The small beach community I called home for two months extends in one direction as far as I can walk without going along the beach or onto the hot streets, past the karaoke venue around the corner from Hotel Bahia and ending at Leovy Restaurant with its bamboo and rattan umbrellas. In the other direction it reaches the top of the Malecon boardwalk, about one and a half miles long, I overheard someone say.

My morning begins with a walk on the Malecon, all the way to the end if its not too hot, then coffee under a beach umbrella, served to me by Tito…if Tito is there the restaurant is open.

I sip my morning java while listening to the waves and watching the beauty of the unfolding morning, staying until I become too warm or my body insists it’s time to move. Forty pesos is a miniscule price for this uplifting experience.

From time to time I venture down the beach or into town for music or to my favourite breakfast place. Melaque has retained its simple Mexican tourist town feel, although busier now. The town centre is bustling and fun, quite different from the West Melaque beach energy, the friendly folk at Tito’s Restaurant where we eat and where the open mic shows take place.

Towards the middle of February things begin to change. While a few Canadian and American visitors prefer a late vacation, the long term folks at my hotel begin drifting home. Fewer musicians appear at the Tuesday evening “Jack and Friends” open mic, and the audience shrinks. I keep performing, Jack’s glad to have me I think, some of the other women singers have left, returning to jobs in Canada.

Only a quarter of the rooms at the hotel are occupied now. Short term visitors, mostly Mexican weekenders, will occupy the place from now on the manager tells me.

Last weekend the controversial new “big city” Mexican hotel at the end of the beach was fully occupied by busloads of middle class looking Mexicans from out of town. Other Mexican visitors have settled in for the day at Tito’s beach tables, with carryalls of food and bathing paraphernalia and the ubiquitous giant Coca Cola bottles.

The six month visitors like my music mentor Jack and his partner are still in residence until sometime in April, and the transplanted expats remain. Another great winter season is coming to an end.