too) then went to my room calmly ready to use iPad and see if I could change me SIMS. In the darkness of the room, I saw a faint background pic on it. Crouching in a dark corner I could just about make out settings and then screen brightness. Boom! All good and I became cautiously optimistic that I could hopefully continue here. Previously I would have wept like a baby but this time I handled it with steely determination. I’m very proud of myself that I’m developing into an even tougher old bird. I still have the photos problem so in this post you will see rather random references til I pull the rein in on these constant phone issues. Bear with me x

I love Punta Allen don’t get me wrong. I’m coming out of a very bad space that only solo travellers know about. I made the huge gamble of booking down here for a month and the very next day of having arrived major works are being done on the villages the main generator. Five fucking days. It’s meant that in my hotel the owner is only prepared to put on his generator from four till midnight. Nothing till four. I am an old bird who loves to rise early and do my writing then, while fresh. I am not a night owl. This has meant all my devices have depleted their batteries by around ten. I’ve made a deal with the restaurant oh so aptly named “Be Fucking Nice” and they have put on their generator which means I can charge AND write AND update work all the time. This new arrangement along with my paying some credit by card so I have money behind the bar. This means I won’t have a cash problem and if their WiFi isn’t working for their card machine they just can take money from what I have put in the kitty. The relief is massive. The whole reason I came here, was to write and edit photos for my blogs and a book I want to put together. The occasional party is great but it’s not my raison d’etre for this retreat. This kind of problem is normal, it happens in Tulum too to a lesser degree and it’s very frustrating.

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RAMBLING IN THE RAIN AND WET DOGS: STRAIGHT FROM MY JOURNAL.

OR, THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS A FRAGRANT WET DOG.

Alert: So just over a year ago, I posted my sad last days in Punta Allen Mexico. A place entrenched deeply in my heart. I had collected a group of dogs and was getting more and more crazy old bitch, rather than an old bird. Never bored or homesick I felt deep contentment. I have been considering going back as it was the only place I was ever really happy since all the craziness began so please have a look at it and see what you reckon

From my Journal

Can’t believe it’s Wednesday, June 9, 2021, and Sunday I’m due to leave PA. One whole month! I’m panicking now about re-entering the real world. Seeing as the weather is getting progressively worse I will just gossip in my journal for you to get the mood of how things are so changeable down here. A little blow by blow of the intricate workings of Roseliz and Punta Allen.

My beach

This morning I went out and took a video of the village walking all around and over to the lagoon where I took that boat tour from, all those weeks ago. As you can see it’s glorious weather again. After I shot the video I had a really lovely breakfast in a small backstreet restaurant. They had put green peppers, ham, onion and cheese in and it came with the usual fajoles. This included coffee that they served with the actual jar of instant and a little jug of cream, a bargain at 90 pesos. It was a delightful little place with shell fly curtains and various bits of art and hammock chairs. It was great to have got off my lardy arse to experience the rest of the pueblo.

Breakfast bar
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DAY TEN. SECOND FRIDAY.

HONEST REPORTS, DAY BY DAY FROM QUARANTINE HOTEL HOLIDAY INN HEATHROW. (SEE DAY NINE HERE)

IN QUARANTINE HOTEL HELL A NEW CRUSHING BLOW, BRUTUS MY SONS BULLDOG BEEN TAKEN INTO HOSPITAL

Brutus says please!

All other news from today has been made irrelevant as I just received a call from my son that Brutus our British Bulldog has been taken into hospital with severe breathing problems. This news is the final straw. This is new torture whilst I’m still not allowed to leave here until one minute past midnight. A day when I felt relatively happy has now developed into a terrible crying jag. I simply feel that the ground I walk on will never be safe again for this is literally the final straw. This wonderful kind magnificent boy is now in peril and only just turned six years of age, young even bulldog standards.

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RAGING STORMS AND BIBLICAL DELUGE AND A MAD OLD DOG LADY.

OR, LITERALLY WERE CUT OFF. THE ROAD WAS CLOSED AND I OFFICIALLY WAS ON A DESERT ISLAND

The last farewell.

You know it’s been raining here more or less non stop? Well now, the day I was supposed to leave, there is a massive storm. I was woken in the night by explosive bangs and flashes and the sound of torrential rain. I went to my door and the display was awe inspiring. I managed a video but really wasn’t concerned about leaving in the morning, surely this Biblical deluge would be spent by eight when my collectivo would pick me up. As I sit here still in my Punta Allen hotel room, with explosives bangs every five seconds or so, I realised that, as usual, I was overly optimistic.

Flooded road.

The wind has also picked up now as well as rumbling. Hurricane coming?