On Friday morning we ventured into Progresso, Mexico. Darold and Sondra drove, and Denny and Linda went along too. None of us had been there since the shootout between the drug cartel guys and the Mexican military that occurred on the main street there a couple weeks ago. (Three drug cartel members and one Mexican military man were killed that day, according to residents in Progresso. The actual release of information from the military was very sketchy.) We had talked to other people that had gone and they indicated they did not feel afraid. Though it is unlikely that it will happen again, nobody can guaranteee that.
While we always park on the American side and walk over the bridge, Darold drives in and parks in a parking lot, attended by a local who watches over your vehicles. That makes it a little easier because your heavy bottles don't have so far to be carried! The streets were all full of a thin layer of muck, due to all the rain in the area on Wednesday. The merchants were out cleaning off the sidewalks.
Three of the group wanted their teeth cleaned, so we stopped first at the dentist office. They could all get in within a short time, so Curt, Sondra and I left them there and went across to the street to get a few things. Curt got his booze and we got some quarts of vanilla. We then took them back to the car a block away so we did not have to carry them around.
Next all of us went to Angies salon. Linda, Sondra and Darold had pedicures. It was a cool day, and I didn't want my feet to freeze, so I just had a manicure. (you can get both for $15). While in Angies, there was a loud pop from outside, and all the people in the pharmacy in front of Angies were nervously looking out the windows! We went for lunch and discovered the source of the pop was a transformer blowing and everyone was without power. At the Red Snapper, they assured us they could still cook, so we had lunch. I took a photo of part of the mural wall in the restaurant.
The Red Snapper is upstairs with a balcony, and I snapped a photo of the street below. You can see there are not the crowds of people on the sidewalks as there usually are - I think the incident really hurt their business - it is such a poor town and only survives from the tourist trade.
When we left, Darold and Curt saw a post with large hole in it from flying bullets. (at least that was their theory, so they snapped a photo.) We split up then - the ladies went to look at jewelry and purses and the men to pharmacies to get medications. Not Curt, but the other two.
We met back at the car and traversed safely out over the bridge, declaring our purchases and paying the Texas tax on our alchohol.
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