Category: Under the Palapa (Page 7 of 7)

#UnderThe Palapa #BuyingaCondoinMexico #Humour

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n his last column, Chris Dalton described Step 3 of buying a condo in Puerto Vallarta: meeting Eddy the Realtor. Today’s column: Step 4.

After a week in the hands of Eddy the Realtor, there had been nothing but disappointing viewings of every conceivable low-end condo. One had every room painted a terrible green for some reason, while another faced a large wall with razor wire on top. There was even a late entry that had a fierce dog inside, making it impossible to gain access.
Eddy called a meeting and with a fixed smile led us through the results of our first week together. In short: No forward motion. In light of that, would we consider loosening the purse strings a tiny bit? I started hyperventilating and said, “Errrrrr,” which I thought was a pretty snappy thing to say under the circumstances, while buying ourselves some time. Michelle said, “Fine, we will do it.” The room began to turn slowly.
After a sleepless night, we (Michelle) decided we would up the amount in order to, as Eddy said, “have a sea view.”
Up the hills we went above the Centro district, and I loved it. This was the real Mexico that we had so yearned for. Up and up and up we went, higher than we had ever been in Puerto Vallarta before. Out we got and into a beautiful building we went. This was more like it. New everything!
However (and I take full responsibility for this), I had forgotten to tell Eddy one other thing: We did not want a car in Mexico.
When I let Eddy in on our little secret, he opened and closed his mouth several times before going catatonic. The sound of grinding teeth filled the foyer of the new condo building with ocean glimpses.
We walked into a beautiful suite with a distant view of the sea. Michelle immediately recalled seeing the same scene on the internet but with a much closer beach. Did you know that the internet sometimes lies? Every place we had looked at was in fact a lie on the ’net, and this was no exception except it was very new, had a wonderful kitchen and while some way from the Pacific, still had a terrific vista.
There was another realtor waiting for us, a huge ex-pat from Seattle with hands the size of hams. If I thought Eddy’s handshake was severe, it was but a weak relative compared to this man’s. When I retrieved my limb it had a point on it as well as being useless.
I tucked into my pocket. I realized I had grown used to the soft Mexican hand greeting rather the vise-like squeeze. Hal, as this behemoth was called, would answer all questions one way, a shouted “Outstanding!”
“How is the neighbourhood?”
“Outstanding!” etc., etc.
The truth of the matter was we loved it. It was everything we had dreamed of, apart from the obvious need for a vehicle of some sort. The tiling and kitchen were fantastic, as was the size of the living space in general (2,000 square feet) plus laundry, two bedrooms, two bathrooms and a marvellous balcony. This was it! Except for the car problem.
I suggested to Eddy that he drive down the hill a ways and we would follow on foot to see if the steep hill was walkable. Hal shouted “Outstanding!” while Eddy eyed me suspiciously but nodded his agreement after a hopeful smile from my wife. Eddy’s car shot out of the parking lot and down the hill as Michelle and I made our way over the broken concrete and past the street dogs lying in the sun.
My 65-year-old ankles took a dim view of the loose cobblestones while Michelle was on the verge of vertigo as the street wound past mounds of garbage and playing children. How those kids could frolic with soccer balls at that angle is a question for the ages, because if the little goaltender missed a ball, he would have to go to Acapulco to retrieve it.
By this time we realized that as much as we were in love with the “Outstanding!” condo, it was too far up the hill without transport. Michelle started sobbing. I had failed on our last day.
Suddenly, as we reached the halfway point of our tearful journey, we found ourselves beside a building still under construction. It was a condo nevertheless with a “For sale” sign wafting in the wind. We were still looking at the sign when Eddy appeared, wondering what had happened to us. Michelle pointed lustily at the sign, stabbing the air in front of the realtor’s nose. “What about this one?” she stammered.
“Too expensive for you guys,” he said.
I know a cue when I hear one. “Never mind, maybe we can make a deal?” I said. Eddy quickly phoned the developer, Sergio, who delightedly told us to go in and have a look. It turned out by some miracle that he had built the condo we had just seen and loved further up the mountain and this was a virtual duplicate. Had our luck changed? Was this the motherlode, and half the distance to Banderas Bay? I swear I could hear a choir.
In two shakes we entered the model suite on the first floor just above the pool, with Michelle kissing me full on the lips. I felt manly-manly for the first time in weeks. I stuck out my pigeon chest, all a-glow.
However as Eddy and my wife burbled on and on about the laundry room, splash tiles and gas stove, I took a break and wandered up the stairs looking for the top, just as a matter of interest, and to escape the domestic chat below.
What happened next made everything worthwhile.
Next column Nov. 19: “The buy”.

Step 3 to buying a condo in Mexico- Vallarta Daily-

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Step #3 to buying our condo in Puerto Vallarta. There he was, standing in the lobby of the Hacienda Hotel and Spa, the man I had been talking to for more than three months, Eddy the Realtor (not his real name). A strong, beautiful man, originally from Calgary, with a winning smile, perfect Spanish and a crushing handshake. “Owwwwww,” I said as he let go of my withered limb. My wife Michelle blushed with delight as he took hers and gently kissed it. “Isn’t he nice?” she said while I nursed my hand.

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Christopher Dalton’s step #2 in (2011) buying a condo in #Puerto Vallarta…..

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When last I left you, I was just coming to grips with maybe buying a place in Puerto Vallarta. I had just been through a very wet film production (Girl in Progress, starring Eva Mendes) in rainy and cold Vancouver.
I had started trolling PV real estate, which, with what I saw on wonderful sites and having just turned 65, was what can only be described as “senior porn.” My old eyes scanned hundreds of beautiful condos and homes in unbelievable settings, with whales and dolphins dropping by for tea between November and March. I felt saved.

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#VallartaDaily #MexicoHumour #BuyingCondoPuertoVallarta.

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Published September 24, 2014
Christopher Dalton’s first trip to Mexico sets the wheels in motion for his life Under the Palapa.

 

 

Before the autumn of 2010 I had only been to Mexico once, and that was to supervise the production of a movie in 1986 called Remo Williams starring Joel Grey and Fred Ward for Orion Studios.

I spent the entire time either at the studio complex in Mexico City or clinging to the side of a volcano a hundred miles away. I admit that that was not the best or most normal way to be introduced to a country. Furthermore, the movie was a financial disappointment, although it now has an avid following amongst film enthusiasts.

Cut to 2010, when a friend of my wife announced that she had two extra tickets to Puerto Vallarta at an all-inclusive and would we like to go? Once I was assured that I would not have to swim with dolphins or sit on endless boat trips throwing up my lunch, I agreed. My wife and her friend should do all those things while I and the other husband would read our spy novels and watch the inebriated (mostly) Canadians snore by the giant pool.

We arrived and the 10 days flew by with, as advertised, complete relaxation, except the part where the time-share people attacked us at the airport. I have not had so many hands touch me since the army.

Our suite was perfect, and so was the view. However the one thing I found odd about the hotel was that every dinner would be transformed into a different culture with the appropriate food.

For instance the first evening was Hawaiian Night, with some crazed hotel workers trying to dance, followed 24 hours later by Italian Night with the same workers dressed as what seemed to be gyrating prostitutes and gigolos, with an out-of-control motor scooter carrying a petrified priest (the guy from the front desk). Next came Polynesian Night, which, surprisingly, reminded us of the not-so-long-ago Hawaiian Night with the now familiar cast.

Many nations were portrayed but with some, we could not put our finger on who they were exactly. Lots of guesses, though (Latvian?). All our table really wanted was a Mexican Night, but there was never any sign of that.

The French equivalent arrived with more women of the night and sleek escorts, but this time the food (coq vin) took out fully half of the guests. It was a poorly attended breakfast on what was our last day. We drank only tea before making a dash for the airport. I thought I would never return.

Cut to spring 2011 on the set of a movie, Girl in Progress, in Vancouver, where the worst rain on record poured down upon us daily. The U.S. cast and producers were furious at me because I had promised them weather not unlike Los Angeles. I pointed out that I had not exactly said “sunny” weather, but this was met by angry shouts about “filthy Vancouver floods.”

It was also the time of the National Hockey League riot, when hundreds of fans rampaged through the streets after the Vancouver Canucks lost the Stanley Cup final to the Boston Bruins.

Somehow I started looking online for real estate in Puerto Vallarta, that being the last place I had seen the sun. I sat depressed and alone in my trailer (I was the co-producer), scrolling through condos and rentals with beautiful pictures of the sea and sand. I phoned my wife one day and suggested a real-estate romp in PV when the movie was finished.

When she recovered consciousness – she thought I had hit my head or was delirious – I told her I had found a Canadian realtor in PV and he was standing by. “I’ll book the tickets!!!” she roared, and that was that. We were on our way to what was going to be our greatest adventure, buying our dream home in Puerto Vallarta.

Unfortunately I did not ask the realtor, a great fellow by the way, “Will you be having a breakdown while we are there?”

I recommend that for the opening question to any house hunter, because ours did. But I will save that for my next column.

Copyright Christopher Dalton 2014
[email protected]

Tell us what you think in the comments section below.
Written by: Christopher Dalton
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7 Comments
Kathy O’Brien
September 24, 2014 at 9:11 pm-Reply
Looking very forward to more stories…..and a lot of fun stuff
Allan Prout
September 24, 2014 at 9:01 pm-Reply
Good one Chris, always enjoyable when the writer is a friend and looking forward to many more ……
Marlyse Jones
September 24, 2014 at 4:34 pm-Reply
Can’t wait ….
Mark Carter
September 24, 2014 at 1:35 pm-Reply
I look forward to hearing how the first trip to PV went, and how is the agent now?
Mary Kahn
September 24, 2014 at 11:15 am-Reply
Sounds like good fun ahead.

Sheryl Menzies
Sheryl Menzies
September 24, 2014 at 10:06 am-Reply
Cool!

Crista M Rogers
Crista M Rogers
September 24, 2014 at 9:56 am-Reply
very cute…

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Join the Conversation
Andrew LeeAndrew Lee says:
Nina Goodhope Thanks for sharing this great artic …Nina GoodhopeNina Goodhope says:
Andrew Lee did you read this?Jim ButchartJim Butchart says:
Many of us ex-pats have learned PV has excellent h …Chris DaltonChris Dalton says:
It is too small a world to not be engaged with it. …Mary Beth Maria OMary Beth Maria O’Connor says:
I will just take a regular ambulance thanks

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