The trip started off slower than expected as you already know from my first Puerto Vallarta (PV) post. Once we left LAX though it was smooth, albeit snug, sailing for the remainder of the journey. Arrived on schedule just after lunch on Oct 12th we made our way through the gauntlet past all the time-share salesmen and headed outside the airport. Boy the heat hits you like someone has thrown a pail of hot water at you. With sweat dripping places I didn't know I had pores, and the sun gloriously shining in the sky off we went to try and find the local bus stop into town. An airport crossing guard was helpful and directed us onto the proper bus and off we went. You really need to be able to read quickly when finding the right bus as they paint all the destination names on the windshield and you have to be able find where you want to go pretty fast or the buses just fly by.
Now this following adventure is dedicated to my father, who explained how very easy it is to take the bus in PV: You need to imagine first of all though two travel-weary adults who have already slept overnight in the airport; spent the morning on the plane, and by now are covered with a slight glistening of sweat (everywhere). Let's just say we are probably not looking our best. Luggage in tow, along with the required 13 pesos (6.5 x2) for the bus fare, I clamored on board. I paid the fare to our bus driver who I am sure was blind in one eye, and the cataracts in the other one probably render him nowhere near 20/20 vision.....well at least he knew where he was going. I see some seats a couple rows back and go and sit down expecting my travel companion to be right behind me, but all of a sudden the bus takes off like a bat out of hades and the next thing I see is my travel companion and their rolling luggage literally flying to the back of the bus. Mexicans clearing the way row by row until they reach the back. I was honestly expecting to see a Loony Tunes exit through the metal back of the bus with only the shape of a person left behind to show proof of their prior existence on the bus journey. Luckily by grabbing onto the last post they were able to screech to a halt with just a moment to spare.
Due to my pastiness and sweaty gleam it was obvious, even though I was now several rows forward on the bus, that we belonged together and I was offered a seat in the back row - probably a good thing for an easy exit later, but due to the lack of shocks, and the very pot-holed cobble-stoned streets it made for an extremely bouncy, jarring ride. At one point we even caught air, and I don't mean just a little - I mean luggage and all lifted off. See the picture above - well those metal seats REALLY hurt when you land again.
Fortunately a mid-30s guy who spoke some English let us know when we were supposed to get off and, after watching other people disembark at previous stops I knew we needed to be ready when the time came, as there is no such thing as "coming to a complete stop" for these bus drivers. It isn't really a rolling stop either. More like you just need to be sure you are ready for when the doors open while they are still going mach 10 and prepared so that when they are finally going slow enough you can jump off. If you had to jump, duck and roll and you wouldn't break anything that is about the speed they slow down to. Happy to report no humans or luggage were injured in our "departure".
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