Holidays in Oaxaca

Because I'm living in Guanajuato right now with very limited funds and no social obligations besides to my roommate and four dogs, I'm having a chance to spit out the photos taken over the past few months. I really am excited about getting to the "home visit" photos, there are a shit-load, and some of them fantastic, and to be closer to real-time as far as my trip goes. In order the do that, I must do the dreaded vacation/beach post, which was by far one of the most amazing and relaxing vacations of my life, but probably absolutely boring to readers. Ahem, "today I ate breakfast, went to the beach, took a nap, ate dinner, repeat." Real interesting indeed, but this journal is as much for me as the reader, so...

Morgan and I took a 22-hour bus ride overnight from Mexico City to arrive in Pochutla. We stumbled out of the bus, dazed and little blurry, and it was drizzling. Morgan was already questioning if it would rain the rest of our trip. Immediately cab drivers were hassling us in every direction, and my brain was so not there yet, that I just ignored everyone. Finally we waited 15 minutes for a camioneta, but then talked a cab into 60 pesos to take us to our place in Puerto Angel. He for SURE said 60 pesos, but of course when we finally got there, he swears he said 70. (Oh, he tried to dump us off at the wrong place. I was so unamused and tired, I didn't even move as he got out a few of our bags.) Morgan took charge explaining, "No! this is NOT our place!"

Finally we did get to our place called, El Septimo Sol. The grounds were amazing: Clean, friendly, killer rooms – just not very close to the beach, although it had an amazing beach view. Hammocks galore. The dueños were super young and friendly and I chatted to them for a while, a cute, very native-looking Mexican with long black hair and his sweet girlfriend. They were salsa dancers and we became pals immediately, chatting as I swung in the hammocks and pat their enormous dogs. I Suppose I didn't take many pics from this place, here are couple from the grounds.
After a much-needed-after-travel-siesta, we headed to the beach. It was walking distance, down this long hill (cerro) and packed with people: locals, tourists, fisherman. Boats everywhere – hence the name puerto Angel. Restaurant servers hurriedly ran up to us, telling us to sit at their table, their specials, etc. I realized they were trying to make money for their families, but I can't help but be slightly annoyed with the hassling. Didn't matter though because Morgan and I ate an entire fish on a platter as a welcome-to-the-beach dinner with a few Sol and Bohemias to soak it down. We took a walk around the small puerto, and crashed pretty early.

In the morning, not being super impressed by Puerto Angel, we decided to go to this other beach, the one she says is one of the most amazing places EVER having visited a few years back. But unfortunately, due to it being the holidays (high-season,) we were unable to get accommodations there.

We wanted to check it out anyways so we hopped in the back of a camioneta. (Camionetas were our main form of transportation on this trip. It's like a small pick-up truck that they rig the bed with two benches, a tarp to cover it, and a pole to hang on to. It's really fun as long as it's not jam packed with people, or a stranger's big belly doesn't end up in your face. And they are dirt cheap.)

We arrived to the beach, and I couldn't believe the difference. The entire atmosphere shifted, and I felt like we had arrived on another planet, muy tranquilo. We decided to ask the place Morgan had stayed before, if they just so happened to have space.They DID! Crazy excited, we got to view our future-room and could not stop squealing. This place was on the beach with a balcony and a beach view...

We were a little nervous about telling the really nice couple at El Septimo Sol that we wouldn't be staying with them as planned. We headed back, this time crammed into a tiny cab with about 5 or 6 others, I was practically sitting on some man's lap in the front seat. Anyways, we got back, packed our things, told the dueños, thanks, sorry and adios, and headed back to the other beach. The were totally cool about it, of course.

Morgan and I had planned to stay a week at this beach. Ha.

It's so puzzling how we adapt to situations and create rituals or patterns for everyday life to make ourselves even more comfortable. Morgan and I created this sort of habitual mentality while visiting la playa. So I've decided, with suggestion from a friend, to break the photos not into days, but into chunk sections of what we did every day.

First of all, this is the place that we stayed – The most amazing room I've ever stayed in. In high-season, the room is 600 pesos a night for a 2-bedroom. That is $46/2 people = $23 dollars a night! Crap hostels cost the same!Our room, complete with mosquito netting. (This didn't prevent me from getting the most bites I've ever had. The bastards even bit me in weird places like my fingertips, my face, and all over my feet.)
Here is our balcony, and our ridiculous view of the beach.The most ridiculous thing though, is that in low-season, which is year around besides Christmas and New Year, this same room is 350 pesos a night. That $27US. Split it in half for two bedroom: That's $13.50US per night, per person. This is Morgan, like the most excited ever. My favorite Australian and Pole, Mick and Ula, showed up on Christmas Day! They accompanied us in our daily routines, and Morgan and I were lucky enough to get to spend the next few weeks with them...So, every morning we started with a light breakfast, like fruit, granola and yogurt doused in honey with a café americano. The servers of the restaurant warned you NOT to order this specific meal, because bees would swarm your plate for the honey. It was worth the morning battle. (Valió la pena.)This restaurant, se llama Arquitecto, owned by a British chic who speaks beautiful spanish, attracted Europeans and Americans like flies with their great coffee, incredible seviche and fish sandwiches. We sometimes ate there twice a day.
A very serious yoga town, in the mornings it wasn't unusual to encounter something like this. Also not abnormal to see circus-folk, fire dancers, hula-hoopers and one-million hippies selling jewelry.We were more interested in stuffing our faces and loading up on caffeine in the mornings. Some days we splurged at our Posada on pancakes and/or these black bean, smothered tortillas covered in eggs. The bananas in Oaxaca, (a more dense, creamy version) were the best I've ever had, and in the mornings a farmer would push a wheelbarrow of papayas to freshly supply our Posada. Amazing.
Then we would go back to our room, smother on sun screen, put our bikinis on and head to the beach. A full day of swimming, getting wiped out over and over by waves, and laying in the sun to follow. The waves were enormous, but Morgan swore that 50 yards from where we had to go every morning, they were much bigger. I'll admit, I found out the hard way one day after taking a pounding that she was right. Btw, wave in español is ola, not onda, and not hola but pronounced practically the same. At first morgan and I were screaming, Onda! (Incorrecto.)


We would then venture around the little town a bit when the sun got too hot, or eat some lunch. These are avocados stuffed with fresh fish and veggies.

Chocolate and banana crepes. (crepas)
Morgan buying dish towels?
My favorite part of the day: The evening hike to Punta Cometa with Morgan, Mick and Ula. This is where I took my camera every night. (Even though I still managed to take hundreds of photos, believe it or not, I was in "vacation-from-everything-including-my-camera" mode.)Nearly every evening at around 5 o'clock, we would take off to Punta Cometa, along with half of the beach population. It was nice to witness the dedication that we and the other beach inhabitants had to watch the sun go down every night.
Supposedly Punta Cometa is the southernmost point of the Northern Hemisphere. (Take note of the cactus.)People from all ages would boulder around to find the best view.

I thought at first this guy must be doing a sunset meditation or salutation, but then realized he had his headphones on and was dancing to Michael Jackson from his little perch.


This is the cactus from before – actually 20-25 feet tall.
Band photo #1.
It was so nice to have Mick, Ula and Morgan around to distract me from the swarming thoughts of the holidays going on in Louisville, the Biesel Christmas party I was missing, Christmas Eve at my grandma's, and Tim's family who I missed so much. They were a great step-in family, a positive bubble of support.






We hiked somewhere a little different on New Years Day.
Had this entire gorgeous swimming hole to ourselves.
Did a little modeling as the sun went down...
At this point, I could make a cuteness calender out of mick and ula pics.
This can be January...
Band photo #2.
Swimming at sunset is also great – big waves and no sunburn!
After sunset at times we would make dinner, or go out for happy hour drinks. To be honest, Morgan and I were getting up and going to bed with the sun. Some nights to bed as early as 7 or 8 pm... It was a perfect beach system.Right next door was a very loud techno-bar. At times there would be BBQ blazing, techno music blasting and/or fire dancers performing. We tried to pretend it didn't bother us for fear of sounding too old. Ear plugs came in handy.

Our posada by moonlight.
The beach atmosphere at night with a full moon: Not much light at all, no big fancy condos or hotels. Very dark, very private and an abundance of reggae music. (I've never heard so much concentrated Bob Marley in a 2 week span.)
The stars were absolutely amazing. The best I've ever seen was on Christmas day. At 4 am I could see the entire milky way and millions of stars coming all the way down to meet the horizon line on the water. A thirty second exposure from our table:
There are so many missing elements that I have to throw in quickly about this trip. All the amazing people we met and interesting things that took place: The great couple from Homer, Alaska, the crazy man from DF, Raul, that had somehow captured a sea-turtle and wanted to take it back to Mexico City, the Jewish-Mexican-jovencitos, the day the giant-gummy bear-looking jellyfish got in my mouth, the local little girls that would play with us in the water when they weren't selling pie on the beach, the Mexican writer who brought his enormous old typewriter with him, the fact that we put a dog down on our last day of the trip, the fact that this woman took my top off on a public beach and gave me an hour massage, our New Years shoe-less dance party with the live band, Casa Verde, the fact that Morgan and I each got a piercings (her nose and my belly button again) pretending we were 18 again and on Spring Break 2009! So many cool things that are totally subjective.

So I'll keep it short, and mention that we stayed almost double the amount of time we were supposed to... Every day became, "just one more day." Finally when I really thought we were leaving, I packed my things. When Morgan came back to the room, she looked at me with disappointment and said, "Are we really leaving?" We ended staying through the New Year, which we had planned to be in Oaxaca City or Guanajuato with my friends. It was so worth it, so much needed for both of us... An amazing viaje indeed.