We had passed by one another briefly my first morning at the guesthouse. He came into the breakfast room just as I was leaving it. The next morning we got to know another a bit better. We, the owner and a couple of other guests, made sport of my wound from my encounter with the Mexican wrestler the previous night.
The day before my departure it was he, myself and the owner at the table. After one of the now familiar social/political cinema discussions he said it was the one day he had nothing concrete planned. I invited him to join me in my excursion to Talquepeque, a venerable small town that had been swallowed up by the city as it expanded.
It is an area of stone streets, turn of the 20th century mansions and lush courtyards. Many of the buildings have been transformed into shops, galleries and restaurants. Some of the shops sell the crafts found in other shops around town and the stalls that line plazas in the city center. Some of the galleries sell pricey art in upscale settings. One gallery specialized in massive religious statues. We wondered aloud about what the size of the market for these items could possibly be and how they could be shipped, let alone fit through the old wooden doors of the gallery. Street vendors also offered wares. 2 men sought money from the crowds in exchange for the caged birds they displayed offering a prayer for them. It seemed to me that if one wanted to pray one could do so for free without the assistance of a feathered friend, but who am I to question local customs.
We stopped into what, at first glance, looked like a small silver shop, eventually being led by a saleswoman through several case lined rooms not visible from the street. The pieces were from Tasco, Mexico's "Silver City". After looking at several I settled on a lapel pin, an Art Nouveau inspired figure of a nude woman. We returned to the beautiful sunshine of the afternoon, strolling down the stone street shopping, admiring the sometimes centuries old architecture and sharing personal stories.
We stopped for lunch at a sprawling complex where 18 separate restaurants with separate menus and kitchens share space. Tables spread from the sidewalk street side to an inner courtyard with a gazebo in its center. Folk dancers performed in the gazebo as I sipped a glass of cool white wine and we enjoyed the excellent Mexican fare I had grown accustomed to during my stay.
Later at the guesthouse the two of us sat at a table on the 2nd floor gallery setting up Facebook and text message contacts with one another. It was a bit more complicated than it should have been. I joked about what happens when you have 2 60ish year old men attempting to utilize I phone technology.
My new friend left for I drink and I went to the massage appointment the guesthouse owner had arranged for me in one of the rooms of the house. The masseuse was well trained and his manipulations left me blissfully wobbly. It was a most pleasant way to end my stay in Guadalajara.
