Village vibe... schoolchildren rehearse for a festival in Mazunte, Mexico.
Village vibe... schoolchildren rehearse for a festival in Mazunte, Mexico. Photo: New York Times
Damien Cave discovers thundering surf, turtle conservation and eco-minded villages on the Pacific's Costa Chica.
Eager young men waving us towards empty parking spaces by an eco-tourism kiosk, two excited toddlers in the back seat and no way to turn back: tourism hell seems upon us. After a long sigh, and a glance at the pristine Pacific in front of us, we give in.
And then the Costa Chica, as this region of Oaxaca is known, surprises us. "It's 400 pesos [$29] for a private boat tour with a guide," one of the young men says. "But if no one else shows up, you can just pay the group price."
My wife and I look around; we're alone. So we end up with a chartered boat for the price of a crowded one, paying the equivalent of about $10 for a 90-minute trip through mangroves teeming with mating birds, lazy crocodiles and neon-green iguanas. Our guide paddles while identifying the animals. Our children squawk with delight and as we re-emerge to stunning views, my wife and I stare in awe.
This stretch of surf is one of those rare places - hard to find in Mexico and the Caribbean - with natural beauty and tourists, but not a squeeze-the-tourist attitude. There's no charge for waterfront beach chairs; no waitresses waving plastic menus to coax us inside. Then toys, a cat or a playmate (same age as our children, occasionally nude) would often magically appear as we were seated.
The friendliness seems unforced and it's a counterpoint to the monstrous waves and dangerous undertows that have helped keep the area from being overrun. Indeed, the Costa Chica was once hardly fit for tourists.
For decades, the four small neighbouring towns here - Zipolite, San Agustinillo, Mazunte and Ventanilla - were nearly empty except for fishermen hunting sea turtles or harvesting their eggs.
That began to change in the 1980s, as the turtle population dwindled and mass tourism arrived. When the Mexican government banned turtle hunting in 1990, the coast became a test case for how to shift from an industry that created environmental degradation to others that are eco-friendly. With investment from government, non-profit groups and green-minded businesses (such as The Body Shop founder who helped establish a cosmetics co-op run by local women) the shift is nearly complete.
San Agustinillo has more charm than the other three towns, with its smaller beach, preference for cafes and handful of newer, upscale hotels such as Punta Placer (Pleasure Point) and El Sueno (The Dream). Mazunte, a 10-minute walk away, is busier. Live music blares until a loosely enforced closing time - some say midnight, others guess 2am.
The fishermen here still occasionally pull in sharks despite pressure from the government and locals to end the practice. But, mostly, the area has found its sustainable groove. Much of the new construction is built to blend in with the surroundings, walkers outnumber drivers and several business owners have plans for solar-powered streetlights. Residents who have been here longer are equally proud, showing off their cooking ingredients, or the parrots that seem to be the favoured mascot.
But the main attractions are the beach and the area's totem of green conversion, the Mexican Turtle Centre. This aquarium and research centre shows off five of the seven turtle species found on the Mexican coast. Giant sea turtles, known as golfinas in Spanish and olive ridleys in English, race around an above-ground pool just metres from crashing waves. The lodging options also make us long for a second trip. Pan de Miel, sitting on the cliffs between San Agustinillo and Mazunte (see casapandemiel.com/english) has rooms for about 1500 pesos a night that allow travellers to take in amazing views without interruption from children (they aren't allowed). Rooms costing far less are at least as common at other hotels, many within earshot of the waves.
And the waves are important - loud and large, they define this place. The tubes of green surf rolling along the empty beach at Ventanilla and the fierce undertow at San Agustinillo are a perfect match for the cactus plants and palm trees, and even the fishermen hunting sharks. They all reflect a Mexico in (less sanitised) form, rough and raw, still dominated by nature and the struggle for identity.
This is not the Mexico of Cancun, or even fashion-friendly, high-end Tulum on the calm Caribbean. We swim mostly at low tide. We meet people we see again and again.
In a country filled with resorts emphasising tourist convenience and the hunt for tourist dollars (I'm looking at you Ixtapa, Huatulco, Puerto Vallarta), the Costa Chica is a mix of risk and reward well worth making.
From Mexico City, fly to Puerto Escondido or Huatulco, then hire a car to drive to the Costa Chica region.