Sojourn to the Other Gulf Coast harkens back to simpler times

LA PESCA, Tamaulipas — We coasted into this ragtag fishing village just after dark, and there wasn't a lot to see. The last fishermen had long ago tied up their boats and the seagulls had bedded down for the night, wherever seagulls do. The only beachcombers were a pair of stragglers trying to give a truck a jump-start. Beijing tour china travel
Ever since we had left Monterrey at noon, crossing through the dry mesquite-covered hills of Nuevo Leon and Tamaulipas states, my mouth had been watering for fresh seafood and a fresh breeze, Gulf Coast-style. As we puttered down the main drag, tiny bodegas selling mariscos and pescado advertised their fare in colorful, hand-painted lettering on the walls, and I was envisioning a lovely seafood platter. But prospects did not seem good: The only businesses left open on the main drag were a mini-super (Mexico's answer to the convenience store) and a little café that served taquitos and hamburgersBut then we met Maria Salamé. And then I knew why I had made my way 500 miles south to the other Gulf Coast. Not the one most Texans visit: the hotel-studded South Padre, or Port Aransas with its condos and beer joints, or Galveston with its lacy Victorian past. I was looking for a place where I could sit down with someone like Maria, this wife of a fisherman, and enjoy a simple, home-cooked meal from a simpler time. And here in La Pesca, I found it.
"Oh, I'm sorry, you're so late," she told us apologetically as her two daughters looked on and nodded their assent. "You can get a hamburguesa down there," she added, pointing down the street. "But if you want mariscos, you have to get here early this time of year." It was the night before New Year's Eve, and I thought we'd be seeing the last of the Christmas vacationers; but here the tourist season doesn't begin in earnest until Semana Santa, Holy Week. So we were definitely off-season.
But seeing the look of profound disappointment on our faces, Maria offered to cook us up a meal in the kitchen of her tiny two-room house. We gratefully accepted.
What followed was one of the most delightful and memorable meals of our lives, as Maria and her two daughters joined us for conversation and we scarfed down two plates of trout fillets with salad. Seeing that we were still hungry, she offered a second course: shrimp cocktail, with fresh avocado, tomato and onion. The buttery taste of the avocado mixed with the crisp fresh shrimp lingers with me still, but not as much as the warmth of these three women. Maria, whose husband was a shrimper, confessed that she was embarrassed to invite us into her whitewashed cinderblock home — " Me da pena," she explained. "We were going to remodel, but it's taking us a long time to do itThe same could be said for all of La Pesca, really. This beach town has been eyed by developers from Monterrey for years, and pieces of it have been parceled up for resale as condos and vacation homes for the Regiomontanos (a slang term for a person from Monterrey). Because, while the folks from Mexico City have their Acapulco, and the Gualalajarans have Puerto Vallarta, the people of Mexico's third largest city have no developed beach to call their own. But now the rumors of a bustling new resort community may be more than just the local chisme , or gossip. smoke alarm wow power leveling Two years ago, then-President Vicente Fox declared the Laguna Madre tidal estuary, which stretches for more than 100 miles south of Brownsville, a Natural Protected Area. But last November, Fox reportedly approved a major tourist development for this sensitive coastal area. That's why most people believe that La Pesca's days as a sleepy fishing village are numbered. And that's why conservationists are worried about the Laguna — which is far from pristine, but at least offers a vital habitat for fish, migratory birds, and rare and endangered species, such as the Kemp's Ridley sea turtle. And locals worry that while the foreign investment may bring jobs, it also may end up pricing them out of their own homes and livelihoods.
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Sunrise was damp and rose-colored over the Laguna Madre, with its soaring and diving pelicans, its stately egrets and a host of other waterfowl. Two young women moved to the rhythm of the tortilla machine in the one-room tortillería on the banks, and the town slowly roused itself to life. On the beach, a lone stray dog begged for food with sad eyes, and a pair of old buddies down for the weekend from Ciudad Victoria cast their lines off the pier. We hit the road early and were rewarded with a sight that took my breath away: As we left town, headed down the country road toward Coastal Highway 180, we saw a slough dotted with cotton candy pink. It was a whole flock of roseate spoonbills, maybe 60 of them, rising from the water in unison. I was thrilled; I'd never seen anything like it.
We wound our way onward through the rolling coastal plain. In the distance to our right rose the dramatic blue Sierra Madre, cloaked in a hazy mist; to the left, the more gentle coastal range. wow gold wow lvl China tour
We passed the most common of Mexican roadside sights, a burro grazing on the side of the road, and I was charmed. Suddenly I saw the first pointed peak of a volcano. "Stop! Let's get a photo!" I cried out. Altug Icilensu, my photographer and travel companion, quickly complied — a bit too quickly for the shoulderless road, and we found ourselves careening uncontrollably toward a parked SUV with a Mexican sightseer standing on either side, regarding us with wide eyes. Altug swerved away from them and toward the gully; I saw our entire trip — indeed our lives — flashing before our eyes, and then there was a thump as the front tire skidded to a stop against a rock. Miraculously, both vehicles and their inhabitants were unscathed.
I emerged, shaking, and apologized profusely to the two men, as I was the designated Spanish-speaker of our crew. "Are you OK?" I asked, breathlessly. "Estamos bien," laughed one of the men, gesturing toward me. "But how are you?" wow gold fibreclay travel china
Their general goodwill and concern for the well being of this random pair of gringos was a recurring theme during our journey. They saw us on our way with a gentle warning and a smile, and I reflected on how a corresponding error on their part on the other side of the border might have been met by a pair of Americans. I doubted they'd have met the same degree of good humor and grace.