Yes... my life is hard. Got connected through my close friend Sarah with a spectacular place to spend the Xmas holidays and new year with Liz here in Puerto Vallarta. The place is beautiful and the owner Beverly has taken great pity on this vagabond drifter by renting it to us for practically nothing.

Liz arrived on the 12th and since then we've been working the transition back into sharing a space together. It's nice to love and be loved.

On the way down south I stopped in the small surf town of Sayulita for a night. There I met a beautiful B.C. couple who were also on a spiritual journey south to Peru where they wanted to connect with a Shaman they know through a friend of a friend back in B.C. Canada. All of us wandering gypsy souls out looking for ourselves, fundamental truth, values, and a new way of seeing. It gives me hope to be reminded that the world is filled with seekers, regardless of whether they are on the road or back at home.

After picking up Liz we headed back up to Sayulita since I was instantly clausterphobic in PV and felt the need to take entry to this tiny tourist city slowly. Back in Sayulita Liz and I swam in the waves, talked about my project with some folks looking for leads, and re-connected with my B.C. friends Ray and Natalie.

Back to PV, Ray and Natalie over for dinner the following eve, a day in PV touring around, then decided to hit the road with Ray and Nat for a couple days.

We headed down to the small town of Tenacatita where we did some snorkeling and had intense spiritual discussions about everything from finding your path, staying on your path, politics, war, shamanism, the list goes on and on.. in fact, it went on for days, us all resonating together sharing ideas and maybe affecting change in one anothers personal perspectives.

Then it was off to Malaque to a small RV camp they call the free camp because it only costs 4 USD a day. In Malaque we shared some more and tried new foods with the locals. Liz finally got to indulge her appetite for oysters while we all smiled on not sharing her unsatiable oyster desire. Ray who is working as a photographer and I talked about the fact that the coast traps you in a tourist frame of mind and how there is a strong urge to move inland into "the real" Mexico in search of images. They dropped the idea almost there and then of going all the way to Peru and instead opted to spend more time living and feeling Mexico and Guatemala. I think it is likely a wise choice as they only have 5 weeks and there is sooo much here.

Liz and I decided to head back to PV to regroup and enjoy 'not living in a van'.. since after 3 years it's nice to have a place to call home even if it's temporary. One the way back we got stopped at a military check-point where they searched the van and found one empty and one full shotgun shell on the dash. I picked these up off the ground in Utah as souvenirs.. just like the shells, bones, and other odds and ends adorning Veronica. The soldiers held them up and repeatedly asked me in Spanish "where are your guns!" while Liz with dictionary tried to explain to them that they were souvenirs that I had collected. I smiled said "no guns" and "Me Casa Tu Casa" gesturing to them that they were free to enter any part of my van. Finally they let us go.. offering me back the empty shells, to which I gestured that they better keep them.

It was back to smooth sailing down the highway, and deep metaphysical conversation with Liz, when out of the woods on the side of the highway lept two horses. I slammed on the brakes as they drifted across the highway, everything in slow motion, but too slow in reality it was, as I clipped the second horses back rump sending it flying into the woods. Plastic and pieces of my light flew in every direction, Liz and I looked at each other shaking as I pulled over in a pull-off. I was laughing to cope with the shock... "Holy shit, we just hit a fucking horse.. welcome to Mexico!" After assessing that the van wasn't going to explode and was fine, we walked up the dirt road to greet a rural worker who had watched the whole thing go down. "Was that your horse?" I asked in broken Spanish, "Is it ok?"... he said it wasn't his horse, that it was just a wild horse, and that this was Mexico and these things happen, and everything was ok... or somethign along those lines since it all gets lost in translation. The horse had taken off into the woods likely pumping with adrenaline to live out the rest of its life lame but alive.

We finally made it back to PV, Veronica is leaking some oil and needs a new light, but we're safe and feeling more alive than ever, grateful for the adventure and the teachings we're still left trying to comprehend.

peace,d

PS My digital camera has been on the fritz.. so pictures of the trip south to follow once I get them off Ray.. Here's some from yesterday in the market and one of V after encounter with Cabello Grande ;-)