Road trip to Mazunte

A couple of Sony Action Cam vids from a recent day trip to Mazunte on a beautiful day. Just excerpts. The entire trip is about one and a half hours.

The Epic Beach Road Trip: Zipolite and San Augustillino

By Semana Santa Monday, I felt like doing a little exploring and hit the road for Puerto Escondido and points along the way.

I handled the road with caution, pulling over every time I spotted someone in my mirror. There's nothing I can do about it on a stretch of sharp hard turns and that's usually when the impatient motorist shows up. It takes a maximum wait of two minutes to get through most of these patches but one guy just had to pass me on a sharp downhill blind turn. Usually these people aren't even going that much faster than I am. I have to put my brakes on to help them back in the lane on time. Madness.

First stop, Zipolite. Almost there. Uh-oh. Road obstruction. Looks like it came down completely on termite power.

Driving strategy: come to complete stop and check for oncoming traffic. Average vacationer strategy: pull out immediately and accelerate. I hope someone moved this out of harm's way before too long.

It was early enough that Zipolite didn't feel too crowded but that can change in the blink of an eye on Semana Santa. One minute I was the only customer at this beachside restaurant, enjoying a second breakfast, when, boom, 30 people descended on the panicked solo waitress all at once.

The yellow flags must have been left over from the day before because I didn't feel good about that water. It was too rough for my my boogie board but I needed to get wet. I splashed around in strong sandy waves near the shore for a bit and moved on.

Next stop, beautiful San Augustillino where the water was calmer but still rather high. I was content with another refreshing dip. Got some of the sand out of my ears this time


And onwards.

Back to Life

Random pictures throughout this post.

The lookout point over Playa Entrega and Santa Cruz.


Because of the tsunami warning, I chose to bail on the camping expedition at Playa Organo this Saturday past. Other people decided the risk was small and went anyways. They were right. I was wrong. I had my backpack sitting by the door filled with essentials for an impromptu race up the mountains and the locks off the Italika so nothing would slow me down. I was ready to roar out of this town with a moment's notice. So I missed out this time. There will be other opportunities.

So the weekend wouldn't be a complete write-off, I rode the Italika to Zipolite for a day trip. That's always fun. I enjoy the road. If any cars or trucks get behind me, I pull over to let them by as soon as possible and take all the sharp turns at the appropriate speed. It's a lot less nerve-wracking with a helmet. I don't miss the wind in my hair at all.



Playa Entrega


There was so much sand at Zipolite, more than I can remember ever before. The Shambhala cove and the tiny one beyond were accessible without even getting your feet wet. Read a novel. Splashed in the waves. I might have had too much sun but I'll recover.

I wanted to be back in Crucecita before nightfall so I headed out around 4:30, shook the sand out of my towel, found an invite to a party on a text message - that was nice - and revved up the scoot. That's when the day went from pleasant to incredible and amazing.



Beautiful Barra de la Cruz


I ran into Marguerite on the main street so I had to stop and "Hola. Como esta?"

"Edward, Lee is here" Or was it "... esta aqui." I understood even if I couldn't believe my ears.

"Donde?!"

"Nice Place on the Beach."

Not that anyone would lie about something like that but I had to see for myself. What are headlights for anyway if not for night driving?

You see, I and several others have thought Lee was probably dead for a year and a half now. Towards the end of my teaching stint in Korea, I was getting emails from people I'd never met because Lee had essentially disappeared. He sent out a brief good-bye message to everyone on his email list and then canceled his account. Messages to him bounced back. Everyone was left wondering what happened and no one found out until recently.

Lee is this great guy I met years ago on vacation. Conversations were always interesting with Lee. We met again and again on later vacations down in Mexico. He's an interesting and genuinely cool guy, respected by everyone who knows him so his disappearance was not shrugged off lightly. The Lee hotline continued for a while. By the time I left Korea, I was convinced the last time I saw him really was the last and I raised my farewell toast to him one night in Zipolite. I was premature.



A giant pencil from one of last semester's students. Cool


Sure enough. There he was, working away on some bamboo for stairway railings. It felt like a UFO sighting. I took his picture right away in case he disappeared.

Surprise.

Look who I found.

Here's the scoop. Lee decided he didn't like his email service anymore and shut it down to switch, first writing down all of his friends' addresses. Well, things happen, days go by or, as in this case, six months, by which time all of those addresses had been lost. The craziest thing of all is that Lee found out, when somebody looked up his social security number for a job, he has actually been declared legally dead by relatives he lost touch with. Wow. It's a strange and wonderful world sometimes.

It was just so good to see him. I wish I could have stayed for a longer chat with beer and tacos and the works but the road beckoned and the work week was beginning early in the morning. I'll see him again before he heads north. Excellent excellent ending to a great day.

Grubby and tired, I arrived home just before sundown, gassed up the Italika and stopped in at Theresa's to ask what time the party started. I was already late. Some people had gone home to bed but there was a warm welcome and food and drink, typical of Theresa's legendary hospitality.

What a great life.

Scary Carretera to Zipolite

A good night sleep makes all the difference between a great or mediocre day so all weekend plans are dependent on when my eyes open without the insistent nagging from the voice alarm woman. A late morning just means smaller activities. Last Sunday I woke comfortably before dawn. The night before I’d thought about running the scooter down to Zipolite with my boogie board and the idea still sounded good so I ate quickly and got out the door just as it was turning light.
I’d had a terrifying ride on that road before, on a day trip to San Augustin, and I was counting on the early hour to cut down the traffic this time. It worked. Anyone wanting to make a run from Crucecita to Zipolite or Mazunte, all you have to do is get out early. Once you pass the airport, things are saner any time of day.
The entire trip took about an hour and 15 minutes with 3 stops to let the engine cool.
This was my first stop. I heard what sounded like the rumble of thunder but kept going. It could have been anything.

Zipolite has a new park area with a beach style gazebo.

The place was deserted.

Just a couple of cool dogs near Lola’s.

The water was high and rough for my cautious tastes. I wonder if that isn’t a seasonal thing. I made a beeline for this beach last year at this time when I returned from Korea and it was the same.
It’s been a while since I played in the waves and I was out there long enough to get a good burn on my back. Idiot. Even water proof sun screen needs frequent applications in the Pacific Ocean. A lifelong burner should be able tor emember that.
A big wave sweeping up to the restaurants with a current that insistently pulled me towards some rocks was my signal to pack it in. That much wave play gives a boy an appetite and I almost swallowed a substantial meal whole at Shambhala. The rumbling I’d heard earlier had been thunder. Clouds over the mountains were looking serious. It was time to go. I still don’t have a helmet and rain drops have a nasty slap when the scooter's in motion.
My muffler had come apart and the bike blatted so loud it wasn’t worth trying to listen to the MP3 player. At least there was plenty of warning of my approach at tight bends for any children chasing balls on to the road. I got caught in some rain but raced away from it and kept those clouds behind me. No coffee breaks for the machine this time. I made it home alive with an hour to spare before sundown.
I had such a great day and that was all on less than one tank of gas. I went to fill it on Monday, figuring it had to be as dry as William Burroughs, but I could have run it back and forth to UMAR all week.

Zipolite Sunset

One of my friendly neighbors at the Brisa Marina was out on the shore line to capture a magnificent sunset when I walked into her frame. That's me on the left, packing in the board for another day, on my way for a shower. Only two more days of vacation after that night. It must have been the next day that some ******* stole my sunglasses while I was in the water. They were just cheap ones, easily broken, so I had them carefully laid out on my shirt, in full view. I saw a group of guys walk suspiciously close to my stuff as they passed by into a cabana area. that's when he must have swooped down and snatched them. Just a crime of opportunity. They didn't go through my bag or my shirt or I would have lost cash and an MP3 player as well. I saw the guy when I was packing up for a break from the sun. He was leaving the cabanas with just one of his friends, both of them around early to mid-twenties, super cool badass dudes. It wasn't the sunglasses that gave the game away. They were kind of generic looking. It was the grin the bastard gave me. He turned his head to flash them at me as if to say "Ha ha. Fuck you." His little buddy smirked at me with a little toss of the head. I thought out loud. "Those guys look like a couple of *******s." I was glad to see that comment wiped the grins and smirks away. They looked kind of threatened. They might have thought I was stalking them. I just happened to be walking that way along the shore behind them. They started sticking their skinny arms out as if they were muscle bound. No more cocky smirks, that's for sure. I don't fight but they didn't know that. And I certainly wasn't going to challenge them without proof. Those glasses were so cheap and ordinary I couldn't prove they were mine. It put me in a bad mood. I grumped and complained about it to people. One young lady nearby said someone stole her hammock. Three people I've known lost laptops. It brought my petty loss in perspective. Still, the image of their make believe tough guy taunts... On the bright side, one of the people I know who lost his laptop got it back and the thief is festering in a Pochutla jail, waiting to be shipped back to France.

Happy New Years 2008-2009

My fun time is almost over here in Zipolite. A few more days and it's finally back to work which is really just more fun time in a new locale because the beaches of Huatulco are very pretty and my job is going to be a blast.

I have never seen the beach of Zipolite so crowded. I don't envy anyone in search of a room in this town. All of my favorite restaurants have been too crowded. Some were already booked for reservations two days in advance. Tonight should be especially problematic. It could be a night for tacos.

I don't go to Nice Place on the Beach every night, less so after the night I ended up closing the place and drinking mezcal on the beach until 5 AM. I didn't suffer horribly but felt dried out and indifferent all next day. These things happen drink by drink. I won't do that for at least another year.

Generally it's a surefire place to find instant camaraderie. The regulars are all very regular. Here are some of the usual suspects with the legendary Crazy Horse Invincible tending bar. Not a very threatening crowd at all. You can meet some fine people there.

The red eyes are all actual red eyes and not the fault of the camera flash.

That last one is of me (the guy with the goofy grin) and Jonathan from Quebec. I think that was taken early in the game of my all-nighter

The most interesting person I've met this spell in Zipolite has to be Graham from England. Graham is the kind of guy who highlights what a slacker I am by contrast. Having earned himself enough funds to last a while by working in Saudi Arabia, this guy is bicycling all the way through Central America to Panama. If anyone doubts he'll make it, understand that he began this trip in Alaska. Here he is, all packed to hit the road again. These pictures were taken over a week ago. God only knows how far he's travelled since then. Good luck Graham, wherever you are. Wishing you only adventures of the fun variety.


Okay. The sun has gone down on another beautiful day. Some fireworks have already begun. Time to find a vacant table for dinner somewhere. Soon it will be time for the annual pagan bonfire brooha down at the cove by Shambhala.

Happy New Year's to everybody.

Green Flags

Every day has been a green flag day here this week at Zipolite. Those who know this beach will appreciate what a big deal that is. The beach has never been better. Low tide is a wide shiny expanse of sand. People can walk way out there and still be only up to their waists. The waves are tranquil with only the occasional heavy boomer to send the boogie board zooming off to shore in a hurry. It's like Santa himself arranged perfect conditions for the Christmas rush.




There are still a few hazards. Our keen eyed lifeguard stopped to bury an ugly dead fish with no eyes so no one would step on a spiked fin. A neighbor from San Francisco stepped on a stingray. It couldn't have been the same type that finished off that Australian guy because her bandage was off the very next day.

Lots of pictures and less talk.

Phew!

2008 is winding down pleasantly and 2009 is shaping up well but it couldn't possibly be better than today. I'm at Zipolite again until work starts in early January, with only a short interruption of beach bliss to run back to Huatulco and pick up my spanking new visa.

Time slips away like sand between my toes. I barely managed to get up off my beach towel and head back to Huatulco for December 1 to start all the complicated paperwork. Christmas decorations were already up on the streets of Isla Mujeres. A big artificial tree stood empty when I arrived in the Cancun bus station and the lights were flashing before my trip was underway.

No matter how close they look on the map, these two places aren't exactly around the corner from each other. Including station time, I had a 36 hour trip. Brrr. I ended up using my horse-shaped neck pillow for ear muffs.


Finding an apartment was the trickiest detail for the visa application. No apartment, no visa. No one wanted to rent for the month of December because they're all anticipating renting these places by the night for a lot more money. I doubt that will happen. I walked through sub-divisions with obvious vacancies and administrative people just lied to my face. "Todo occupado." It all worked out in the end thanks to Barry, the guy I'll be replacing. I'm simply going to take over his place and use all of his domestic conveniences until he returns in February. It's nice not to have to buy all of those little necessary things like cookware and a coffee machine right away. A little more than a week in Huatulco and everything was prepared that could be for my new beach job for 2009.

It's been frustrating living without a camera. I saw and keep seeing so many beautiful things every day: wildlife; exotic flowers; architectural quirks. Before landing in Zipolite, I took a detour to Oaxaca just to do some camera shopping. I went everywhere in that town and finally settled for another Canon, not the model I would have preferred but the best I could do.

Oaxaca looked absolutely great, much more prosperous than 2006/2007. The streets are repaired. It's always been a great city to buy a good balloon but now more than ever.

There is a bustle. The zocalos are tastefully decorated for Christmas with chrysanthemums on the curbs of all the walkways and garden plots.








Check out these before and after pictures of the same street near Hotel Aurora from different angles.




Miahuetecos has moved to a new improved station. Luckily for me, a young guy was waiting by the old locale to walk arrivals to the new.

Just a quick peek at Miahuatlan from the Miahuatecos station at the pee break. The construction has finally been completed that stayed dormant for about a year. Looks good.

So does the cathedral across the street. I remember it looking a bit rough last time but there isn't a speck of graffiti to be found. As far as I can tell, every window is intact.


I'm seing improvements everywhere around here but the absolute best has to be the traffic lights on the highway crossroad to Pochutla. For years, the old system semed to work. The adjacent military checkpoint must have helped remind people to exercise restraint. Nevertheless, I like the new lights. Red and green. Very Christmassy.

Even this blog is bound to improve now that I have my new camera.

No Storm

It's a sunny morning in Zipolite. I'm all packed up, ready to go. I really wouldn't mind staying another day but I'm determined to see if Lake Atitlan lives up to the hype. Zipolite is like that. You wake up to a perfect morning on the ocean and can't take seriously the idea of anything or any place else being important enough to warrant the effort.

I would have left last Thursday but there was a serious storm warning. A few locals warned me of an approaching hurricane. So much for travelling. I bought snacks and alcohol and prepared to settle in for a bit of a breeze. I was kind of looking forward to it; listening to the fierce howl against my shutters, sipping quietly from a bottle of mezcal. I didn't take it too seriously. The Brisa Marina is a solid construction.

I warned neighbors about it but they were skeptical. The woman next door to me found a hurricane website with live satellite feeds and, sure enough, there was a big cloud of white spinning around out there. I was like Chicken Little, checking on friends, spreading the news. But it didn't happen. The sky looked promising for a while. The waves were more than a little rough out there the next day but it's not as if wedon't see the occasional rough water days here.

But check out the pictures. It looked promising for a while.

Getting Wet

Other than insurance against dropping it in streams, there's not much point to owning a waterproof camera if you stay on dry land all the time. The first time is a little unnerving. It's an act of faith in technology and the Olympus doesn't look like much. There's no visible rubber or anything.

I finally took the plunge at Playa Entrega in Huatulco, playing around with Will, Jasmine and Chester, the very big puppy. I've even had it in the water at Zipolite with my boogie board and now there are three Youtube beach videos from the water.

Slacker on the go

It has been so good to be back in Mexico. Most of my time has been spent reading novels and splashing in the Pacific with my boogie board. This has been the most comfortable and idle month in quite some time but I did manage to find employment in between naps. I start in December and until then the slacking continues. Just so both of my readers know vaguely where I'm heading if I end up missing,I'm forcing myself off of this beach and onwards to other beaches tomorrow. I have fairly good directions to Lake Atitlan in Guatemela and I'm practically there. A friend told me I should spend a month there to soak it all in but I'm feeling ambitious and I'll be pushing on to Nicaragua to try standing up on a surfboard once again. This could be the charm. Here are some standard Zipolite shots. This is the quietest I've ever seen the place. I have the entire second floor of the Brisa Marina to myself. There will be a lot more life when I come back for Christmas. Later