The tourist board touts Manzanillo as the sailfish capital of the world and a sport fisherman’s paradise. The cops refer to this city as the biggest Laundromat in all of Mexico for dirty Cartel money. But I don’t fish and I’m not aware of needing any currency cleansed, so it’s time for a walk.
I stayed close to home this morning, just chatting with the neighbors. The lady directly across the street from me, Lulu (and it seems there are a lot of Lulus in this town), is usually up and about before me. She likes to do her gardening early while the weather is still cool. Sometimes she has a chair from what looks like her grandkids’ table set and she can sit comfortably low and close to the weeds. She’s got a lovely smile and I just learned that it was her sister that sold me property fourteen years ago.
Some new people moved in down the road a few doors, and the story going around is that they stole the house. I know this is fairly common in Colima city, but hadn’t heard of it happening here.
Decades ago, before the days of computers and Internet, a couple rented a house in a very upscale town near San Francisco. Then they rented an office and opened a real estate title company. Next they assumed the identities of yet another couple and went to a bank with the story that they were interested in buying a property that had just come on the market in Hillsborough, the house they were renting. The bank transferred money to the fictitious title company and ‘Bob’s your uncle.’ The charming young couple took off with over a million bucks, which was a lot of jingle back in the day. It’s a crazy story that later involved a Chinese gangster and a trip to Rio de Janeiro, and so much for stealing houses.
There’s a dirt road that takes off from my street and makes a long broad turn up toward the Boulavard Miguel de la Madrid. About halfway along the road there is a chap who raises cocks. It’s a large fenced in area with ten or twelve well-made A-frame structures; they’re spaced far enough apart that the big roosters don’t seem to have a problem with
‘territorial imperative.’
The operation is very neat and organized. He’s got a goat in there for keeping the ground cover low, and a guard dog. These cocks are beautiful; sleek feathers, muscular builds, and massive spurs on their legs. They exude an air of dominance and power. On occasion, I have seen a car or two parked up close and what looks like deals being made.
And then it’s a right turn and a few shops away from Juanitos, a short walk this morning but a good one. Enjoy the city!
