Years ago I was told tales about “two stone giants” standing guard over ruins deep inside one of the barrancas of the ubiquitous Santiago River. The exact location of those monos, as people call them, escaped me until yesterday, when my friend Rodrigo Orozco offered to show them to me.

I hesitate to write about the Ajijic area since so many readers of this newspaper are far more knowledgeable about the place than I am. Nevertheless, as a resident of Greater Guadalajara, I occasionally feel obliged to remind Tapatíos of what a treasure the Ribera is.

All over the world, expatriates come together to socialize and chat about the joys, sorrows, strategies and surprises of living abroad. Until now, all such gatherings I’ve attended have been spontaneous reunions of people who have been “thrown into the same boat,” people who are often colleagues in the same line of work.

In June 2013, hundreds of lakeside residents were kept awake for 22 hours when an electronic music festival featuring “incessant high-decibel noise” was held in Ajijic.

Jalisco nature photographer Jesús “Chuy” Moreno has been publishing calendars featuring his outstanding photos of western Mexico’s flora and fauna since 2010. Whereas in the past he offered desk agendas in Spanish only, for 2014 he has produced a bilingual wall calendar which sells for 120 pesos.

Three river-running experts from the United States plan to take on a task more difficult – and disgusting – than Hercules’ cleaning of the Augean stables. They plan to raft down the Santiago River from its source at Lake Chapala all the way to the estuary near San Blas where it pours into the Pacific Ocean, a distance of 562 kilometers.