The end of lockdown?

Monday 15th June 2020

Up early and a bit more coding while it’s cool. Come 3pm and Arturo hasn’t appeared on line, so after a little wait, I pile into the dinghy, and head off to the beach. It’s another stinking hot day and it’s just great to do some swimming in the cooler water.

La Paz has opened up a lot today, I haven’t been into town to see, but the main Malecon (boardwalk/promenade) which runs for several miles along the waterfront is still closed to pedestrians, but vehicles can use it now, and they certainly are. From the far side of the bay, on the Magote beach I can hear the continuous rumble of traffic trundling along. A passenger jet flies overhead having just taken off from the airport and I realise that this is the start of the end of the peace. A lot of people are very excited that they can go out shopping now, or hang out in coffee shops, but not me. I don’t suppose there will ever be such a lull in life again, at least not in my life time. I hope I made the most of it.

I let the wind and the current push me back towards the marina, by the time I get there I could do with another swim to cool down. I think I might do this more often. Today felt like a Sunday, and I toy with the idea of making it a Sunday, thereby working on an 8 day week. I would need a name for the extra day, maybe Exday would work, I would put it between Friday and Saturday. I’m not sure, but I think after 7 weeks, I would be back in step with the rest of the world, and could hop back onto the 7 day week again. I should have started this plan a month ago while everybody treated every day the same. Another thought is to delete wednesday, for a 6 day week, 7 week trial.

Back at the boat and Arturo calls to apologise, but he got a job in a restaurant, in a dodgy part of town and he couldn’t leave when he was expecting to so we reschedule the lesson for the evening.
The lesson goes ahead with Arturo teaching me from an empty restaurant on the waterfront. It seems the dodgy part of town is just a block down from where I am. I think it’s just a little isolated on the beach at night with everything shutdown. Arturo is only doing the work as the owner also runs a diving tourist operation he is hoping to work for.

Tuesday:
Sitting down in the cockpit for breakfast and I kick the cafetiere over, covering all my lovely new teak in Mexico’s finest brew. If it’s not one thing ….
My noisy neighbours left a few days ago, and it looks like Paul and Jana on the big motor launch next to me are getting ready to depart soon.
I call Kathy and she laughs when I tell her about Arturo and last nights lesson; Arturo had taught me some good phrases, like ‘en serio’ I’m serious, or are you serious. I asked him if I could have used it when the security guy said I was too old to enter the supermarket. Arturo was surprised, but not enough, in my book, he laughed and said I should use that phrase next time. However instead of saying ‘hey paul, you don’t look that old’, he actually offered to do my shopping for me if I got stuck, which was even worse. Sure Arturo, thanks and see if you can pick up a zimmer frame for me while you’re at it! I did wonder if it was Karma, and when I was offered free entry to the museum as a senior a few months ago I should have refused. What’s the saying, live by the free bus pass, die by the …
Later my neighbours call by and invite me to dinner tomorrow. I’m rather unsure due to Covid, they aren’t taking it too seriously, but I don’t know how to say no. It might be a British thing, but we hate to be rude, so I will just have to catch the virus and die, rather than upset them.

Wednesday:
It’s so hot today, but before it reaches its peak, I cycle down the recently opened Malecon to Marina Palmera.

There’s a guy there who has been running a diving school from his yacht, Covid has put an end to that and he’s selling up and heading back to Canada. He had a load of diving and other gear going at very good prices, but I’m a bit late finding out. In the end I buy a used BCD (diving inflatable jacket thing) and a very nice mask and snorkel, all for $60. I also get some good tips on the best places in La Paz for diving equipment and service. Cycling back I stop of at a ferreteria and pick up a small tarp to cover a gap between the big tarp and the little one on the bow, this will keep the sun out of the cabin in the afternoon. Unfortunately Sister Midnight is starting to resemble a refugee camp from the dock.
In the evening I head over to my neighbours for dinner, an experience I will never forget. Starting with my hosts boast of running with the bulls in Pamploma as a young man, to ending with their joint vow not to travel to Florida as there are two many democrats there. I learnt so much about the true origins of Covid, why it had been invented and who it was designed to take out, along with much new information on how to kill it should it ever reappear. I left enlightened and with a much better understanding of the US presidents popularity.

Thursday:
I take the dinghy over to the Magote beach today. It’s been a really hot week, mostly around 37 deg C during the day and sometimes as low as 25 in the night. It’s so nice to have a swim and I try out the new snorkel mask I bought yesterday, only it’s just sand with the odd shell below me. To think the whale sharks are just around the corner, but I’m not allowed to visit them without a guide.
On the way back I snap a couple of pictures of a big mega yacht that seems to live at the end of the marina,

I think it’s a bit ugly, but I now know it’s one of several yachts owned by Carlos Slim, who used to regularly swap places with Bill Gates for the title of Richest Person in the World.

Back on Sister Midnight I received a visit from my new American friends I dined with last night, they had brought some fruit and veg over that they were chucking before they leave for the US. We chatted for a bit and I was asked what I thought about Trump, I explained it was difficult for me as a Brit to criticise another world leader these days, in fact any misplaced feeling of superiority I might have once felt traveling the world has definitely gone now, which is a good thing anyway. I pointed out we have a well educated idiot running the UK, and I thought they had an ignorant idiot running their country. She sighed but reminded me, that despite all of that, he was a financial genius, and America was going to need that after the virus. She pointed out how the economy had been massively on the up since he came into office, I pointed out it was already on the up before he came into office, but apparently that wasn’t significant. The man’s still a genius.

Friday:
So in for a virion, in for a pound (of SARS-CoV-2 that is) I arrange to meet Arturo and do some shopping downtown at the public market. he has had me rehearsing my lines for shopping, and striking up conversations with people. On our walk to the mercado, I learn a lot of names for street furniture and pavements steps, railings etc. by the time we reach the market I have forgotten them, and with all the confusion in my head I have even forgotten how to say “hello, can I have a kilo of carrots please” not that I ever wanted to buy any carrots. So we sit down outside the market at the bus stop amongst the local people and Arturo whips out his travelling whiteboard and marcadora (marker), and boradora (eraser) and we set about going over all the words I have just learnt and immediately forgotten. I know we will be there until I learn them so I make an almighty effort. Of course the old man sitting over from us is very interested in us and my broken Spanish and Arturo says we must bring him into the conversation, which is a bit scary. So Arturo explains he is my teacher and can he help. the old man is delighted and exclaims in fast La Paz style, he is happy to help foreigners as we are all the same under the eyes of the lord. An interesting start I think. Arturo pushes me hard, “Greet him Paul, Quickly” So I’m in with the old “Hola, Buenas Dias, Como estás”, it’s going well. He replies with some foreign language, probably spanish, who knows. Arturo intervenes and we find out the man has a brother in America, I tell him I am English and I live in a boat in marina La Paz. My boat is very beautiful and I have a house in Liverpool. That’s it for me, out of stock phrases, but Arturo is pushing, say more paul tell him more about yourself, I’m struggling, so. I go with the “Tengo sesenta uno años” I’m sixty one, he replies “I’m 84”, which I’m pleased I understand. But not so pleased when I realise I’m in a bus stop talking to an old man going “I’m 61 you know”, and he’s going “I’m 84 you know”. Kathy and I have agreed that it’s over when we start telling people are age like that!
We move on into the market and I have to buy the vegetables and fish, that goes well, I tell the green grocer “I’m 61 you know” and Arturo starts laughing. That’s it. I can do the age thing, no need for that anymore.
I manage to ask the fishmonger where he gets his tuna from and is it frozen, which it is, and buy 1/4 kg for a very reasonable price.
We head back to the boat and Arturo cooks up a shrimp bouillabaisse type soup.

This takes some time so we practice Spanish which is great. Sometimes I speak French to Arturo which is fun because he doesn’t realise we switched languages right away. I only know a few french phrases, but I can slip in the odd ‘Mais Oui’ instead of ‘si’ and it takes a little while before he twigs. Later he tells me his portuguese is quite good and he learnt it by playing with Brazilians in online World of Warcraft type games.

Once cooked we move into the cockpit for a late lunch. It’s very tasty.

As it’s now about 4pm and very hot I suggest to Arturo we take the dinghy over to the beach for a swim, he’s keen, he hasn’t been to a beach since the start of lockdown in March. We have tried to social distance all day, but I expect if either of us had the virus we both have it now. but we have been in the sunshine and as my new American friends told me, that will kill it! (need an emoticon for a bewildered shaking head at this juncture).
We have a refreshing swim, and on our return we checkout a sunken yacht that has half the hull visible above the waterline. It has had every deck fitting unbolted and a hole cut around the depth transducer. Nothing was wasted, other than a ton of fiberglass that nobody seems to want.
We finish the day at a burrito bar where Arturo has made friends with the owner. As I’m not eating meat these days, my maestro has me go over all the possible fillings with the owner that I could have, in spanish of course, we settle on Champiñons, cebolla, Avocet y salsa. Very tasty.

Saturday:
Yesterday I managed to fix a software bug in my solar data collection system, or so I thought, today it appeared I had actually just added another bug. The changes I made to the software were trivial, and I was sure they would work fine, it’s not easy to test on a live system, and building a test system takes ages, so I winged it, consequently today I sent a few hours fixing my bug and doing proper testing. It didn’t help that one of our data providers choose today to have a fault on their system and they were sending me bad data.
My Americans friends from next door left for America on Thursday and returned on Friday night, I saw them this morning and found out their car had broken down in the desert and they had to limp back to La Paz at 20mph. They are hoping to try again on Tuesday. The Americans on the boat that recently arrived opposite me seem to have declared the Covid incident over, and are having parties in the cockpit, everyone invited, leave your mask at home. Sadly I can’t make it, I have some drying paint that needs my attention.
On my trip to Chedraui I notice work is now progressing on the new building site on the waterfront. The building at the back that I posted a while back, was I thought an abandoned apartment block, but in fact it is a derelict hotel, the Hotel Grand Baja. I found some information on the web..

“1976 seemed to be dominated by the completion of what most considered the pinnacle of the tourism complex in La Paz, the Hotel Presidente Gran Baja California Sur.
The eleven story, five-star resort hotel was the tallest building in the state, and boasted tennis courts, a pool, bars, restaurants, a nightclub, two floors of suites at the top of the hotel, and a total of 250 rooms for guests, who could also make use of the beach on the Bay of La Paz, and the pier, for mooring yachts.
Twenty years later, the Gran Baja would be an abandoned shell, blighted by vandalism and a monument to the failings and near demise of the La Paz complex“

There was talk from the state governor of pushing to get it re-opened, but I can’t see how that will work, especially now. It may not be the last hotel to end up as a derelict eyesore along the coast of BCS. To be fair this is the biggest building in La Paz, and is a bit unusual, but get down to Los Cabos, and there are scores of building like this.

Sunday:
A lazy day again. It’s just too hot to get much anything done. Last night I brought the bike down to the boat and gave it a service while it was cooler, it had been making embarrassing noises when I applied the brakes. It needs new pads. Today I take it back to the bike racks in the marina car park.
I promise if that’s all I can find to write about going forward, I will stop the blog and spare you the tedium of reading it.
I finally managed to code up the web pages I said I would do a week or two back, now I have to update the documentation and do some more testing before I release it, but I will be glad when that’s out and I can get back to being lazy again.

Covid rates have doubled here these last few days, still lowish numbers, but more places are opening and there were queues for some of the beaches this week. Also the UK should be seeing the start of a significant increase around now, but that hasn’t materialised. I suspect in the UK the numbers aren’t accurate, the government are under pressure to get the country open again, and the scientists have all been silenced so we will have to wait and see. Kathy and I review our plans constantly as to when she should come out here or when I should go back there, but right now I think I may take the boat north in July/August and fly home in September for a few weeks, feed the cat and pick up my mail.

Paul Collister.