Before I begin…
Funnily enough, I had started to write this post while I was still in Colombia, but soon after I was notified of a repatriation flight back to the UK, and have had to rewrite this section again. Since coming back to London, I have stayed in a couple of AirBnBs and fell into a lull of doing not much. Tried to look for some jobs, but had failed to secure one in this very competitive time. Honestly though, half of me wanted to have a job, the other half of me don’t really want to give the year up to this global pandemic. So as of writing, I am in Italy, but no doubt that by the time I finish this, I’ll probably be back in London once more. Below is a photo of the sunset in Taganga, Colombia, which would have been more relevant, but who cares?
To beach continued…
If you haven’t read the 2nd part of my Mexico blog post, here’s a quick refresher - I was in Puerto Escondido, and I had booked a hotel in Zipolite, situated a couple of hours away by bus.
The morning after the big party along the beach, I’m ready to head to my next destination at about lunch time. It’s not a quick walk to the bus stop, especially the bags I’m lugging around with in the midday heat. I get a Facebook message from good-guy Dr Finn telling me that there’s no surf where he’s at and he’s going to join me to go to Mazunte/Zipolite. He had already booked tickets back to the town he was staying at, and he needs to check if he will be able to catch the bus at a different (later) stop than originally intended. By now, I am already at the colectivo bus stop waiting for the next bus, and the attendant there is wondering why I’m still sitting there as 2 buses leave. “No issue”, Finn finally messages me regarding his bus ticket situation.
Upon arriving at an intersection, there are what looks to be taxis, but are actually colectivos. Of course, we do not realise this, and both of us hop into the taxi-not-taxi. Finn gets off at Mazunte, and the taxi takes me further down to Zipolite to the hotel.
The hotel is right along the beach, and has a pool in the centre. This area, I should mention, is clothing-optional, so nakedness can be seen at the hotel and at the beach. I’m no prude, but I’m also self-conscious of my body enough that I don’t do it often. In a spa situation, it’s easier, I guess, but out in the open, feels different - in more ways than one.
The one where nothing much happens
This is my chance to continue to do nothing. Well, close enough to doing nothing. For the majority of my days in Zipolite, I am either sitting in the pool, or lying on my bed with the fan on because there’s no air-conditioner. I attempt to go into the waters, but the current is strong, and the lifeguards always seem to be on high alert when people go in.
A couple of hours before 6pm, I take a colectivo to Mazunte to catch the sunset at Punta Cometa. There’s a bit of a hike to it from the main road to the viewpoint, but at a fork in the path, I choose the wrong way and I’m walking away from where I want to be. Instead of heading back, I see that there’s a way along the coast that I can take. Wearing my flip-flops as my footwear, which has no grip at all, I slip and land on my butt. I dust myself off and am more concerned with the state of my DSLR camera.
Eventually, I descend onto a relatively quiet beach, with a rocky hill on the other end; where I want to be for the sunset.
Reunited once more
Instead of catching the colectivo from Puerto Escondido which runs much more frequent than the ADO buses, Brayden and Laura (B&L) miss seeing the sunset with me, and I head back to Zipolite again. By the time I get back to the main road though, it’s dark and in need of a trip back. I ask a shop owner about the last one, and she assures me that there should be at least one more, and sure enough, I see one coming towards the town (but going the other direction). To make sure, I use my broken Spanish to ask if they’re coming back around to go back to Zipolite, but the driver tells me to take the taxi. Annoyed at the thought of spending the inflated price of having to catch a taxi, I ask how much it is, and it is way too much, so I walk up and down the road to see if I can catch a better deal. However, to my surprise, the colectivo did indeed loop back around, and I hop on promptly, just in case space runs out.
I’m pretty much just relaxing between my hotel bed, the pool, and the beach, before I meet up with B&L at the bus stop to catch an overnight bus to San Cristobal.
Looking through San Cristobal
The hostel we are staying at is great, there is a large communal area, and bar and garden out the back. It’s always quite draining after travelling in a long-distance bus, and an overnight one no less, so we spend the day pretty chilled at the hostel, only going out for a routine haircut and food. Since it’s Friday, Dr Finn messages me telling me that he’ll be arriving in town tonight for the weekend with his colleagues, but at a different hostel. But before that happens, there’s more fun to be had at the hostel when the bar opens up for some socialising with free cocktails.
The next morning, waking up with the intention to join a city walking tour (yet again), we find the unfamiliar sight of rain outside. While we ponder what we will do today, Bray and Laura are getting ready to head off as the latter is catching a flight to Canada in a week or so, and they want to hit some choice spots before that day eventuates. The rain subsides later on, and we head out for some doughnuts and to meet up with Finn.
When we first checked into the hostel, we were given a wristband to wear as a way for the staff to verify that you’re a guest, but at one point Finn comes in to have a chat with us (and also getting some free food that all the actual guests were receiving). No more than 10 minutes, a guy comes up and asks if he’s a guest to which he responds honestly. The reception/security guy happens to be finishing up his shift and insists on escorting him out. Up until this hostel, I’ve generally been staying at pretty open hostels that allow guests. After all, the backpacking experience is about meeting people, regardless of where they’re staying.
In the evening, the hostel is serving burgers for dinner and more drinks in the open area at the back of the hostel. There are murmurs of some party/event happening later on, but there seems to be conflicting reports on where exactly this place is - and as it turns out, it’s both. Finn and I head off to one of the bars, and there is a live band playing, where at one point, the trumpet guy hops onto a table to solo. Unfortunately though, it seems that we arrived a little late, and are at the tail-end of the performance.
Later on, Bray and Laura turns up with some other hostellers, and it looks like they’ve had a few drinks already.
We continue back towards the hostel direction to go to the other bar, but given that I am running out of cash, and don’t have my cards with me to withdraw more, I say goodnight to my friends. What’s more, I have to wake up the next day to join a canyon tour.
Canyon handle it
The next morning, I see Bray and Laura packing up and getting ready for their taxi ride to the airport, so I bid my farewells, but we had already organised to meet later on in Tulum in a couple of weeks (sans Laura).
At some time after 9 o’clock, a minivan came to the hostel to pick a few of us up for the Sumidero Canyon tour. The first part of the tour, we are cruising in a boat through the canyon, surrounded by high sheer cliffs as we snake through.
The views are spectacular and breathtaking.
When we get to the end of the canyon, our boat, along with another are clamped onto a vendor boat - they’re selling drinks, crisps and fruit. I am perplexed by the amount of people who are shelling out the money for them, it’s only been like 30 minutes, and these other tourists must each now? Right under the sun with no shade, we are there for about 15 minutes until all the orders are attended to. Then the boat kicks up a gear, and we speed back to the start.
When we booked the tour, there were two options - just boat tour, or the boat tour with panoramic views. Luckily, we opted for the latter, having just experienced the boat tour, we wondered how brief the tour would have been if it were just that.
We jump back into the minivan to now drive up to the 4 different viewpoints to see the canyon from above; to see down at the river that we were cruising through just an hour beforehand. As we drive higher, the viewpoints get better and better, and in hindsight, we probably didn’t need to visit the 3 that preceded the final stop.
The rest of it…
By now, it’s mid afternoon, and we haven’t eaten yet. Surprise, surprise, we’re taken to a restaurant with a flat-fee buffet, and since it’s way passed peak lunch time, it looks like we’re getting the scraps. The food isn’t terrible, but the choices are limited, and the price is inflated for Mexican standards. Alas, this is just part and parcel with these kind of trips.
Finn departs after “lunch” as the town we’re at is closer to where he is living/working at, so I say goodbye to another friend, and I’m back to solo travelling once more.
Without feeling the need to “do something”, I take a rest day before I go to Palenque and Merida.