The Port of Wal-Mart

Yesterday, we reached our first port in beautiful, sunny Puerto Vallarta. Or, how many cruisers might have said, “The Port of Wal-Mart.”

And by that I mean that Puerto Vallarta has a Wal-Mart very close to the cruise ship port.

Prior to disembarking, I had many conversations that went like this:

Person: “Are you leaving the ship in Mexico?”
Me: “Yes, I’m going hiking.”
Person: “Oh. Well we’re going to Wal-Mart.”

Of course, I’m certain that this is NOT a regular port activity. Puerto Vallarta is an incredible spot and offers some of Mexico’s finest dining, shopping and resorts.

Given that we are on a 23-day cruise, it’s actually quite convenient to have a Wal-Mart at our first port of call to pick up a few things before over a week at sea.

Nevertheless, I still found it quite humorous. Especially when a woman over the age of 75 told me she needed to get more underwear.

I think it should be offered as a shore excursion on any long cruise that hits Puerto Vallarta.

While I actually could have used more pajamas, I spent my day hiking instead. It was hotter than Hades outside, but I got a few great photos and a free Spanish lesson since our guide explained everything to me personally in Spanish after he went over it in English. Plus, I ended up meeting a woman named Sherri from Chicago who had worked with my mother’s colleagues prior to retirement. What a small world we live in sometimes! She was kind enough to invite me to lunch and shopping with her friend, Peggy.

After asking several residents about where to lunch (and having them all suggest Señor Frogs, which led me to believe they were all promoters since we have like, a million of them in the States) we found a spot away from the main tourist drag called PiPi’s.

While the wait staff spoke English, we were the only non-native Spanish speakers in the whole place. Guacamole was prepared fresh tableside while a guitar player gleefully danced about the old-style café.

Since giant lettering on the walls suggested to not waste water but drink margaritas instead “to protect the environment” according to our waiter, we had to order a few.

For $10 a drink, I wasn’t expecting to get an entire LITER – that was by no means watered down – but I’m glad I helped protect the environment.

After giving us mushroom chicken quesadillas on the house, I could barely eat my steak fajitas even though they were outstanding. When they split our checks, I wasn’t charged because the staff thought I had hated my lunch. No matter how much I persisted, they refused to charge me. While I left a nice tip, I was left stunned at their outstanding level of customer service.

(Let’s forget about the part a few hours later when one of my dinner partners, an older single gentleman, suggested that I was perhaps being hit on because I spoke Spanish with the entire wait staff. Who just so happened to be younger, attractive men. I can assure you this was not the case.)

Once I tried on several rings each costing more than the entire trip at a jewelry store so that I could get free Wi-Fi, Sherri realized that she needed a new battery for her camera. We enlisted a cab driver who took us to RadioShack, but with no luck. I also learned how to say RadioShack in Spanish. (Hint: It’s RadioShack.)

After a hearty plate of pasta at dinner, I went back to my cabin in anticipation of the Mexican Fiesta deck party at 10:30 P.M. Unfortunately, the next thing I knew it was 8 A.M. and all of the lights were still on. Guess I needed a dormir.