Belief is wonderful. Hope even better. We would escape from the frenzy of Phoenix and its summer heat, to the gentle swaying of coconut trees, the lapping of waves on the shore and the call of the sea gulls floating on the warm summer breezes of the tropics. Mmmmmm . A few problems to sort out first. In our new home, the safe doesn’t work. The jacuzzi doesn’t work. The plumbing coughs and splutters. The thermostat on the air conditioning insists on trying to freeze me to death and is oblivious to change whatever button I press. Can’t go out the back door because of the smell and for good measure my old friends the grackles are the dominant bird species. I am sure they got wind of my antipathy to them from their Phoenix family branch and have done nothing but shriek their disapproval. We’re two miles from San Pedro where the shops are, no food, we don’t have a golf cart and while our phones work we are charged expensive International fees.
Always look on the bright side of life. Remember? The condo apartment is spacious, comfortable, has interesting local artwork with lots of tropical sunsets, carved wooden heads of ancient unhappy Mayans and a fine collection of Talavera Mexican pottery.
The kitchen has every known electrical device to help a cook except a decent chopping board, sharp knives, a kettle to boil water, a pan to boil spaghetti, and kitchen utensils. In other words it’s well appointed complete with a rusting Black and Decker toaster which tries to bite you. Do not ask about the assorted glassware… it’s best described as hybridized, plastic, glass, all shapes, all sizes. The induction cooker is from Frigidaire and glows a pretty red – for a long time after you turn it off. Oh and just to make life that little bit more bearable, the nine apartment complex is undergoing a major plumbing upgrade while we are here which includes lots of drills and hammers.
We came here because we wanted peace and quiet. The place IS named Tranquility Bay Beach Club. No 2. Perhaps we should have borne the fardels (burdens) of Beekman rather than flown to others that we know not of? Too late. Our first discovery was a brand new restaurant, just opened, opposite us called Southern Comfort. The name sounded wonderful. We hadn’t eaten. Unpack. Hold our noses. We’ll sort out all the other problems in the morning. We have beds for the night, a large container of water. Once more unto breach, dear friends…
Enter, Stage Left. “Roger” – young, good looking, and the caretaker. Could have served the purpose on in any DH Lawrence classic. He lives on site and provided us with the password to the internet and the keys. And I should mention JR, the taxi driver, who picked us up from the air port . Both were prepared to do anything to keep us happy.
Marney was soon in touch with the owner. Accommodations were made and we were consoled. Southern Comfort Restaurant across the way welcomed us and I enthused over the neat row of newly planted red Ixora lining the front wall of the restaurant. A young waitress invited us in. We were the only people in there which usually is not a good sign but the waitress assured us that they are usually busy. We sat and I ordered my first local beer – Belikin – which is actually good. The menu was on a chalkboard on the wall. I don’t know Southern Comfort food so I didn’t know what to expect. Marney ordered a pulled pork sandwich and I tried the chicken special which was a strange dish. It came with side dishes of corn and fried okra. The corn was frozen, the okra battered but neither tasted of anything. Strings of overcooked chicken meat floated in a white tasteless gravy between square bits of white pasta. I wasn’t quite sure what I was eating but after a long day traveling I admit to being comforted. Gordon Ramsay would have choice words but I was hungry. Marney promised the owner, a pleasant lady from the South, that the food was good and that we would return. Perhaps. Sleep beckoned.
Marney Here:
Well, the above pretty well describes the first 24 hours. It was disconcerting and probably seemed worse than it was since we were so tired and hungry. Of course the kitchen utensils didn’t bother me and if you know me, you know why. I was pleased overall with the inside of the condo.
The hot tub not working was another matter and very disappointing but I was happy to see the sign for the Southern Comfort restaurant as I love good Southern dishes. Well, my pulled pork was so bland I asked for BBQ sauce and the waitress had no idea what I was talking about but being the type to want to please actually asked the chef/owner who sent out a mixture of vinegar and tomato sauce. She then came out of the kitchen to tell me real Southern food was saturated in a vinegar sauce – not BBQ sauce. I spent a lot of my life in Texas so maybe that is not considered the South but whatever… it was boring and tasteless and looking at Alan’s dish almost killed my appetite. We both managed to inhale the French fries though (the tomato sauce and vinegar came in handy) and left at least full. The bed was comfortable and while Alan hates the cold AC, I was in heaven. After a good sleep, the next day things seemed much better and we were ready to hit the town – San Pedro. Good thing too – a way to escape the drills which we were assured would only last another day or two. Stay tuned…
The condo apartment is spacious, comfortable, has interesting local artwork with lots of tropical sunsets, carved wooden heads of ancient unhappy Mayans and a fine collection of Talavera Mexican pottery. 
