My motorcycle gang

A lot of people may think this blog has been abandoned forever. Not true. In fact, I feel the urge to upload peictures even though they're far from current.

These are from a scooter excursion my friend David arranged at school for teachers and students months ago, a nice little day trip to Rio Copalita and back.



It's hard to get everyone in one shot. Someone has to hold the camera.



Half of these pictures are courteous of Omar, the man in the front.


It must have been raining in the hills to make the water so brown. I've passed over that bridge in the background quite often and the water has been crystal clear. Lots of people head down there to cool off and relax without the need to worry about treacherous ocean currents.

Santa Maria Huatulco

Downtown Santa Maria Huatulco

It sounds odd to hear collectivo taxi drivers in downtown Crucecita calling out for passengers to Huatulco. What are they talking about? Aren't we already there? If any place can be called the center of Huatulco, it's Crucecita.

Eventually I learned there is a real town just past the airport, at the same intersection as the turnoff to San Augustin, and it goes by the name of Santa Maria Huatulco. I don't know the details but most people know that this beach resort was expropriated from Oaxaquenos who used to make their living off the coast. I've been told that this is where most of those people live now. Some day I'd like to know the full story.

In Crucecita itself there is a strange oil and water economic mix. In the midst of modern buildings and luxury, there are these shacks, some of which don't appear to have electricity or water. They're just shacks. Between the low cost apartment buildings of Infonavit and the palatial homes of Sector K, there is a small hill surrounded by a junk fence covered with what appear to be political slogans. At the top are junk homes that definitely aren't hooked up to any power lines. Cooking is done on open outdoor barbecues. I'm just speculating but what I've seen indicates the old expropriation deal wasn't smooth and there may still be some stubborn resistance.



There really isn't much to see. The streets are in good shape. This is no puebla. It's a real town. Unless I was missing something, there is nothing to bring a tourist there. I wasn't stared down by local thugs or anything but my instinct told me I wasn't particularly welcome there so I didn't linger. When you putt around in strange places on your own, it doesn't hurt to listen to that inner voice even if it has nothing to do with logic.

The highlight was the sparkling river with the nice footbridge. People were down in the shallow part doing their laundry and further up others enjoyed a splash in some swimming holes. Scooters revved up the bank to zip across the bridge. It looked inviting but I didn't feel invited. Strictly for locals.




Curiosity satisfied, it was time to head back.

Walk Around Panajachel

This blog has a tendency to be just a bit too chatty some days. This entry will be heavier on the pictures. I swear.

I was too lazy to wake up and go on a lake tour with Carina but we took a nice walk around the town and harbors when she got back. It was a great low maintenance day. Did my laundry. Took the walk. Take out food for a picnic dinner on the lake (Carina's brilliant inspiration) and happy hour.

We almost had a brilliant shot of the dog beside me sticking it's head out of a garbage can like a jack in the box but moments like that don't last for long.