El Bog got herself a ten year permit as we crossed to the mainland by ferry and tackled the grunt of Mexico. Mazatlan is a large town where the ferry arrives into ...
mummasboy.wordpress.com/.../
MUMMASBOY
the travelling type
Mexico – from Mazatlan to Puerto Escondido
by mummasboy
El Bog got herself a ten year permit as we crossed to the mainland by ferry and tackled the grunt of Mexico. Mazatlan is a large town where the ferry arrives into – so we stayed one night to plan out our three-day route to Pascuales. Thankfully after our delightful stay I read that annually around 300 homicides took place in Mazatlan; in 2011 however, they’d hit the same mark by July. This was getting hectic, but the only way out was to drive.
Puerto Vallarta and the neighbouring Sayulita (above) were perhaps the most scenic places I saw in Mexico. The water is clear and aqua, swooping cliffs are home to swanky but cheap restuarants and cabañas… and some mighty big beetles!
Pascuales is black sand and surprisingly undeveloped. I’d often purch myself under the umbrellas with music, my book and a fresh fruit smoothie on the way. While the surf break out front is rapidly becoming famous, only two hotels and a handful of beach cafes exit as the small community warmly welcomes any visitors.
Between Pascuales and Puerto Escondido (our last destination) we follow the windy road along the cliff stopping at Nexpa for a night where we were greeted by a crazy little black dog, or perro as they say in Spanish.
Actually we made that two after not being fit to drive after Halloween celebrations. Beach fishing missions proved highly successful, and you’ll see that the cat was as pleased as we were.
Zihuatanejo was safe, had good shopping and plenty of hotels. We ate our first Italian meal and watched a storm come in (above). As the roof of the café went flying into a black sky we decided it was time to get the food to go.
Acapulco is the only decent sized city on the Pacific coast with its’ decent share of crime to match. We were all pretty hungover and generally over driving to tackle the risks here and so stayed just south in Diamante. I could dedicate an entire paragraph to the ‘backwards’ ways that the Mexi’s do things but I’ll spare you with just one example. We come across an AUTO HOTEL – as the sign says. Perfect. Security for the van, we can park it right outside the room. They quote us $60US equivalent and the room looks immaculate. But once the van is in it’s all a different story. We get through one gate, they charge us $100 instead then claim the van is too big for the space. All six of us attempt to explain and demonstrate that it will fit, but they wont let us. The exit driveway is also half the size. They won’t let us reverse through the entry, and we wont fit out the exit. The staff honestly stood there for ten minutes discussing what to do. We managed to get El Bog out of there and found a much more hospitable hotel to stay at.
Puerto Escondido (above) was our final port of call in both Mexico and El Bog.
There was a stunning little cover around the corner called Playa Carrizalillo (above) down a steephill – even the killer hike back up was worth it.
At our hotel in Puerto we had the cutest cleaner, she’d pop in every day and we’d all try to have a civilized conversation while she spoke Spanish and we nodded and acted out stories. Even in the 30+ degree weather they were all immaculately dressed in pressed white clothes.
We started Spanish lessons here as well which ended up being incredibly useful. I enjoyed watching the world go by and studying in Casa Babylon next door with a chai or iced coffee and some banana pancakes.
After a week of fine dining, walks along the pristine white-sand beach, partying with the lads and sipping on Pacifico watching the sun fade away over the horizon we actually left touroville headed for Guatemala. However on the way we got to talking about how long we would spend driving of the mere 30 days we had left of the trip. A rash decision saw El Bog veer off the road and do a six-pointer to take us back to Puerto. We madly advertised, printed and struck up conversation with anyone that looked like they could do with a 6-sleeper campervan, so we could fly to Peru with a little more coin and a good piece of mind. Eventually our work paid off and a charming Norwegian bloke called Andreas sealed the deal. It was a sad but exciting ordeal – mostly nice to see our beloved Bogster continue her journey on the wild road… maybe even making it back up to Canada.
While the only flights left available to Lima were bloody expensive, it all paid off as we lived it up in business class and in the club lounges. In Mexico City we ate at the oldest café in the country, founded in 1860 and covered in exquisite tiles.
Adios Mexico – until next time.
