By Jack Brummet, Bus, Plane, Ferry, Taxi, Autorickshaw, and Train Editor
Today we went to visit our long lost friend Pegeen White who lives in Puerta Vallarta. We had a great time as she showed us the parts of PV a native sees (the parts we had never seen before as tourists visiting from Bucerias for one day). It was a fantastic day of hours of walking, poking around, saying hello to various of Pegeen's friends in restaurants, on the street, and in doorways, and exploring, climbing hills and visiting shops, parks, the river, and la playa.
The fun continued on the bus back to Bucerias. We took one bus from her neighborhood and caught a Bucerias bus on the highway out of PV. You often see sleek, modern, air-conditioned buses along that route. But they are generally not destined for Bucerias/Punta del Mita/Sayulita. The bus for Bucerias is almost always a bus that has seen better days--not dangerously malfunctioning or hideously tattered, but a bus whose best days lie sometime long in the past. Other buses have clearly legible analog destination signs that the driver can flip by turning a lever. Some even have slick digital signs. The buses headed headed north from PV generally use an analog white shoe polish destination system (see illustration below).
As soon as we mounted the worn steps, I knew it was going to be a great ride. The bus driver dug around in his wooden box to hand me a few pesos in change, and at the same time swung the bus around a water truck taking a left turn. As soon as he cleared this objective hazard, he fumbled with, and answered his cell phone. As he chatted briefly with whoever was on the other end of the line, he violently veered the bus back over to the right lane and onto the parking strip as he handed me my change. A woman was flagging the bus down. Probably one of the sweetest things about buses here is that, while you can catch them at officially designated bus stops, you can also catch them anywhere else. In short, the entire road is a twelve mile long ad hoc bus stop. This is one of the most charming things about Mexican buses, and one of the most maddening when you are in a hurry, or tired. . .
As we made our way along the road, we not only stopped at the official stops, but at twenty more unofficial stops.
a picture of just about every bus driver in Mexico's co-pilot
Our bus driver was in his early 20's, and seemed like a great guy. At almost every official and unscheduled stop, a friend or acquaintance would come up the steps and chat him up. These exchanges often involved small sums of money given to the friend. These sums came out of the wooden transit fare box. At one stop, another guy walked up the steps of the bus. He and the driver had an amusing conversation that ended with the bus driver handing him a few pesos. The young man walked off, and returned in a couple of minutes, trying to cadge a few more pesos. The bus driver said something like, "
get me a few more passengers, and yeah, I'll give you some money. " The young man rounded up a few more Bucerias and Punta del Mita riders. The bus driver handed him more pesos from the transit kitty. I just read this to Keelin and she said the kid told the driver he would not get off the bus until he got some more money, nor would he step on the bus and actually pay. He would just linger at the entrance and block anyone from getting on. It was a good natured hold-up with lots of joshing and smiling. It was a game. And it was hilarious. Then the guy said he'd ride along to the next stop, where he also rounded up additional passengers for one more payout. We were back on the road for another minute or so and picked up a cute twenty-something woman. She may have handed him a transfer, but it looked like she rode gratis.
As we continued, every mile or so, the driver would make a wild turn around a turning vehicle, usually cradling a phone on his shoulder, and trying to make change for the latest passenger.
Back on the highway, we headed away from Puerta Vallarta, and there were fewer people not at the official stops. However, at almost every official stop from here on, a guy with a clipboard—apparently some low-level transit system functionary/apparatchik—would step on board, do a fist bump with the driver and chat back and forth for a few minutes, after which the driver would dig back in the box and hand the clipboard guy some coins. There was always a lot of good natured chatter and best wishes. This happened five or six times before we got to Bucerias and stepped off onto the highway's shoulder to cross the street.
As we exited, there were four people working the cars on the highway stopped at the light. One person was selling bouquets of local flowers; another had a bucket of water and soft drinks; one person sold soccer jerseys; and another was performing various tricks with a flaming stick. And then we stepped onto the calm, quiet, verdant side streets of Bucerias.
---o0o---
