Mazunte, a straighter version of Zipolite, on the Oaxacan Coast
Elusive tickets secured, we took a 20 seater Sprinter van to the coast, a very winding route that lasted just over 6 hours, pretty much right on schedule. We even got one washroom break! Cheryl took a gravel, which was definitely a good call.
Arriving in Pothculta, the main transport town for the Oaxacan coast, we were hoping to find a collectivo/camioneta to get us there, but were accosted by a horde of taxi drivers upon disembarkation, and really had no idea where the collectivos left from. One taxi driver knew we were looking for a collectivo and helpfully offered up his cab as a collectivo for the two of us, for the low price of 75 pesos each! While it was impressive marketing, we kept walking, but were pretty soon called back by the same entrepreneurial driver/comic who partnered us with up with a family of three who were also going to Mazunte, so we split the 150 peso fare with them. Half an hour later we arrived in the small beach town of Mazunte and hiked up the hill to our first guesthouse, as we’d be splitting our time between two due to late bookings for the busiest time of the year during the Christmas to New Years period.
The first guesthouse wasn’t all that spectacular (our first double bed since the erroneous booking in Mexico City upon arrival), but the view definitely was. Wow. Did I mention there was a hammock?
The next two days consisted of hammocking (this is most definitely a word, based on the number of times I have used it), eating guacamole (this was hard to find before we reached the beach), drinking margaritas (some better than others) and mojitos, swimming and reading a lot of books.
After checking into our new guesthouse with a slightly lesser view and slightly less comfy hammock but much better location and bed, we grabbed a very full camioneta to get to Zipolite where Cheryl’s friends were staying. The beach was very similar to Mazunte, although the surf was definitely a bit more intimidating (we witnessed two lifeguard rescues while there), and much straighter, but not in the linear sense, according to Alejandro, one of the group of gay men we were hanging out with. As I was requested to go to the pool to see a merman (Zipolite definition: man wearing a mermaid tail), I realized he was probably right.
The other difference between Zipolite and Mazunte was that Zipolite has awesome sunsets. We walked to the end of the beach, climbed a small cliff, grabbed a beer, and headed down to the beach to watch the show, along with about a hundred other mostly gay and naked men. Yes, the sunset was great. Yes, someone made a joke about a moon and a sun. And yes, people clapped when the sun set. This was only the second time I had witnessed this (the clapping for sunset that is). The other time was the day before at Mazunte. It was a bit strange. I mean, I get clapping when an airplane lands. I’m personally not afraid of flying and know that I am much more likely to get killed in a car crash (although I don’t generally spend all that much time in cars, but hey), but I also understand a safe landing is not a guaranteed thing. But a sunset? Have we finally moved into a post-apocalyptic world (I can think of a few global events which would qualify this) and the fact that the sun will set each day is not a given?
Anyway, show over, we headed back over the cliff and walked back towards dinner. The remnants of the sun were reflecting on the water, making for a spectacular sunset. This was worth clapping for.
Cheryl’s friends were pretty excited to take us to the restaurant they found fresh fish burgers with avocado, tomato, onion and Oaxacan cheese for four dollars, so we were sold. Over dinner we learned about their plan to either bring or make Oaxacan cheese back in Vancouver, but in the end we decided it wouldn’t work due to the presence of the Canadian dairy cartel. Yup. Look it up. What do you talk about on holidays?
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ivan