My sister Jan never returned from our 1988 trip to Mexico
Couldn't make herself leave, didn't want to go home. We left her at the Manzanillo train station, waving us goodbye as the train to Mexicali pulled away at the end of our year and a half explore trip. She's there yet, deeply inbedded, deeply happy,
and still won't come back.

In 1986 we tossed a coin, and a month of either Outward Bound or Mexico became a month of Mexico.
That trip was only Mazatlan to Puerto Vallarta to Barra de Navidad to Manzanillo and back, on chicken busses, winging it for hotels, and eating cheap.
And that one month was a revelation. We were smitten, we were in love. We didn't like English anymore, or Americans or Canadians. We wanted to be Mexicans and speak Spanish and be locals.
Every day was wonderful and we said, "Let's save our money and come down here for a year!"
So we did.

We gave up two Vancouver West End bachelor pads and moved together into a two bedroom Penthouse on Haro street. We hung all our Mexico photos on the wall and played Cumbia music whenever we were home.
We kept each other hyped and that's probably what made us actually succeed in saving the money on time. We were going to have a budget of $500. per month each and that included everything and my everything included my seven year old son, Sean.

Planning our year in Mexico we pored over maps and the $20. a day guidebook. We painstakingly plotted a route that would take us into Belize at the six month mark, via Chiapas, through Chichen Itza, into Chetumal and down along the Caribbean.

We would be mighty adventurers, tough and strong, speakers of the language, at home among the Noble Indians...

(We later found our exact route laid out in a book and the route was called "the gringo trail".)