A Series of Unfortunate Events

It's been an eventful few days. I spent an entire day exploring the mining city of Zacatecas. It's at an altitude of almost 7,000 ft., which I discovered only after wondering why I was having so much difficulty breathing all day. Incredibly beautiful place, due to its colonial legacy and all the silver it has produced. I toured the old mine, whcih was a bit like a ride at Disneyland - we had to put on hairnets underneath our hardhats, and fake bats hung from the ceiling. I took a cable car to the top of the biggest hill in town to watch the sunset. I rapturously drank in the surrounding beauty. I feel like I'd be very content living here.
From Zacatecas I headed west and down towards the coast. The first leg of the trip was to Guadalajara. After comparing the many buslines offering tickets, I decided to go with the cheapest one available. I'd be saving four bucks. How bad could it be? Once underway, I was nodding off a bit when I vaguely became aware that we had broken down. Cheap bus, go figure. So I glanced out the window and noticed we were straddling a set of train-tracks. Not very wise, but I figured the driver knew what he was doing. Suddenly I heard what might possibly have been the most frightening sound in the world at that moment - a train whistle echoing towards us down the tracks, and growing louder by the second. Immediately the passengers rose up and surged forward down the aisle, fighting each other to get off. Pandemonium doubltlessly would have ensued, but at that very moment the bus miraculously started. It lurched off the tracks just as the train sped by.
Maybe I should take the more expensive bus from now on. Any way, I arrived alive in Guadalajara, where I spent the night. It's a fascinating big city, but I left with a bitter taste in my mouth since it took me three hours just to get to the bus station the next morning. In fact, it was to be a day of bus troubles (though thankfully no more train troubles). I finally arrived in Puerto Vallarta hours after I had told my friends I'd be meeting them. Once I got into town it took another three busses just to arrive at their condo. Mind you, it was only one ten minute bus ride down the road, but I just couldn't seem to get there. I even gave one bus driver the name of the place, only to get dropped off at an entirely different hotel. But my reward for the days and perils of bus travel had finally arrived: A week long stay on the beach, the first nights of which would be spent in a luxurious two-story condo belonging to a friend of a friend. The picture below is our view of the beach from the balcony. I've seen many beautiful places on my travels, but now I've truly arrive in paradise.