Saturday, March 21, 2009

Black sand, white bums




Tenacatita, Jalisco to Cuyutlan, Colima 3-4  March, 2009

We were finally "done" in Tenacatita and anxious to get to the turtle grounds of Maruata. A relatively early start for us was enabled by the fact that we were going to do breakfast in Melaque at the ultra-gringo restaurant, Roosters. It is a place very popular with the pink set as it is owned by some West Coast Canadians who know a thing or two about curing a tequila sunrise. Liz stayed at the restaurant doing some work over their internet connection while Remy and the boys did a covert waste water dumping operation at the Melaque RV park.

We hit the road, southbound again into terra incognito (for us, anyway). More beautiful highway and the van running like a top made for a nice drive. We stopped in a little roadside hamlet which had the most amazing selection of fruit that we have seen. We were introduced to the "yaka" (pronounced, of course, as "jaka"), which grows to a  tremendous size and has an incredibly floral bouquet. They appear to favour making juice of it as the texture is quite rubbery.

We arrived in Manzanillo a few hours later, famished and craving some beef. We found a taqueria that appeared to be successful and favoured by actual Mexicans so we pulled over. Liz tried the "memelas", which is the local variation of the Mexican pizza served up on a sope crust. Bowen, continuing to display exceptional maladroitness, managed to spill most of his drink all over the table, making a sticky mess of the tablecloth.

Once our restaurant adventure was complete, we piled into the van to continue on our way through to Maruata. We still have not learned to stop counting on things in Mexico! The dismal highway signage that is characteristic of much of the country is elevated to a degree of confusion in Manzanillo that so far takes the cake. We followed what appeared to be the main road through the city to its south end where, without warning, we were faced with a fork in the road, either tine of which appeared to be a likely candidate to take us out of town. Our choice of lane forced us left, which almost immediately took us into the rabbit's warren of Viejo Manzanillo. We negotiated one way streets barely wide enough for the van to pass, getting turned around to go back to where we had been. We somehow negotiated a couple of 7-way corners and got ourselves back onto the other way through downtown. It seemed to dead-end as well, and nobody we asked seemed to know how to get out of town. We finally got some direction  that took us on a route worthy of a Harry Potter movie. We still find it hard to believe that the route we took was the one we were supposed to be on. We looked so obviously out of place that when we stopped to consider which way to go, people on the street would just wave us on in the right direction.

We finally made it onto the  road southbound out of town. It was a series of dozens of little two-tope hamlets, which slows progress considerably. And this is considered to be part of the Mexico 200 highway! It has been re-named Ruta 2010 between Manzanillo and Acapulco, but is hardly worth the distinction. We finally ended up on a cuota highway and were able to begin cruising.

Our various stops had cost us a lot of time and it was apparent that we were not going to make it to Maruata tonight. We decided to stop over in Cuyutlan, where we had been told there was a turtle sanctuary. We were forced to pay the toll before we got there, only to find that the turn-off was a kilometer beyond the toll booth. We pulled into town about an hour before sunset to find one of the sleepiest towns we have yet seen. We were desperate to have laundry done after our time in the wilderness of Tenacatita. We found a lavanderia that was still open and were told it could be done that night. Remy got to talking to the fellow and found that, in another of the odd entrepreneurial pairings we have encountered in this country, he also makes custom surf boards! Felipe, who named his company Karol after his son, learned fibreglassing while he lived in San Diego and became a surf board builder.

We found a place to park for the night, located on a road beside a beachfront restaurant. We asked the restaurateur if it was OK to park there and he said yes, it is quite tranquil in Cuyutlan. He graciously turned on the streetlight for us. We wandered the mostly-deserted town and found the beautiful malecon that they built along the short hotel row. The beach has black sand, and testament to how hot that must get is the way umbrellas are set up to overlap and the wooden or palm frond walkways that are laid out on the sand to get people near the water. We made a quick search for turtles on the beach, without success, and found out that the laundry would not be ready until the morning.

We set up shop at our roadside camp site. The boys were put to bed, then Liz and Remy set up to clean off the stickiness of the day. Taking turns pouring water over each other's heads, they showered al fresco on the sidewalk beside the van. There just may be something to this naturism thing! I still don't know why nudists insist on playing volleyball and riding bikes, though- some things are just better with clothes on.

After a very quiet night, we were awakened by the bustle of the restaurant outside our doors. We had our own breakfast on the sidewalk then went and grabbed the laundry. We wanted to hit the internet cafe so Liz could check in at work, but it was closed and not due to open until 10ish. The boys found an arcade where the games cost 1 peso (10 cents) and found some way to circumvent the timer on the zombie slaughter game they wanted to play, so for about 40 cents they managed to play hard for about 30 minutes. The internet cafe never opened for us, so we left to go to the turtle sanctuary.

On the way, we stopped into the Salt Museum. Colima, the state, is known for sea salt production, and Cuyutlan is still a major producer. The museum is housed in one of the old salt warehouses. Unfortunately, everything was in Spanish and nobody was interested in having Remy translate all the placards. We did buy a kilo of salt for 5 pesos (50 cents) that was produced less than a kilometer away. Cool!

We found our way to the turtle sanctuary, which apparently also hosts a swimming pool, where we hoped to cool and clean off a bit. Much to our chagrin, we were there on the one day, Wednesday, that it is closed! Two of our objectives for the day, stymied! Once again, we still haven't learned not to count on things here.

The drive southbound took us out of Colima, which is a relatively small state, and onto the incredibly beautiful coastal highway of Michoacan. We had our first official stop at the border, with the Mexican Immigration service checking that all our paperwork was in order. They were very helpful and quick, making it a not unpleasant experience. The rest of the day was spent taking in the breathtaking vistas of the Pacific Ocean from the highway as we drove the mountainous route. We stopped in La Placita for an internet break and checked out a few of the "centros ecoturisticos" along the way, but decided to keep with the original plan and continue to Maruata, which will be the subject of our next couple of blogs.

-Remy

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