Maids, Dogs, Jacuzzis, and Travel
What I Did with Ten Days Away From Home
By Don Adams © Don Adams 2002

Hey buckaroos, just got back from a short run to the Texas metroplex and I thought I might as well update you on some easy ways to get things taken care of while you're travelin'. Most of these tips are legal on both sides of the border.

I used to not worry too much about leavin' things unguarded when I was gone since I live out in a smaller town, with high rock walls around the property, a loud yappin' dog that might bite, and good honest Mexican neighbors on all sides. That situation modified itself after the last time I returned from several days at the beach at Melaque and discovered that someone had tried to jimmy open the walk-through door in my driveway gate on the Carretera side.

As in most places, a few little cholos and wanna-be street thugs have begun to run loose in the neighborhood so I wasn't terribly surprised. However, for an extended trip on which I intended to take Pirata, the One-eyed Wonder Dog, I felt I needed some stay at home security, so I asked my maid Rosa to keep an eye on things for me.

She normally does anyway but this was a good opportunity for her to pick up some extra cash as well as catch up with some of the chores she normally doesn't get to on a regular basis. She lives just down the street about seventy-five yards so it was easy for her and her daughter and granddaughter to come each evenin' to spend the night and watch TV. It worked out well for all of us.

T and I had both decided to take our dogs with us. T has a standard poodle, and those of you who know Pirata describe him as a "Benji-dog". Most are too kind to add "Porky" to his description. Or mine. Anyway, in an extended cab pick-up space is at a premium so we had to make some modifications. I went over to Chapala and had some lumber cut at the carpenter's shop. I got a large piece of plywood and some 4x4 legs cut to my specifications and then screwed them together to form a flat platform to fit over the backseat to provide a stable surface on which the dogs could lie. I then went to the upholsterer by Christiana Park and had him make a covered foam pad to fit. Trust me on this one, those boys traveled a lot more comfortably than we did.

I also had a lockin' toolbox installed across the bed so that we could carry our luggage in it, and we were ready to roll.

I'm not plannin' to give you a mile-by-mile travelogue here but I want to mention some things that we found to reduce a bit of travel stress and make the trip a bit more enjoyable. First, a lot of folks obsess about travelin' with dogs. Here's some advice to both increase your comfort level and reduce your anxiety about where to seek lodgings. I'm sure some of youguys and gals are familiar with "quickies" or other forms of adultery or sportin' activity. Well, Mexicanos a treat for you that the rest of us can also take advantage of. You'll see signs readin' "Motel" or"Auto Hotel".

These places will have tall walls around them. For privacy. For security. For relatively low cost. For short-term trysts. Or for the occasional adventurous gringo road-warrior. Now some of them are quite nice, and some are dumps, so you need to shop around. One of the important things for our shared situation here is that most of them will allow you to bring your dogs in. I'll tell you a lot more as we go along so stay tuned.

We had decided prior to leavin' that we were going to see some different scenery this time so we piddled around and took our time, but due to a major miscalculation we ended up much closer to the border the first evenin' than we had planned, so we ended up spendin' the night in a motel in Monterrey. We stopped at a nearby Soriana first, though and bought some white trash dinner goodies and some raw hamburger for the dogs, and then settled in for the evenin'.

Let me explain a couple of procedural matters to you regardin' these "hot sheet" establishments. When you drive in you'll usually be greeted by someone on foot who will immediately direct you to a room, or alternatively, you'll look at the office window and someone will hold up a card with a room number printed on it and someone will meet you at that room as you pull up. You'll notice that each room will have it's own private garage attached so that you can exit your vehicle in privacy, and out of the weather, in case of rain.

Some of these places will have solid garage doors and some will have shower curtains hangin' in the openings. The degree of security you require will determine how suitable you find the options available to you. This is somethin' to consider if you don't want to unload a bunch of valuables every time you stop for the night. See how helpful this already is?

And in regard to security, I know a few single women who stay at these places when travelin' alone. Or together.

So anyway, whoever is there to direct you to your room will also give you the walk-through of all the wonders of the facility. Prior to actually pullin' into the garage you need to ask one question---"yacuzzi?". You want a room with a whirlpool. Trust me, bubba. If one's available, pay the few bucks extra and take advantage of it. There's nothin' like fillin' that thing with hot water and settlin' in for a good soak and water-jet massage after a day in the saddle. Let me just mention a couple of things here that you should take as seriously as a strange rash on your brandin' iron.

First, the floors are usually very slick polished marble or tile. Wet and marble or tile do not mix well. Some of these motels, the more expensive, supply a couple of pairs of flimsy rubber slip-ons which are quite adequate for the limited use to which you'll put them. I suggest bringin' your own. And next, there may be small bottles of shampoo sittin' on the ledge of the Jacuzzi. Do not, under any circumstances, ever, ever, for any reason whatsoever pour one of those into the whirlpool to make bubbles.

Trust me, I can guarantee you that if Lawrence Welk used a Jacuzzi to produce bubbles, a four ounce bottle would have lasted through his entire career, with enough left after retirement to have provided well for all his successors. As long as those jets are pumpin', soap's happenin'. Don't even think about it. No, ladies it's NOT romantic. Nor relaxin'. Another huge advantage of this choice of roadside stops is that you'll normally be sleepin' on a very good quality, although very firm, king-size bed. The pillows may be another matter in some cases but those of us who run the roads SoB know to carry a pillow, a blanket, a washcloth, drinkin' water, toilet paper, and a towel, don't we?

Some of these places will lay out as many as six large towels for you, but it's more common to find two. None, as we all know, will provide a washcloth, but they'll all give you soap, shampoo, and a couple of small bottles of water.

One even laid out a matched set of condoms. Personalized. The lavender package on the bedside table read "Don" even though I have no idea how they knew my name or how they had time to prepare for my unannounced arrival.

Oh, I forgot to mention that they're not big on ID in these places. Nor checks, credit cards, tradin' stamps, or barter. You pay in cash, the guy writes down your license number and vehicle description, and you're in the door.

And you DO need to establish up-front that you intend to spend the entire night and go ahead and pay for twenty-four hours. To further explain, in one place the rates posted were four hours for 200 pesos, 8 hours for 320 pesos, or 24 hours for 400 pesos. Unless you wanted a Jacuzzi suite, in which case the prices were 6 hours for 400 pesos or 24 hours for 650 pesos. For two people. Extra guests must pay an additional charge but the dogs stay free. Just get an agreement on both time and rate unless you enjoy getting' rousted out at some un-Godly hour of the pre-dawn.

And these places are not set up for comin' and goin' so you need to be ready to settle in when you check in, hence our earlier visit to the grocery section before we gave it up for the day. Another concern, if you're travelin' with pets, is whether there are any grassy areas inside the motel compound. Some of your little critters won't potty on concrete, as you've already learned. My advice is that even though they allowed you in with the animals, it might be a good idea not to get too flaunty about it. And you should also understand that, for obvious reasons, the vast majority of these places are located either in the outskirts of town, or actually several miles outside of town.

Just one more thing for now and we'll move on to price comparisons. In a couple of places we stayed I had a bit of difficulty parkin' the truck. One garage was wide enough that I could angle in a gain and bit of extra room, and one was a bit short until I crunched the window-mounted AC unit in just a bit with my bumper. We left quickly the next mornin'.

Okay, price comparisons. Several months ago T and I stayed at a four-star hotel in Colima. Huge room, massive bath appointed with elegant fixtures and with a large two-person Jacuzzi tub, out-dated but very classy furniture, air conditionin', TV, and room service for 1300 pesos, bargained down to 900 pesos. The parkin' was in an attended lot about a half-block away. No dogs. They stayed home on that trip. It really wasn't that much nicer than some of the "hot sheeters" we stayed in.

On this trip, we stayed at a "four-star" hotel in Ciudad Valles. Outdoor parkin' on premises with the cars guarded by an attendant who showed up to get his propina as soon as we settled in. King-size mid-quality bed, TV, butt ugly furniture (remember the Honeymooners?), pee-warm shower with no tub, two skimpy towels, AC, and extremely lovely grounds. Unfortunately much lovelier than the room. Cost? An outrageous 1300 pesos with no chance of bargainin', but there was no trouble about the dogs. There was plenty of grass for them to enjoy when we took them for walkies, although Atty did try to visit the folks in the lobby. To answer your question, we were tired, lost, and fed-up. Any port in a storm, I guess.

Laredo provided lodgin' at a favorite of many border-crossers, the Red Roof Inn. It cost $63 US for a nice room with a king-size bed, TV, AC, and easy walkin' proximity to a number of restaurants and fast-food establishments. We walked a couple of blocks to a large chain-operated grocery store and bought some fresh fruit for our dinner and some meat for the boys. The fruit was pre-packaged in the store and was all spoiled. Evidently, the meat was okay because the guys wiped it all out in a hurry.

The pups? We didn't ask. We just checked in, went on to the room, and later took them out for their walk. We found out later that their policy is to allow small pets.

To answer your next question, it's easy to find. Along with 63,000 others along I-35 leadin' to the near-by border. Findin' a good room in Laredo is not a chore. Findin' one with secured parkin' facilities is, but most are well lighted.

The only other place we stayed in the U.S., other than with friends or relatives, was Lake Jackson, Texas, near my old stompin' grounds out at Surfside. We stayed at a recently refurbished La Quinta for $90 U.S. King-size bed, nicely appointed, with TV, AC, lots of hot water, and enough chemical residue and fumes emanatin' from the carpet, curtains, and paint to keep us queasy for much of the next day.

Again, we didn't ask about the dogs, and the lady down the way didn't ask about her cats either. That sure seems to be the simplest way, doesn't it?

We did have two less than wonderful experiences in Mexico on the way back. In Morelia, our last stop before home, we got in late and ended up in a fairly Spartan place because the really nice "hot sheeter" down the road turned us away because of the dogs. The El Greco was only 200 pesos a night though. King-size bed, TV, built-in concrete furniture, AC not required. No problem in regard to the dogs.

We drove down to KFC before we turned in and sated our unsophisticated appetites with chicken and mashed potato(e)s. Pick the version you like back there because I'm in no mood to suffer the same types of abuse Dan Quayle was subjected to.

A&P shared our bounty, a welcome respite I'm sure, from their regular dog chow.

I'm not forgettin' the Jacuzzi. There was one there. A really big one. I spent quite a bit of time relaxin' in it and readin', despite the fact that the water was four-day-old corpse cold. T wisely stayed away. The dogs seemed to be perfectly happy with everything.

And then there was the Venus in Queretero. I'll be goin' back to Queretaro at some point I'm sure. In a full set of shackles and at gunpoint. Don't think that this is not a beautiful town full of friendly folks and all the services you could expect anywhere. I've been there before and really liked it, and I know the expats who live there adore the place. As unfair as it may seem, those things no longer matter to me.

As we were enterin' town on Highway 45 we were struck by airborne fumes so strong that I was forced to pull over until I could stop coughin'. T covered up as well as possible and I put my hand over my mouth until I could clear out of the area, but the odor stayed with us and totally defeated any idea of rest that night. It's been several days now and I still have a slight nausea and a tightness in my chest. I'm going to the doctor on Monday. Maybe I've developed an allergy to the place, but right now I'm not willing to risk it again, even though we did have a lovely breakfast, with the dogs, at a small café on one of the small "plazas" downtown.

(NOTE: After the fact---when I got to the doctor I was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer. That's the good news. The bad news is that cancer isn't what caused the coughing that night.)

The room? King-size bed, no Jacuzzi available, AC (unused by us), and TV for 250 pesos. All in all a pretty decent room except for an overabundance of large mirrors. I guess I forgot to mention that a major design element of many of these places is an over-use of large plate-glass mirrors. On any number of walls. Or the ceiling. In the John. Almost anywhere you wouldn't necessarily suspect one might be. Sometimes it can be interestin', sometimes erotic, and sometimes quite disconcertin'.

Like the TV. If you're a fundamentalist minister or spouse of one, have any sort of intimacy phobia, extreme heart or respiratory conditions, sexual performance issues, or are just dog-damn tired, don't turn on the TV. Think about where you are and trust me on this one. On the other hand, if you're up for it (no double entendre intended). Betsy bar the door!!!

Which is more or less, what happened at one place we stopped but didn't spend the night. I'm not positive that the guy's name was Betsy, and it wasn't really a door, but he did have a bar down to prevent us from leaving. Which it did. Temporarily.

Anyway, when we pulled into the place, which was about six or eight miles outside a town that I'm not namin', it was way later than we should have been out on the road. As we pulled through the gates and up the rise leadin' into the place we were suddenly confronted by someone turnin' on the high beams of their headlights and temporarily blindin' us. I stopped, and as we sat there we could eventually make out a Jeep Cherokee sittin' ahead of us on the raised part of the driveway. There was only one way in, and no easy way to back out so I pulled on in past four middle-aged men sittin' in the Jeep and laughin'. The only one I got a good look at was the driver. He looked like a really rough and shop-worn version of Gilbert Roland. All were wearin' good-looking cowboy hats and expensive looking leather jackets. Not a group you'd be inclined to mess with as long as you had any sort of grip on sanity and no grip whatsoever on a large-bore automatic handgun.

And the "motel" didn't seem quite kosher either. There were a couple of well-lighted block buildings off to the right that were the center of some frenetic but unidentified activity of several young men, and when we asked to look at a room before we made a decision (actually, a decision that had already been made as far as I was concerned) we were refused. I pulled on down a bit to where I could turn around and headed the truck for the exit but I wasn't fast enough to get out before an automated pipe barrier dropped down.

You still with me? Got the picture? Got any suspicion of what kind of activity might have been underway in there? Believe me on this point, those four cowboys were not baskin' in the happy afterglow of a bit of bareback double-teamin' randiness in one of those motel rooms.

Betsy, or whoever he was, finally came over and started bumblin' about, totally ignorin' my guarantee that I was fully prepared to drive through that bar unless he raised it immediately. Evidently, Gilbert and the boys had instructed him to get our license plate number and a name before we could be released. He copied the number down himself, so that much was correct. Hugh Grant may want to stay clear of anywhere in Mexico for awhile though. After entirely too much stallin' and too many tremblin' conferences with the others, he finally decided to raise the bar and give me the chance to roar off into the night. Which I did. We found a more hospitable place closer to town that night.

And every night for the rest of the trip.