The Oaxacan Coast with a capital A
Before embarking on our trip to Mexico a friend of Sophie and I’s raved about the Oaxacan coast. He had spent two weeks there when he was 21 learning to surf and living in a cabana on the beach in pure tropical paradise. So it was top on our list of places to go. After researching the coast, Puerto Escondido where our friend had stayed in blissful paradise, was now ten years on, a major tourist destination and the cabanas had been replaced by large hotels. So we headed for Mazunte 65 km east along the coast, the new hippy hang out.
To get to this part of the coast we needed to take a 10 hour night bus along winding mountain roads. At the start of the journey I was not feeling good and as soon as the coach started on the curving roads my stomach started to churn. As on all buses in Mexico the onboard TVs were blaring out a film, this time it was ‘The Impossible’ with Naomi Watts. The screaming and mangled bodies of the aftermath of the Tsunami was not a welcome soundtrack to my nausea. After an hour or so the road, the film and my stomach had begun to settle. Nearing the end of our journey as dawn began to break the road started to twist once again but this time it was Sophie’s turn to hold down the vomit. Eventually we were set down in Pochutla, a small dusty village where a taxi took us to Mazunte.
As we drove through lush tropical forests I knew we had come to the right place. We had booked a night in the most highly recommended cabana on Tripadvisor to ease our early morning arrival. How had we not learnt by now?! We arrived at a dusty unkempt sight atop Mazunte cliff. There was no one around as we picked our way amongst the debris to the ‘kitchen/reception’, there were empty bottles everywhere as if it were the sight of many parties. After a few minutes the owner appeared, hung over and dishevelled. He explained there was a party last night, and they are off to a luna eclipse rave that night too if we wanted to join. He is very chatty and shows us to our room. Instantly we ask for another option, it is a dorm room above the ‘party’ kitchen, this is not what we booked. Next he takes us to a half built room, the builders are still working on the room next door. I asked about the workers as we had not slept and needed a rest, he said that they would not working today and it was the only room he had left. As soon as we had settled down to take a nap the workers began banging next door. So I attempted to have a shower, there was no curtain and the shower was in the centre of the camp. After setting up my sarong in the door way I turned on the light to discover a cloud of mosquitos and this was Dengue season, so no shower for me. Soph and I see this places potential, it is set on a stunning site with incredible views but there has been no up keep which has let the place down.
So we decided to leave tomorrow. Unable to sleep we walk down to the beach to eat and hunt out a new place to stay. Mazunte beach is a stunning double crescent bay with low surfing waves lapping the golden sand. We are impressed by the beach and definitely want to stay.
Whilst eating fish Tlayudas, a sort of folded Mexican Pizza, we bump into Kirsty and Freddy our travel friends, suddenly Mexico feels like a very small place. They have no advice on places to stay as they are in a Posada on the next beach over. After an exhausting and thorough investigation of pretty much every accommodation option in Mazunte we decide on Posada del Arquitecto. Their cheapest room is an open walled Palapa in the trees with a platform swing bed and awesome views. Soph is not too keen on the lack of walls but the natural setting soon grows on her. This will be one of my favourite places we stay in, in Mexico.
But first we have to stay one night at our place on the cliff. Well we nearly don’t make it back after dinner; the streets are transformed by the darkness and we lose our way and are unable to ask for directions as we have forgotten the name of the Cabanas. Sophie keeps cool whilst I panic and she eventually finds our way home. The camp is now deserted and it is eerie in the full moon light. Our room feels unsecure and is sweltering hot. As we fiddle with the curtains to encourage more air flow we uncover a huge scorpion on the wall. It is too large to catch but luckily as we dither as to what to do it runs up into the roof and does not reappear.
We do not sleep well and are up and out early. We creep out of the camp in the hope that our exit will go unnoticed but just as we are about to be clear of the place the owner appears asking despondently if we are leaving? We simply answer, ‘Yes’ and continue on our way. Unfortunately we take his dog Frida too! As we make our way down the hill road Frida follows, we think she will give up after a certain point and go home but after 10 minutes we realise this is not her plan. She follows us all the way into the village, up some stairs and into a restaurant. We try to explain that this is not our dog and luckily we are believed. But Frida is still with us! There is nothing to do but take her back. Sophie gallantly runs back up the hill and returns her to the owner.
Settled into our tree top palapa we spend the day on the beach and enjoy cocktails in the evening as the sunsets. We talk of spending longer here in this sandy paradise.
Sadly our time in Mazunte does not go as planned.
As the birds wake in the early dawn light I am also awake with severe stomach ache, nausea, and all over muscle pain. I wake Sophie and tell her I am feeling unwell and ask her to take me to the bathroom as I think I am going to be sick. I spend the next few hours vomiting and have to spend the day in bed. A few days pass and I do not improve, fever, headaches , intense muscle pain and exhaustion. Sophie discovers that Kirsty is also very unwell so she and Freddy amuse themselves on the beach Whilst we two ladies rest.
Sophie asks around for a doctor but there is none in Mazunte and we will have to travel to Puerto Escondido. A woman at our Posada is very helpful, feeds me a special healing honey and offers to have an 83 year old Shaman woman come to perform a ritual. I am reluctant to go to the doctor because of my past experience with mononucleosis, a part of me is terrified that a Doctor will diagnose me with this illness again. But after seven days in bed with no improvement I give in and Sophie takes me to Puerto Escondido.
Sophie is wonderful, she carries my bag the entire way, finds me an English speaking doctor and by lunchtime I am settled in a hotel room having had blood tests and will have the results by seven. The Doctor has warned it may be Dengue Fever and so we wait.
We return to the Doctor at 7.30pm with my results. He goes down the list of results, my lymph nodes are very active indicating a virus, could be Dengue, but no my blood is negative. He turns over the page. ‘Oh it is much worse!’ he exclaims. ‘You have Hepatitis A!’ The next 10 minutes are a blur; he rambles on in a mildly threatening manner, explaining that I must stop drinking alcohol, go on a strict low-fat diet and that I am highly contagious. There is nothing much to do but wait it out and Sophie must get tested as well.
As soon as we get back to our room we begin to google. It is not life threatening or a permanent disease but it can last months with symptoms recurring for up to a year and all on a low-fat, T total diet and no kisses from my love for some time! And before you ask I have had the vaccination.
The next day Sophie goes for her tests at the same clinic as me. As she sits down with the nurse, the nurse says in English to her, ‘So Bonnie has HIV.’ What? Sophie asks her to repeat. A tense fear runs through her body. ‘Bonnie has HIV.’ Sophie replies with lowering assertion, ‘No Bonnie has hepatitis A.’ The nurse responds ‘Yes that is what I said Bonnie has HAV, Hepatitis A virus.’ Phew.
Sophie gets back from the clinic and tells me her misunderstanding with the nurse we laugh in nervous relief. When we later go back to collect Sophie’s results, which are clear, the same nurse repeats loudly over the reception desk for the entire waiting room to hear, that Bonnie has HIV but Sophie does not. This then becomes an in joke between Sophie and I about my illness.
The weather turns with my diagnosis and it rains solidly for three days. My Dad has kindly offered to pay for a weeks recuperation in a more salubrious hotel and we move to Santa Fe, a lovely old fashioned colonial hotel with well stocked English library, cable TV and onsite restaurant. As the weather brightens I gradually start to feel stronger and enjoy lying by the pool.
After a week we move down the road to the cheaper but also charming Swiss Oasis where the owner kindly looks out for me as my strength slowly builds. The pool is beautiful and we get to know the six resident cats and some lovely fellow travelers as I am unable to get out and do much exploring.
I do manage it down to the beach on our last three evenings to watch the sun set whilst the surfers ride the Mexican half pipe. The waves are at times over seven metres tall and the surfers here are truly amazing to watch.
We also make it down to one of the smaller bays and realise what this place must have been like when our friend James had been here years ago.
Time has been slipping by as I have been resting and the Day of the Dead is fast approaching! It is something I have always wanted to see and be a part of and I am unwilling to give up going to Oaxaca City to experience it just because I am ill. So we book what seems to be the last room in town and prepare ourselves for reportedly the worst bus journey in Mexico.
