No One Likes a Complainer, Unless That Complainer is Me

Anyone watching my Instagram feed has been drooling with envy as I post gorgeous photo after gorgeous photo of luxurious hotel rooms or my feet posed with various beautiful settings in the distance, a cool drink sweating in the foreground... and rightly you all should, we are having an epic trip. But as with everything, there are the oddities, hassles and inconveniences that everyone encounters while traveling and while we have weathered them well (less stress has made us all less explosive), these disappointments are itching to be shared and I feel it is my job to complain about them to you. What???? You love me for my whining! 

*Trigger warning: in the time of covid, if you can not read this with the humor intended or take the irritation I share with a grain of salt because I know I am, after all, on vacation and you are, in fact, stuck in your house, please do not continue. I swear I will post fun uplifting pieces soon.

My complaining takes us back to Oaxaca City. Hotels made from old Colonial Homes are charming, I fall for it every single time. And since it was the wealthy that owned those homes originally, they also have the best/ most prominent locations so you DO want to stay there, however, the rooms suck. No, no, I know how the house was built and the function of the rooms facing into the inner courtyard was done on purpose, but in modern times, if you are going to squish multiple beds into a room that can not accommodate them, some issues are bound to be had. In our room for example, the door opened into the first bed. "Ahhh the first thing you saw was a bed" you say to yourself. Nope, it opened INTO the bed as in smash, door can't fully open, the bed is there. Next, it's single file to get to the restroom, 3 people definitely was over max capacity for this room. And then, the shower door wouldn't close. Like a bad dream seeping slowly over your day, the door eased its way open until you stood fully exposed, naked and cold. "Michele, this is not that bad, you should have seen my hotel room (or apartment) in NYC" you say, well, I'm about to get pickier, so buckle in! When we first entered the room, I did not like the smell. Ok, yes I do have heighten olfactory senses and I have been known to find issues with spaces that others do not. But this room reeked of death and it was bad enough for Jesse to complain to the front desk. Luckily the staff was amazing and cleaned the entire room with bleach. I sat in the charming common space and tried to bite my tongue. Then the air conditioning didn't work and because this is a charming Colonial Home turned hotel, there are no windows so the only option in the explosive heat, was to have the room doors open to the common space... ya, you're welcome fellow guests for the naked show from the shower. The final, and perhaps biggest grievance was that they had no ice bucket available in order to cool down the white wine or beers for my much needed alcohol reprieve. I'm aware ice is a hot commodity in a warm climate, I was happy to buy it from the OXXO next door, but there was no way to use it, no plug for the whole in the sink, no bucket to be had, no bowl for my use... what were they trying to do, kill me?!? Needless to say, we had to move hotels. The next one had massive amounts of space, a mini fridge with a beautiful husky whisper every time you opened it, expelling a sensual breath into the room that said "drink my cold white wine".

After Oaxaca City, we sadly said goodbye to the incredible staff and pristine solitude of the luxury hotel (where I could shower without being the evening's show) and headed to the coast. We had no way of knowing what to expect, that is part of the fun when we travel, but also the reason things can blowup in your face.

The drive to the coast is slow going. The twists and turns are much like driving in Colombia and we reminisced about that trip and how much we missed the dazzling rainbow of monochromatic greens there... between pulling over so my daughter could puke. We finally pulled into the hot streets of the cute beach town of Puerto Escondido. It has the funky flavor of some of your favorite Mexico spots mixed with a charm that tells of the money that has been seeping in over many years. Trying to actually find our hotel was a journey down bad dirt roads and a maze of driveways that on a future night would actually result in us completely lost... only a few yards from the damn hotel. Oy Vey! Anyway, I already posted about how amazing the hotel was, so let me complain a bit. We decided that we needed to see the bioluminescent lagoon and why not take a tour! I have yet to share the tail of our amazing tours we took in Oaxaca City that lead up to the belief that tours are the BEST. This tour was scheissa. 

Bioluminescence is essentially the incredible phenomenon of these bugs in the water glowing neon green in the dark of night when touched. That is clearly not the scientific description so please google it if interested. We contracted the tour guide to take us to this lagoon and out on a boat. Before we knew it, the private tour was now with another group, partiers from a nearby nude beach. The plan was to meet at a hut near the dock, we arrived and sat with the guide under a single light-bulb, swarmed by mosquitoes, drenched in sweat. I was miserable, but more than my annoyance was my concern for my daughter as we waited. My daughter suffers from sensory issues so the heat, bugs and oppressive humidity was teaming up to create a meltdown panic attack. This is why we make choices wisely for our family such as having a private tour. 40 minutes later the group finally arrived without an apology or excuse. They lost each other between the van and the water and created an obnoxious scene for the locals to chuckle about. Thankfully the guide assessed the situation, also annoyed by the behavior and lack of courtesy and separated us into our own boat, once again we had our private tour. Things seemed to be turning around as the boat created a welcomed breeze and we disappeared into the night. There was zero description of what we were to see, the boat simply stopped and the guide ordered Jesse to jump into the water. Yes, we started to wonder what kind of stupid decision we had made as well; somehow alone in a black lagoon, our wallets left on the boat, seems like a setup. But when the glow circled around Jess in the wildly alien way it does, my daughter and I jumped into the bathwater warm lagoon to join in the fun. The sparkles danced on our skin and it was magical. After 15 mins we got back in the boat, smelling of funky water, and were dropped back off at shore. In comparison to the level of education, duration and personal attention we received on our previous tours, for a fraction of the price, this was bogus. Littered with bites, we returned to our hotel to shower and bitch about the other group, after all the impact of the rude tourists was longer than our tour, I guess we got something for our money after all.

We finished out our time at the exquisite cliff side villa and ventured on to what sounded like a culturally rich immersion into the Isthmus. This would be stop one on our way to the ruins of Palenque and a much needed rest after a long day driving. We found wind, a cell block of a room with beds possibly made entirely of wood and a strange goo running down the wall. The hotel was huge and completely empty which lended itself to feeling like the movie The Shinning. Jess and I ran out for food and did find amazing dishes... really surprising considered the stretch of nothing that we had to choose from. We realized quickly that the 2 nights we booked here was a huge mistake and we exchanged looks of silent horror. To add to the theme of the hotel, a street adjacent to the property shuddered alive with the popping of gun shots. At first only a couple, enough to get our attention. It was followed by another 3 just to make sure as we questioned ourselves that we wouldn't have a doubt of what it was. As if anticipating our feelings, the lonely front desk person alerted us that she'd accidentally only charged us for one night and offered that we could leave. First thing in the morning we packed in a hurry and hit the road. It was as if Hotel California finally cracked open and we COULD leave. We might have left skid marks in the parking lot. 

We felt like gypsies, heading to the next town, hopeful the hotel could take us in a night earlier than reserved. The mountains climbed up and the feeling of the land and its people shifted, a more indigenous quality and we carefully got excited about what was to come. Driving the tiny stone streets of San Cristobal de Las Casas to our hotel, our eyes were lavished with charm and stunning beauty. We started to look for our hotel's name in one of the nooks of the twisted streets, "its called Las Escaleras" I told Jesse, he said "babe that means The Stairs" and looked at me and then my arthritic knees then back at me. Damn, I should really learn Spanish. 

The saga continues, many great memories are being made and some of them are actually due to surviving misfortune together. Maybe I should say here that I actually don't like to complain. Wait, no I love to complain, but I try not to. I am actually a pretty the-glass-is-half-full kind of gal, especially when traveling. Maybe it builds up and that's why I have to vomit it out to all of you. I know that I am beyond lucky to be able to take this long trip with my family. I know many of you are suffering far more than I am without a way to escape. I hope you are able to enjoy my tales of woe as an escape and know that I'm deeply appreciative of every second, even if those seconds are covered with millions of mosquitoes bites.

Stay safe everyone and no matter what, Wine First!

Hey Crazy, What Are You Crazy?

Rheumatoid Arthritis, that's the old lady problem right? You know the one, where the old lady is all tangled up in her own fingers and angry in pain? The one we dismiss as "a bummer" and go on our way never to think of again. Ya, well welcome to your journey into it...with me. 

I have to admit that the diagnosis itself feels like a sentence to becoming the villain in a Disney movie. I immediately saw myself needing to invest in a basket full of temptingly red apples. Turns out it is more complex than that. Did you know that there are different types of arthritis??? I didn't. Ahh to be young and blissfully unaware. Well, turns out you can get the regular kind or you can get the autoimmune disease shit-ass kind. Guess which kind I have?!? Ya, I'm starting to think my body is trying to off me too. So what is this bullshit kind I have? It is when the body turns on itself and in this case, attacks the joints. Wow, you say to yourself, what is that like? Well...it is unlike other pain I have had. It isn't like the pain of an injury or the bone crushing pain I had all over my body with the brain tumor. It also is not like the alien feeling of pain that comes with growing a child in your body or giving birth. It is a whole new weird, inescapable feeling.

You have to be thinking, since this is what I thought, being young, catching it early, means not much to deal with. Nope. As my specialist decreed "this is severe and moving fast" , greeeeeaaaatttt. 

It started in the Spring of 2020, I'd just gotten back from NYC and fallen ill, maybe it was covid, maybe it was not, any which way, I was ill in a way I'd never experienced before and it was just as the lockdown hit our state. As I recovered, we all tried to find a new normal trapped in our home with nothing but our strange thoughts. Being suddenly aware of all the weird things in our small environment, I attributed some joint pain to simply getting old and a sudden awareness to anything and everything, almost like a form of entertainment. I even thought maybe it was that I wasn't getting enough exercise, that I seemed to be in atrophy. Then time to time, my left hand started to bother me, the knuckles grew sore. Before I knew it, my wrist hurt too. Then more knuckles, my elbow, my other hand... I continued to ignore it,  after all we had far bigger fish to fry as our worlds seemed to implode with the stress of covid. Then, one day as I unloaded the dishwasher, chatting with my daughter, my hand and forearm seized in pain and contorted into unnatural positions. It startled us both, the intensity of my shriek, the oddness of the behavior and then it was over. We stared at each other and she asked "what was that?!?" I mirrored her awe back to her and shook my head. My mind immediately went to 'ahhh shit, was that a stroke?', but everything else felt fine, I seemed ok, so of course I dumped it from my brain... until it happened again. Well...actually I did alert my husband to the next time it happened, but to tell the truth what got me to call the doctor was when I couldn't open a bottle of wine on my own. Clearly I was in trouble. My left wrist and hand wouldn't brace the bottle tight enough to be a stabilizer for my right hand to maneuver the corkscrew, it was absolutely terrifying. Images of a fate worse than death flashed before my eyes, what if I was going to have to wait until Jesse got home from work each day before I could have my 1st glass of wine...and during covid! Shrieks of horror echoed across the valley that day.

Fast forward a few months and the RA has gotten worse, quickly. All the joints in my left hand hurt, every single one. My left wrist and elbow are some of the worst joints in my body. My left shoulder, both knees, ankles, toes, right hand knuckles in my pointer and pinky, wrist and shoulder also hurt, but not as bad as the left. Often the issue is that the joint feels like it has been sedated. Like my wrist, for example, took a couple Vicodin with a vodka shot and is out for the night, it simply refuses to respond. Other times it is a severe pain originating inside and burrowing its way out. It is more like the center of a joint has exploded and caused the bone to splinter. Those splinters are now shoved into the nearby bones; like a hangnail ripped back into the cuticle or thick sharp piece of wood jammed under your nail bed. Believe it or not, this is not as bad as the pain associated with a brain tumor so clearly I'm still WINNING. 

I am taking various drugs to try to hold the progression, some to give me some peace from the pain, but nothing seems to help much. The usual drugs that help most people with RA are not an option due to my brain tumor issues so we have had to be creative. My doctor wants to "hit it hard with 3-6 months of chemo" in the hopes that that can be like a system reset for the autoimmune disease and then we can maintain some amount of health after that. I'm all for it. So why isn't that what I am doing right now? Why am I gallivanting all over Mexico during a pandemic? What am I crazy?!? Well, that part is complicated. 

As a mom, we sacrifice... and go a little crazy. From the moment you become pregnant, everything about your body, your life, your emotions...they all get a dose of 'what's good for the baby' and it doesn't let up, even when they become teenagers, or as my mom would say, adults too. This year has been difficult for so many of us, and when it hits your child, you become obsessed with fixing it. Depression is tricky, it can sneak up on you and tear you down. Over the years I've battled with it from light to severe, as you can imagine due to Cushings I had to write a will for an eminent surgery that could result in death, blindness, loss of smell (maybe the worst for me considering my career) or a brain fluid leak that would create horrific debilitating headaches... all while your child watches you disintegrate, can create a deep depression. I will be honest and share that I've been on an antidepressant for about 6 years. I have tried to wean off (always with my doctor's assistance) and then had to increase again. I've had loss and deeply disturbing life experiences that resulted in a need to go back up in dose. So, when my child started to plummet, I knew we needed to act swiftly and my husband saw it too. Perhaps the best way to impress upon you the serious nature of which I speak is that when discussing the need to travel, change locations and have a brain reset for my family, my doctor got it. She has a teenage daughter as well and we held hands, in a covid safe way, in her office, leveled to just two women knowing the unsettling deep love, fear and craziness of being a mom, and we cried together. 

And so here we are, soaking in the sunshine of Mexico, lapping up the delights of the cuisine and relaxing deeply. It is clear it has been helpful, as smiles reappear, and it may be just a band-aid, but we are trying to continue therapy sessions and a healthy evolution toward staying afloat. Yes, I hurt all the time, but my heart, the one that walks around outside my body, has started to heal and that is all I can see. So pour me some mescal, open me a beer and fill my glass with wine because regardless of the shit-show that your life is, and no matter how crazy things get, Wine First.

I Left My Heart in Puerto Escondido

I left you all with a strange introspection last post. Today I'm in a much different place...literally. Yesterday I spent all day laying on a chaise on our balcony over looking the turquoise ocean, steps from our spacious, elegant Villa. Giant potted plants bloomed fuchsia next to me and my husband swung in a hammock to my side, a happy half smile resting on his lips. I felt relaxed and happy. "Happy", I don't know when I last felt happy. The chilled glass of white wine was sweating in my hand while my daughter leaned her waif like body against the railing, entranced by the papaya orange sunset, her chestnut hair sweeping sleepily around her eyes, eyes that finally reflect peace. Every day is shades of this and I really never want to leave this place. 

All of our experiences have been incredible from day one in Mexico; oddly it feels like the beautiful tour of hotels this trip. But this place... with the excellent beach, 80 degree water and sandy bottom, the lullaby waves and warm, humid air's embrace, is so much of what I have been needing, it is intoxicating. Or maybe that's the wine. Another of the charms we have discovered is the outstanding wine industry that seems to have boomed since our last trip to central Mexico some 6 years ago. 

I am lost in the days this trip, not knowing what the date is or what is happening back at home. I have never gone on vacation and left so much of my work at home, and I have to say, it feels amazing! Is this how other people have been travelling?!? I'm usually hurrying back from a tour of the city or play time in the water to answer emails, choreograph events, manage distribution and all the paperwork that goes along with running a winery. Often Jesse and our daughter are forced out exploring so they can "get out of my hair" and I can furiously work, a madwoman chaotically flipping through files and banging away on the keyboard just so I can get some R&R in for part of the day. But this trip, this is like the agave honey I add to my Mezcal, rich and smooth, a silky flow of sweetness that erases all the bitterness and bite from your life. 

The professionals, both my doctors and my daughter's therapist, encouraged the taking of this trip. A necessary application of travel to sooth deeply troubled parts of our lives. My RA specialist teared up as we spoke in her office discussing a plan for treatment balancing the need for this trip. Her heartfelt connection and understanding has forever bonded me to her and I reflect on just how lucky I have been to have had so many amazing doctors in my life. She also recommended a daily dose of tequila, like I said, I love this woman. We had hoped we were making the right decision, traveling during covid times seeming needlessly dangerous, but as the days tick away and we settle into the decadent, simple life of Mexico's getaway destinations, it feels more than right, it feels bone deep necessary. 

I have stories to tell of the sites, sounds and tastes of Oaxaca City, magical explorations and culinary treats. I have stories of trying to escape the evolving pain of RA and its strange deterioration of my joints, but those all need to wait for another day. Today, all I can do is raise my wide brimmed hat from my eyes to watch giant turtles play, read the  book that has been calling me for 6 months and sip my wine, because as we all know, before you can do anything, you need to Wine First.

To Hell & Back Again: Welcome to My Bad Mood

 

I'm flooded with annoyance this morning. I'm not sure why exactly either. I am in a gorgeous place, having amazing experiences, eating incredible food, drinking wonderful local wines... so what's up? You've probably guessed that I am happy with the USA election results so it definitely isn't that. Maybe it's traveling with a teenager that in the natural consequence of sharing hotel rooms has become a total cockblock. Sorry for the overshare on that, but we are all adults here right? Or maybe it is the scrolling through social media to see post after post of people I thought I knew, sharing things that seem like contradictory ideas to who I thought they were. Its as if 2020 has given some a high dose of LSD and they have never really come out of the trip. Don't get me wrong, I'm fine with difference of opinion, I am actually one of those people that did not unfriend anyone for their views during this heated election. I have allowed space for constructive discussion and think it is important to have, I also believe that you can "sleep" a friendship or scroll past a post. I have been criticized for this so called lackadaisical approach, but I believe it is a fine line to walk. Anyone that posted hate speech I did block, I don't think there is room for that anywhere, but just as I want to have the opportunity to possibly open someone's mind up to a new way of thinking about something, I recognize that they have the same drive and that most people are coming from a place of truth, even if we don't agree. I understand the stance that certain affiliations are seen as belief in misogyny and racism, and I do see an increase of those beliefs in the people that support those that seem to condone revolting behavior, but I have also had some amazing conversations with people that have allowed for a back and forth and that have not necessarily changed their overall views, but said that it has made an impact on them. They now know someone that is ___ or has had ____ happen and that the discussion makes them question some of their ideas. This is deeply important to me, to give a face to something they didn't understand and feared from it being unknown. But today, I suddenly hit a limit of seeing aspects of people I thought I knew, go to the dark side and disregard logical discussion.

As I said, I'm flooded with annoyance. Maybe I'm overly sensitive to social media today, because I'm itching to be irritated. My mind seems to be finding the holes in conversations I had before we even left on this vacation, a sudden emotional hook on something that should probably be dropped. Or maybe it is the constant low-grade pain that my rheumatoid arthritis is causing in every joint in my body. The meds seem to be dulling the pain, decreasing inflammation and addressing some aspects, but by the time evening has come, my body pings at me in pain. I apply a cream to sooth joints, like my wrists, and find that they can't bend to a normal degree on their own. It is a strange sensation, like the joint has become so deeply fatigued that it passed out mid use. Or maybe its that over the course of a brain tumor, travel, turning 40 (and my metabolism slowing down), then 2020 and an autoimmune disease... my body has packed on the pounds. I hardly recognize myself and the constant reminder as I try on a cute dress, or have my teenager tell me that I look like I'm pregnant, are a daily battleground of self-hatred.

Man, I've gone to a dark place. I bet you are really glad you decided to read this blog today, uplifting right? LOL! What can I say, I'm not always fun to be around. OK, OK, OK, let me turn this around. Maybe I just needed to vomit it out, see it on screen and realize that it isn't all as bad as I'm feeling it to be. Do you ever find yourself in that place? Head full of negativity only to take a moment to look at it and realize none of it is that bad? Those people that I'm sad to see change before my eyes, well, maybe I need a break from seeing so much of them, continue to practice the "sleep" mode when need be. Maybe I need to just relax, let the sun of Mexico seep into my bones. Maybe I just need to get laid.

I appreciate you letting me vent, lending me your ear. Now I will go search out a glass of wine, because before I can practice self acceptance, I'll need to Wine First.

Mezcal and What?!?

Most of us are sitting, stunned this morning. The election results are still not final, but having such a close race is disturbing. I try not to openly speak about politics or religion because of my affiliation with our family business and as I've crafted the branding over these years, it has been important to all of us to be inclusive, keep personal feelings aside and welcome anyone to our doors. However, at this time, I have to say that I am shocked at how close this election is and I'm deeply concerned. That said, it is time to talk of other things... 

Mezcal! What the hell is it and why would anyone drink it? Yes it is the alcohol that sometimes has a worm at the bottom and often has a smokey aroma. Yes, it is the drink I have steered clear of because I viewed it as Tequila's evil cousin, but evidently it is much more. 

Oaxaca is known for several things, chocolate, gorgeous embroidery, ornate carved figurines, mole and Mezcal. After a tasting at a Mezcalria and some light reading on the subject (ok so Jesse did the reading and then told me pieces of info), I am learning how amazingly complex and interesting the drink is. I am a lightweight when it comes to hard booze and am, in fact one of those people that swears they can taste the difference in various vodkas, something I've been told by heavy spirit aficionados is impossible. So a Mezcal tasting wasn't exactly my cup of tea, but being obsessed with analyzing flavors and aromas, I happily accompanied my husband. 

I have to sidestep here for a moment to say that the branding of this Mezcalria "In Situ", was incredible. The evil drinking rabbit logo was clever to begin with, but they had black tiles laid in the floor that beautifully incorporated the design as well. The elegant, upscale tasting room took the logo and snuck it into every possible aspect of the bottles, merchandise, glasses and gift wrap. It was impeccable and my branding bone twitched with envy.

OK back to the actual booze. We each tried 3, I took on the flavor infused and Jesse took on the pure, plant focused line up. Amazingly, these artisan crafts are meant to showcase the plant and never be sweet so while plum, honey chile and chocolate may sound like a girly drink, they are most certainly not. I really enjoyed the sampling and learning how they add the infused flavors during distilling and in pure form so, for example, the chocolate was actual cocao beans! I also learned that Oaxaca supplies the bulk of the agave used for Mezcal. And handy tip, Tequila is a type of Mezcal, but made from the blue agave plant and made in a very specific way in Tequila, Mexico. Think Champagne, only called such if made in a specific way in Champagne, France. Jesse tasted 3 that were quite unique and while the 1st one smelled lovely of green vegetation, the palate was a bit intense for me. The 2nd, the more classic smokey version was actually sweeter on the palate and the 3rd made my face twist and contort, guess which one Jesse liked? Yep, the weird 3rd one that smelled of band-aid and tasted like sweat socks, or what I imagine sweat socks to taste like. He's so weird.

As I scribbled notes, the gentleman pouring discussed the intricacies of the 3 Jess tasted. As he learned that Jess is a winemaker and also amateur distill fanatic, he launched into different aspects of the process and the plants. "This plant was 30 years old before harvest, they did a hand mash and distilled in copper then added the chicken and did a second run..." hey hey hey WHAT?!? Yes, yes that's right... CHICKEN!!! OK that is when the wheels in my head came to s screeching halt. Maybe I am naive in the hard booze biz, but did you know that meat is sometimes used as a flavoring component?!? Ya, this is no bueno in my book and I am an avid meat eater. 

Needless to say, we bought a small bottle of chocolate, a small bottle of the "green one" and Jess got a big bottle of the chicken, ewww. They wrapped them beautifully in logo stamped paper, mine even came in a delightful box with a bowl/ cup they like you to drink out of... that has the logo subtly formed into the bottom of the glass, and slid the items into a bag made from the fibers of the agave plant. A+ for attention to detail "in Situ"! As a thank you, they gave us fantastic logo emblazoned masks, I seriously love this place.

Once home in our new hotel, we stretched out over the bed and checked our phones. We have switched hotels, finding a far more amazing place 4 blocks from our previous hotel right in the middle of things, but absolutely divine. It looks like an art gallery, the room has big windows with flowers planted along it, the room is twice the size and the location offers us a new area to explore. Social media was on fire with anticipation for election results and we felt we needed to seek out alternative entertainment. Jesse chose booze news (yes this is a thing) and excitedly alerted me that he MUST have this Bourbon made with deer meat and one made with the musk of the beaver. I'm seriously disgusted and wondering if my husband needs mental health support.

Now, today is stretching into afternoon and I have a glass of chilled Chenin Blanc from Mexico in my glass, my deep love for wine ecstatic over this nectar. The heat of the sun is warming my feet and the joy of being 2000 miles from home as the insanity unfolds in the USA, is deeply soothing. I send you all love, kindness, and patience as these will no doubt be difficult times regardless of results. Take time out of the day to pour yourself a glass of wine and take a deep breath because no matter what, Wine First. 

You Have Arrived

 

DISCLAIMER: I want to start with the fact that we have been extremely safe during the time of Covid. We have essentially been in lock down since March 2020. We wear masks, we sanitize, we socially distance. But, as with other families around the world, we have faced critical issues that have forced us to assess the risk of travel against the risk of dropping everything for a loved one in need. The details are not mine to share so I'll leave it at that. I ask that you trust me, I wouldn't be travelling under regular conditions during a pandemic. 

Oaxaca has been our destination since leaving the USA and finally we have made it. The City isn't what I thought it would be though. Somehow it is far more authentic than the Disneyland version I'd anticipated. The colorful buildings and expressive colonial facades are what I pictured, but the feeling is different. I always find that curious, the feeling of a place. No matter how many photos you see prior to arrival, the feeling is its own and it can either envelope you or reject you. Oaxaca definitely welcomed us with open arms... after a momentary, cautious check.

Like a hesitant blind date, the city seemed to hold back at first. We arrived stunned by the chaos of the large city and confused by the expensive hotel that called a small room with no windows a "junior suite". We stumbled about the dirty Zocalo (a plaza of sorts that is in the shape of a cross so really 4 different squares) and wondered if we'd made a mistake booking so many days in this strange city. The next morning however, as we lapped up coffee in the most charming balcony patio you could possibly imagine, a veil was lifted and we began our courtship with this mysterious town. 

Usually a packed tourist destination, the almost empty streets opened up to us. The "dirty" square shrugged off the grime and allowed us a peak into covertly smart combinations of the old traditions and the new styles. Covid safe practices are followed to a degree we haven't seen before and made us feel protected in market places. The giant markets are filled with so many goodies you can't help but gasp and fill your nose with the cloth of your mask. Colors so magically vibrant, smells so defiantly exotic and wonders the eyes have never seen... at least my USA white girl's eyes have never seen. And the best part? It is all largely your own play space as they limit numbers and the stalls beg you to make discoveries all your own. Quickly we became enamored by the subtle whisper that Oaxaca was, the gentle warm breeze that swathed us, and the easy massage that was culling our weary bones. It is unusual to find a place so original while simultaneously tourism driven, it has not lost its authenticity and that is poetic.

We have planned purposely to be here for Dia de Los Muertos, a place touted as one of the best to celebrate this festival in Mexico. While Covid has clearly made an impact on festivities, it is perhaps more perfect as we get to sneak into the local celebrations with a silent, artistic peak at what it really means here; no parades, no fiestas, but pure unadulterated beauty and dedication. Giant skeletons ornately dressed stand guard at corners and on balconies while orange flowers drip over doorways, and everywhere you turn you find the most amazing shrines to those we've lost. The longer we are here, the more it seems to seep into our blood. I see the chaos of home less and less in my rear-view mirror and I breathe a sigh of relief. My joints scream time to time throughout the day as I battle RA, but my daughter laughs with an ease that I haven't heard in so long that my chest literally pounds with happy heartbeats.

I have backed off work while I travel, a first for me. I usually spend a great deal of our vacation working and to have a mandate from my doctor to make my life stress free immediately is definitely a change. I gratefully have my sister-in-law taking over aspects of my part of the winery and while the sensation of letting go is foreign to me, it is adding a lush and vibrant element to my existence and I relish every moment.

As I sip my Madera 5 Rose of Sangiovese, a Mexican wine a little too salty, a little too acidic, but beautifully strawberry and interesting, I ask you to reflect on where you can pull back in your life. The stress of the election tomorrow is weighing heavy on everyone. Let us be kind to one another and to ourselves. Pour a glass and remember that no matter what you do, Wine First.

Do As The Locals Do

 

DISCLAIMER: I want to start with the fact that we have been extremely safe during the time of Covid. We have essentially been in lock down since March 2020. We wear masks, we sanitize, we socially distance. But, as with other families around the world, we have faced critical issues that have forced us to assess the risk of travel against the risk of dropping everything for a loved one in need. The details are not mine to share so I'll leave it at that. I ask that you trust me, I wouldn't be travelling under regular conditions during a pandemic. 

 As we completed another long day of driving, the city of Puebla, only an hour and a half left away, tantalized us with an end near in sight. Suddenly the free for all of crisscrossing traffic narrowed into tight straight lines and we found ourselves in stand still traffic. Walled in by semi-trucks we sat for hours, discouraged and frustrated we saw no way out. The accident 8 miles up the road (a couple semi-trucks having tipped over, a mess, but didn't seem to have serious injuries) would take many more hours to clear and we started to survey our supplies for a probable night in the car. Out of the stillness, a truck in the lane up ahead, sandwiched in, began twisting and turning in its confines, threatening to crush its own bumpers against the bohemith vehicles surrounding it. Then suddenly, the small sized truck reversed skirting a semi-truck, narrowly escaping the steep concrete crevasse that ran along the highway, past a cop and then up onto the grassy hill beside us. We watched in awe, what was this psycho doing?!? Local men standing at the top of the hill, presumably to ascertain any progress with the accident up ahead, began working with shovels to create a makeshift bridge and helped heave the truck over this off-road obstacle course and then... he was gone. Jealousy must have hit more than just us because soon other trucks were squeezing their way awkwardly through spaces that caused us to gasp. Where were they going?!?! Were we crazy enough to follow?

The answer to that last question seemed to be a shaky yes. As the car behind us readied himself for the tango to free his car, he yelled out the window for us to follow. Elated at the idea of freedom Jesse threw the car into reverse, my daughter and I quickly voicing our concerns, we we found ourselves, in our small VW Jetta, riding over enormous ditches and piles of dirt down into fields of wheat and corn. We trailed behind the other crazy people driving through these crops along what can only be assumed to be ancient tractor tracks. We emerged onto a small road that wove its way through tiny towns and back on our way to our destination. Even for people that grew up off-roading in the hills of Taos, NM, this was exhilarating. Perhaps simply because the breath of being freed from a certain terrible night in our car was avoided. Maybe it was the idea of being in a different country and feeling like this was certainly not a legal way to find a new route. Any which way, we knew the adventure had for sure begun.

Puebla itself proved to be charming. We stayed in the old part of the city, a block from the central plaza and church, in a fantastic two story little apartment style hotel that tended to our every need. We wandered under the mandarin colored lights, ate moles in every color of the rainbow and sipped delicious Mexican wine.

The slow nature of Mexican culture is deeply soothing to our raw USA lives. And it isn't that Mexico is loose on covid, they are incredibly on top of it actually. Temperatures are taken before you are allowed to sit in an outdoor cafe that is setup on the sidewalk. Your hands are sanitized and everything is wiped down before and after you touch it. EVERYONE is wearing masks and while the social distancing appears to be less, it is based on familiar pods of people with stores/ restaurants/ hotels limiting numbers, and keeping seats separated. It feels very safe, it is beautiful, the people are amazing and we are grateful to be here.

So why are we here? People really want to know, and as the disclaimer states, I can't get into all the details, but I will share my personal issues. I was officially diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and the pain is effecting my daily existence. Several years ago I battled a brain tumor via a disease called "cushings" which I have healed from, but will have to be monitored for forever. Having an autoimmune disease now seems horribly unfair and my depression has spiked. My daughter has also needed support as she has struggled with depression and as the spiral of our family seemed to plummet, we needed to get creative and quickly. My RA is severe and I am on strong drugs to combat progression, but due to cushings, we have had to be creative since I can't take things that would interfere with that. And, when I return home, we will combat the RA with a hard hit of chemo treatments for 3-6 months. Yes I did make the choice to come to Mexico during a pandemic, during a scary diagnosis and during political unrest, and yes, it was absolutely the right choice.

And so, another type of healing has begun; one of great food, warm breezes and breathtakingly beautiful culture. Join us in raising a glass as Dia de Los Muertos starts and remember, no matter how bad things get to open some wine and Wine First!