After enjoying Belize for two months, I took an overnight bus to Tulum, Mexico, on the Yucatan Peninsula and I’ve been here almost a week. Next, I’ll bus to Cancun before flying to England. Bye bye to the Tropics, but I’m enjoying them now.,
Patricia, The Greatest Hurricane Show That (N)Ever was! Or, Stalking The Elusive Not-Yeti In Central Mexico!
Dateline by Linda J. Brown: San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, the day that Hurricane Patricia didn’t exactly hit much of anything!
Well, that was NOT interesting! I’m still waiting for my date with that Brutal Beaut, so-called Patricia; but she’s a no-show. I arrived in this small, colonial, mountain town, a little over a week ago; never realizing that a brazen, climatological hussy had set her sights on central Mexico, aiming to make it her slave before swaggering on to conquer Texas.
I had me some competition! But, I wanted to conquer this country with love and friendship, not dastardly deadliness. What to do? What to do? Did she plan to wash me out? I prepared for midnight evacuation. She seemed unbeatable and the broken records said so.
This marauder gave no warning, but secretly bellied up to Mexico’s Pacific Coastline sandbars, all swagger and braggadocio; shouting about being the Biggest Hurricane In History! That audacious claim was confirmed by meters and millibars splayed about on CNN and BBC, advising preparation and/or evacuation in less-than-zero hours. This Wayward Woman came barreling onto our radar screens with six-gun shooters spewing record-breaking statistics to bust our balls and anything else she could get her hands on….. roofs, roads, beaches, bridges and muddy mountainsides.
Take no prisoners! Give no surcease! Big Mamma’s here! Bow down in worship and wonder and then, run for your lives!
So, 10,000 coastal tourists and a few lucky locals did just that, busing seven hours inland to Guadalajara, leaving beach honeymoons behind for cold gym floors. At sundown, Friday, Patreeesia staggered ashore, all red and angry orange whirlwinds on underground weather channels.
Oh, such a Bad Asp she was! Gonna give Cleopatra a run for her money in the history books, alright!
Wham, Bam, Thank you, Mam! I wondered when she’d arrive at San Miquel, halfway across the country on her stated agenda. Maybe midnight? Well, she’d surely wake me, so I went to bed. Listening with half an ear, I schlepped to the window a few times in the night to check the sugar cane. Was it bending in the wind? Was rain pelting my hotel yet? At last, the sun came up to uneventfulness. Only clouds, like far-flung scarves; or an old lady’s long, grey hair.
Ah, Patrice, have I sensed your age? Are you all bluster and fancy talk? Can you no longer Get It Up?
What? Category One? This small mountain chain took it out of you so soon? According to your press release, you were “The only Category Five to ever be! And yadda, yadda, yadda. Now, look at you! Well, forget that…..I can’t even SEE you! The sky is blue! The cane is quiet! Come on, show me whatcha’ got!”
So, I left the window, disappointed. Until, I heard the low, slow, rumble of Power approaching. Okay, that’s better! Hey, I’m from Florida. I know my hurricanes! This one hasn’t shown me a thing, so far….. but now, maybe she’ll live up to her reputation and all the press reviews. Those revving rumbles sounded weird. But good! It was time to check them out; open the window and stick my head way, far west, peering in the storm’s direction.
What? Oh no! How super silly a comeuppance! Queen P has lost her crown to a whole batch of motorcycle riders, just launching from my hotel for their daily ride!
That does it! Let’s fire up the electronics in here and get the news again….such as it is! Hardly a mention of the partycrasher, now. Just mop-up remarks like: “Non-catastrophic!” “No deaths reported!” and “Much less damage than anyone expected!”
Patricia is going out like a lamb. She’s made the record books, alright; but maybe… just maybe… that was a swan song; instead of a siren song of things to come.
Possibly, she simply took a shortcut, and was only bringing buckets of water to sun-parched Texas, all along. She was a servant instead of a serpent! Her bark was bigger than her bite! All show and no substance!
“Asp, and ye shall receive!” Right, Cleopatra? Your sister’s gone patrician. She’s a lady, now! She only tiptoes through our occupied territories in her new role as our Rain Goddess. But, not here in San Miquel, well-known for its rainy tendencies. This Saturday is sunny and hot, just like it planned to be.
Hey, maybe she’ll run for President! I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s a windbag, that’s for sure. Just an offshore gas well, blown its top and gone bananas. What else is new? Even at record-breaking proportions! Show’s over, Folks! There’ll be no soggy circus today!
I’d like to think that hurricanes, in general, are So Yesterday! Not like my Florida high school years, when we scheduled happy hurricane parties to ride them out. We sure wouldn’t have liked this Record-Breaker who spent her wad just wading ashore! What’s the fun in that?
But, in my grown-up self, I’m happy that’s the case and that everyone who went to bed last night, will also get up this morning. And home and family will be intact.
Millenniums change things and here’s the evidence:
Weirdly, there’s a cluster of simultaneous, odd weather anomalies today, in different places on the globe. Smaller hurricanes or cyclones, like rabid animals come to say goodbye before dissipating and following in their Leader’s wake. That must have been what Patricia was trying to tell us.
“It’s over Folks! We Aliens won’t be back! Y’all behave now! We were only trying to help with overpopulation and clean up your nest a little bit. But the Big Boss says to let you do it on your own!
Ta Ta, now! I’ll just tiptoe on along, ’cause, I’ve got a thirsty row to hoe in the Lone Star State! Here’s a silver bullet! If anybody asks, just say it’s from the Lone Stargate Stranger! HiYo, Silver! Away!”