Chiapa de corzo to San Cristobal

Tuxla & Chiapa de Corzo, Oaxaca

April 16 - 17, 2009

Our van is in need of a small radiator hose replacement  so we stop in the very large city of Tuxla to have it looked after. We figure we can stock up on some groceries there too as they have all the big names we have grown to love.

Getting the hose replaced was fairly quick and painless except for the fact that they drained the radiator right there on the street with no obvious concern for where that fluid would eventually end up.

Getting groceries was a bit of an event as Walmart was featuring food things of the Chiapas area. The scene at the entrance to the store was somewhat like a trade show complete with long tables of yummy things to sample and a very loud mariachi band. We weren't sure wether to party or shop!

Upon our return to our van we discovered a severe air leak in the front right tire of the van. After circling the parking lot about 4 times trying to find the way out we eventually had to back out onto the major freeway with Liz stopping traffic long enough for Remy to make the exit. The tire place was back down the freeway which meant we had to cross 4 lanes of traffic , drive back to where we just came from, pull a U-turn across 2 lanes of traffic and drive up the steep driveway to the fix-it shop. Turns out we had a large bolt in the tire so we opted to purchase 2 new ones at a cost of about $400. We now have 4 brand new tires (our van has been good for the Mexican economy!).

On to Chiapa de Corzo  for the boat tour of Sumidero Canyon.

After our long, hot day of looking after the happy camper, none of us was up for the idea of camping at the boat launch for the night so we found the fanciest hotel in town and booked in there. It was a beautiful place with a lovely courtyard and a pool. It was  the perfect spot for a swim and a cold gin and tonic. Liz met a well-heeled woman from El Salvador  who lives in Los Angeles with her Mexican husband. They own a restaurant there and have offered to feed us when we make our way through California- awesome!

The boys are eager to watch a movie in the air conditioned room so we head out for a walk of the plaza to see the magnificent fountain said to resemble the Spanish crown. Built in the 1500's it is even more impressive than the photo. Lots of young people smooching in the park. Seems to be a very regular thing here in Mexico.

Up early we eat the worst breakfast EVER at a restaurant near the boat launch. Powdered milk for our coffee and pre toasted white  bread out of the bag- like at a factory in ANOTHER STATE ( Liz drew a line in the sand over this one and sent it back.) Bowens pancake could have been used as a door knocker.

We pile into the river boat with a bunch of Mexican tourists for the 2 hour tour up the man- made canyon and back. Some interesting sights to see like the stalactite that resembles a seahorse and the Christmas tree waterfall ( minus the water.) We both wonder how many villages were flooded to make way for the new electrical dam and subsequent boat tours. It was a fun trip though and a nice way to keep cool in the staggering heat.

This trip has been full of extremes and today is no exception. We left Chiapa de Corzo at 300m where the temp hovered around 35 degrees and ended up in San Cristobal at 2200m  where the evening temp was about 10 degrees and falling. The roller coaster ride through the mountains was absolutely stunning. We were amazed to see villages built on the tiniest and highest of ridges. We saw many of the indigenous woman walking along the highway wearing their traditional heavy black wool skirts and purple shawls carrying bundles of wood - used for heat- or selling fruit on the roadside. We have stepped into another world!

-Liz 

Green Parrots and Orphans

Hogar Infantil Orphanage

Ocozocoautla, Chiapas

April 13 - 16, 2009

We pulled up stakes from the mango grove and turned toward the Hogar Infantil orphanage located on the outskirts of Ocozocoautla. We anticipate our next leg of the journey, where we drive into the seat of Mexican history and culture.  First though, we want to check out the orphanage, which is listed in the camping guide as a good place to camp and which had been recommended to us by other travelers we have met on the way.

First, though, Liz is desperate for some internet access as deadline is approaching and she needs to wrap up a few loose ends. This entails driving the incredibly narrow and tope-laden streets of this old colonial town. After much turning about- we have learned that Mexicans are terrible at providing directions- we finally locate an internet cafe where Liz can talk to the rest of the world.

It turns out that all of this was needless, as when we arrive at the orphanage, located on the outskirts of town, we learn that it provides wifi free of charge. The only other vehicle parked on one of the five full-service pads is another couple from Calgary! Bernie and Sandra are on a planned two-year trip around North and Central America, also in a camper van. While Remy and Bernie trade mechanical disaster stories, Liz and Sandra learn that they travel in related circles in Calgary due to their work. Sandra even owns the original of a City Palate cover painting! We trade info about travel routes as they are going in the rough opposite direction to us, as well as English language movies and books.

The orphanage runs the campground as a means of developing interest in their work. They refuse to accept payment for camping, instead asking that campers contribute to the work of the orphanage in some way. The usual means is to help in teaching English, but anything is welcome. We had stocked up on some school supplies to donate and brought some sweets to distribute. Unfortunately, we are still in the second week of Semana Santa so the majority of children are away visiting family. The majority of kids here are not true orphans, but rather the children of disadvantaged single parent families or of families that live too far from developed society to give them a good chance at school. There are some kids with behavioural issues, but the vast majority are primarily dealing with issues of poverty. Some of the kids still here are in their early twenties, but pursuing higher learning from their adoptive home. There is an American board of directors that runs the charity aspect of the orphanage, and a Mexican board that considers applications for children to attend. There are two young German men that are doing their obligatory year of social service (as an option to military service) and other professionals donate their time as well.

We did manage to connect with some of the kids during a hard fought soccer game held on the ubiquitous basketball court. It was great to see how the older kids were conscientious of the younger ones, ensuring that everyone got to handle the ball and not running up the score. They were also gracious of the hairy, sweating gringo who made up in enthusiasm what he obviously lacked in skill. For the older kids, it was all about how stylishly they could manipulate the ball and not about hammering the ball into the net- it was far more important how one scored, not how many times!

The camping allows the kids to encounter people from other parts of the world. As part of their development, the kids are also given responsibilities in the various barns on the property. Pigs and chickens are raised, while the goats are employed as lawn clippers. The bathroom dedicated to the campers is located at the end of the chicken barn, which makes for a new variation on the smell normally associated with Mexican bathrooms.

The state of Chiapas is known for, and heavily promotes, its wilderness and the collection of beautiful sites within it. One of them is located near Ocozocoautla, called the Sema de las Cotorras (or Sinkhole of the Parrots). Bernie and Sandra actually prolonged their stay by a day to go see it with us. Bernie thought it would be a good idea to ride the 12 kilometer route on bikes. Knowing the capabilities of our boys, we elected instead to disconnect our van and drive there, which ultimately proved to be the right decision.

We arrived at the park and paid our 20 peso admission fees. The "sema" is a sinkhole 160 meters across and 140 meters deep. It is apparently not the result of a long-term erosion (not above ground, anyway) but instead was a relatively cataclysmic event. The hole sank, taking the jungle with it to form the floor of the hole. We saw some groups of squawking green parrots arrive and fly down to their roosts in the jungle floor of the sinkhole. What was even more impressive were the small groups that were flying up and out of the hole, as they have to spiral upward to reach the open sky. It is apparently more impressive is in the morning, when large groups of these endangered birds perform the same maneuver to begin their day's search for food. The sinkhole itself is mighty impressive, with many pre-Hispanic paintings on the rock walls well below the rim.

We hiked halfway around to the tea house located on the far side of the rim. We allowed ourselves to be talked into shelling out another 70 pesos per head (about $7) to do the guided hike into the hole. Things took a turn for the stranger when the staff produced climbing harnesses and helmets for all of us. Bowen became nervous at this point and had misgivings about the trek. Our entire grip was shod in flip flops, but we were assured that they were up to the task of doing the hike. In retrospect, it was probably silly to be asking the Indian staff, who up until the latest generation wore car tire huaraches if anything at all, whether flip flops were suitable.

We followed our guide, taking an incredibly steep single track down from the rim. It eventually met up with a ledge that jutted out about 100 meters up from the floor of the hole and went around about half of the circumference. Where the ledge was particularly treacherous and only a few inches wide, safety ropes had been bolted in to the wall, and it was here that the harnesses were clipped in. In other places, where it was only potentially dangerous, we were on our own. The climb was, at points, frankly quite terrifying, as we teetered along the rough ledge, loose rock overhead, 300 feet up from the next piece of flat ground. The boys did wonderfully- Hollis stepped up and set a brave example, while Bowen, who was reduced to tears a couple of times, soldiered bravely on and was justifiably proud of himself at the end. Sandra was not really digging the experience at times either, but when a scared 8 year old is doing it, how can an adult in the group protest?

We made it around the ledge and back up on the far side. It was a jovial group that continued back to the tea house, buoyed by the relief that comes from having passed safely through a hair-raising experience. The refreshments at the tea house tasted better than usual. We met a Mexican family, the mother and daughter of which had done the hike with us. The daughter is interested in visiting Canada and they invited us to visit them in Mexico City if we are passing through.

We piled back into the van as dusk fell- definitely the right decision- and negotiated the cattle and potholes on the road back out. We all had dinner at a taqueria in town before heading back into the orphanage. Bernie and Sandra are heading out tomorrow, while we will be spending one more day at the orphanage to chill out.

-Remy

Tehuantepec- It rained Mangos all night

Tehuantepec, Oaxaca

April 12 - 13, 2009

Despite the brutal directions in our guide book we bumbled and fumbled our way to the Santa Maria campground just outside of Tehuantepec. Once we cleared the scary, garbage strewn, potholed  road we found ourselves in the most eerie, interesting and fragrant campsite yet.  This is an old sugarcane plantation and sometimes RV campground although there wasn't any sign of either while we were there.

There were many, many mango trees of all different varieties( we have since learned that there are over 100 varieties) and fallen mangos were everywhere! It was difficult to find a place to park where we were sure to not be hit by any during the night.

Before dinner we decided to walk through the banana and papaya plantation. We literally had to watch our step as the mangoes were falling all around us! We also came across several groups of Mexicans who were quite surprised to see us. Imagine how out of place we must have looked to them? I'm sure they were asking themselves, where the hell did they come from? 

Liz gathered freshly fallen mangos from the ground and all the while wondered out loud about all the waste.

The next morning as we set to leave I came across the sight of this farmer and his ox cart. I think it is just the most beautiful sight and sums up our tour through Mexico so well.

Our tour through the market of Tehuantepec was quick but eventful. We found a group of the traditionally dressed women we had read so much about. Turns out they were just returning from a fiesta ( no, this woman is NOT standing in a hole) Apparently women rule this town and during certain fiestas they stand on the roof tops and throw fruits and vegetables at the men standing below.

I had my supply of mangos just in case but we didn't come across such an event.

The market here was a bit insane as was the traffic. It's a relatively small town but the market area was unlike anything we have experienced so far, even in the big cities. Our boys have quickly learned how to negotiate the bevy of taxis, cars, oxen, fruit vendors, pedicabs, nursing mothers, fellow cyclists, mangy street dogs and collectivos.

The last photo was taken as an example of Mexican Security. We see glass embedded in the tops of courtyards everywhere.

-Liz

Zipolite- Mexico's ONLY nude beach, Mazunte, San Augustinillo

Zipolite, Guerrero

April  7 - 12  2009 

We had been looking forward to Zipolite not because it is a nude beach - although that would be interesting- but because we had heard from fellow travelers that it has a distinct vibe. We were told to expect hippies, many European travelers, candles, yoga, great inexpensive restaurants .. .... and of course, nudists. We were stoked!

We followed the rudimentary directions given to us by 2 different people and sure enough we landed exactly where we needed to be. Sounds simple enough but when you are given directions like "turn right at the soccer pitch, left at the brick wall, near the 4 story white building, that sort of thing, you're never really sure where you'll end up. We found "Marias" place which was basically the bungalow/restaurant owners back yard which was right on Zipolite beach but at the quiet end. 

We set up about 6 feet from the restaurant washing cistern and for the next 5 days found ourselves right in the middle of all the family activities. We witnesses everything from teeth brushing, washing of ALL the restaurant dishes, showering of children, pressing of bags and bags of oranges for the restaurant, and the cleaning and filleting of a 22 kilo tuna!. All the while Maria washed, cooked, cleaned, scrubbed and swept the entire area about 3 times a day. On the weekend several visitors set up tents on the beach side which meant they carried or wheeled their luggage and tents right past our breakfast table. It was a constant flow for 5 days. We now understand why we have witnessed so many Mexican  people having sex or at least a major make out session in the ocean. It's the only place to be alone!

The great thing about all this activity was that Bowen and Hollis made friends with Daniel and Julio, the 2 Mexican kids who lived there. They played soccer, showed them their Nintendo DS, and each of them made spinners from pounded bottle caps and string. There wasn't a whole lot of talking going on but they all had fun playing anyway.

We met 3 young people from Ireland who are in Guanajuato teaching English ( with a strong Irish accent, I assume) and were in Zipotite for the holiday. Each morning they borrowed plates and cutlery to use for their breakfast- they were traveling light.

There are 2 other towns along this stretch of beach( Mazunte and San Augustinillo) and we are eager to explore. Up until the early 90's Mazunte's main source of income was from the slaughter of sea turtles- about 50,000 a year! After the ban on this sort of activity the town turned the slaughterhouse into a turtle research center. Many of the captive turtles are recuperating from some sort of illness and will eventually be released back into the sea. There are 8 varieties of sea turtles in the world and 7 of them are found here in Mexico.

San Augustinillo was just a few kms away so we walked in the heat to check out the  honor system and book buying library as well as some of the more upscale accommodations offered here. Bowen has been itching to take a ride in a "camioneta'  which is a covered pick up truck outfitted with wooden seats down each side, a hand rail for standing and some seats over the cab of the truck. Guess where our boys sat for the .50c ride back to Zipotlite? These things are usually jammed with people but for some reason this one was empty so we took loads of goofy pictures and hoped like hell our kids wouldn't get flung out the top as we made our way back over the potholed, winding road.

Too tired and sticky to cook we opted for dinner in Zipolite. The main ( and only) cobbled street is closed to traffic after 7pm and instantly fills with artists hawking everything from Argentinian earrings , I bought some!, to hand made tamales. 

Our 1/4 bbq'd chicken dinner included, rice, grilled onions and tortillas for everyone for the grand total of $7.50. The walk back to our end of the beach is always interesting as the smell of pot wafts past our noses and some of the nudists are out for their evening walk. Our kids are experiencing a lot on this trip!

The architecture on this beach is very unique! You can see from the photos what I mean. The "cabanas"up top rent for about $20/night - double that during Semana Santa. Hammocks are available too for about $4.

The Easter bunny found us in our little van which made for a quick hunt Sunday morning.  The idea that he might not find us was all consuming for Bowen. He even went to the trouble of making a sign for the Easter bunny and leaving him a carrot in case he got hungry.

I came across this procession in the street on my way to get eggs or milk or something. These Catholics are serious about Easter!.

Our last day in Zipolite we decided to check out the small beach just beyond the rocks to the east. Much to our surprise it was the preferred spot for the local "flamer" population - not that there is anything wrong with that. It took the boys a considerable amount of time to just "get over it' and have some fun in the crazy, crashing surf. It was hard to relax in the water as the undertow would try to pull you out to sea when it wasn't trying to thrash you against the rocks ( or a set of naked genitals) Unfortunately for me it was the latter and I found myself apologizing to the guy who had been strutting his stuff up and down the  very small beach all afternoon. There is nothing like getting tossed upsidedown by the surf, finding which way is up then coming face to dink with a TOTALLY sunscreened Mexican .

-Liz

 

Puerto Escondido during Semana Santa

Puerto Escondido, Guerrero 

April 3 - 7, 2009

We packed up our home in Pie de la Cuesta and hit the road to Puerto Escondido. We had been warned about the transito cops in Acapulco, who apparently keep alive the tradition of collecting for the policeman's ball alive through stops on tourist vehicles. The countless hours we had spent stuck on buses in traffic jams during our trips in and out of town had also forewarned us of the perils of traversing the city. Luckily there is a bypass route around the north side of town which makes for relatively quick passage. Unfortunately, Mexican highway signage was up to its usual standard, and on the far side of town, in order to travel east, we first had to head south, take a retorno and head back north past the road we had been on before heading east- all without signage! luckily, we are developing a sense for how highways are engineered in this country and made the maneuver on the first try. What we did not know was that this heralded the beginning of what would become the longest and most arduous travel day of all so far in Mexico.

It is fairly common knowledge to Mexicans and travelers alike that the stretch of the Mexico 200 highway between Acapulco and Puerto Escondido represents the most heavily tope-laden stretch of highway in the country, which is saying a lot. Over the 240 km journey, the "official" count is 231 topes ( speed bumps), which the easy math indicates is one approximately every kilometer. You can imagine what the average speed is, when the topes require a near complete stop by our vehicle to avoid slamming the trailer hitch bike rack we have installed on the rear. It took us nine hours to cover the distance, in sweltering temperatures. For one of what has been very few times on this journey, we were forced to travel after sunset for the last leg into Puerto Escondido.

We had already made a connection with a friend of Liz' Uncle Gord that lived in Puerto Escondido. Sylvia had offered to let us park on the street in front of her house and plug in. We did not want to impose so late in the evening and decided to hook up with her later. We continued on into town, and after a meal on the sidewalk along Zicatela beach, we washed up at Cabanas Edda. There had been a heavy mist along the beach, due to the "Mexican Pipeline" surf that Puerto Escondido is famous for, so we were happy to be installed further up the hillside above that. We parked the van amongst the cabanas and bungalows in the beautifully shaded grounds. Dona Edda, the proprietor, explained to us that we would only be able to stay until Monday, which after some negotiation we were able to have extended to Tuesday. It was a simple question of economics- the space that we occupied at M$250 per night (about 25 bucks) she would be able to rent out to four parties over the course of Semana Santa.  We searched the town and found that not only are all the hotels booked solid but that where we are is one of the nicest places here for camping.

We soon began to appreciate the arc that things were going to travel as the biggest holiday in the country wound up its climax on Easter weekend. We did not have a decent night's sleep, as Mexicans believe that when they are having a good time it is impolite not to share it with everyone else around. The surfers and the families were quiet after 10 or 11 PM, but when the young bloods returned from the bars at 2 or 3 AM they thought nothing about opening the doors of their vehicles and cranking the stereo! Otherwise it was a beautiful spot.

We found out the hard way that the Super Che super market receives fruits and vegetables on Friday nights. Being there on a Friday afternoon meant that there was a dearth of whole fresh foods. It is an odd thing, in a country that produces such an excess of food, to be in a grocery store that is almost devoid of fruits and vegetables.

Along the Zicatela beach is the funky part of town. It is newly paved with textured concrete sidewalks and streets, with many cool shops and restaurants. We found the Cinemar theatre, which plays English language movies and sells English books, and signed up to watch "Stepbrothers". Unfortunately, we had not checked the rating on the movie, and after about 1/2 an hour we had to remove the boys from the comfortable, air conditioned, 12-seat theatre when the content became unsuitable for their virgin ears. They were very upset, as they could have been employed as technical advisors to the movie and identified heavily with the characters. We are still hearing snippets of the script from our parrot-like boys. Another night, Liz and Remy went to Sativa Restaurant, a funky, upscale Mexican fusion joint overlooking the beach. We had stuffed avocado, shrimp, filet mignon and drinks for a total of M$300 (30 bucks)!

We did a walking tour of the beaches, of which there are about 1/2 a dozen in the Puerto Escondido area, each with its own distinct character. An incredible paved, waterfront walkway along the rocks connects the Playa Principal with the Playa Manzanillo. Hollis caught a fish to eat for supper in the rocks. It was so hot that we took a cab home M$30 ($3), the better to get started on happy hour with drinks in the hammock. Hammock culture is huge here, with one located outside of just about every door, and usually a body or two in them. They can even be rented by travelers for the night for about$4.

We met some interesting new people while in Puerto Escondido. Armando owns an art gallery next door to Sativa, and speaks excellent English. He and his journalist wife, Paula, are transplants from Santa Rosario. She is originally American and he is well travelled, so they have a comprehensive appreciation of the beauties and frustrations of Mexico. Armando suggested a morning itinerary for Sunday of breakfast at Las Margaritas before heading to the market. We took his advice, and ended up meeting him and his wife at the restaurant. We ended up getting some travel advice for the rest of our journey through Mexico which seems sound and comes at a good time, as we are a bit hazy at this point on what the best route might be. The market was interesting, too, with some new fruits, veggies and baked goods that we have not seen before.

We also spent an evening with Sylvia and her husband John, who had invited us over for dinner. They are housesitting a house with a great little pool in the court yard and palapa bar beside it. The pool itself had swim-up bar stools built in, and after playing hard for three hours straight in the pool the boys greatly enjoyed sitting in the pool, sipping flavoured Bonafont water from martini glasses. We had a great meal and much good conversation, and even Skyped Liz' unlcle Gordie who had connected us. It was a very nice break from the usual tour routine.

The next morning saw us up to the alarm to get ready for the fishing trip Remy had organized. The captain, Martin, had the nicest fishing boat in the harbour, but whatever competence allowed that luxury apparently ended there. He was supposed to pick us up in his Suburban at our camp site and stop on the way to the boat to pick up ice and beer. The agreed rendez vous time came and went, and Remy began to have concerns that the deposit he had paid might have gone up in smoke. It turned out that Martin had forgotten about the daylight savings time change and then had been unable to start his truck. He sent his son to fetch us, which meant that we had to hump all of our gear down the hill and along the beach to the harbour. Things seemed a little disorganized there, so while we waited we had a good look at the sail fish another fisherman had hauled up on the beach. Once in the boat, it became apparent that we were not going to be getting any ice and that Martin had no bait fish. We spend some time, going from cayuca to cayuca (small fishing canoes) until we found some bait fish to purchase. Finally we got going out to sea. We saw one whale and numerous sea turtles during the trip. We ended up catching six Spanish mackerel (called bonitas here) but nothing bigger. We had hoped for a tuna or dorado, but the seas had clouded up with green algae and Martin's heart did not really seem to be into things. We cut the trip short at 3 hours and returned to shore. Martin filleted two of the fish for us to take home while we took two more to a restaurant and made arrangements for dinner. The other two we gave to Martin.

We returned to the beach for dinner and had a wonderful meal actually served on china plates with metal cutlery, a rarity here. We went to the "Adoquin", a pedestrian-only street that offered some very interesting shopping. We checked out another campground and saw groups of Mexicans that had arrived in bus loads kipped out on mats beside the bus they had arrived in- that was how they were going to spend the Semana Santa! Infants, old people, everybody spooned together under the stars. We saw other groups that had arrived in cattle trailers and were living in those. It is amazing the commitment Mexicans make to spending this weekend on the beach, the more the merrier. As much as we love Mexican culture, it is a bit manic for our staid Norteno tastes, and we are happy to be leaving for a quieter locale.

-Remy

Acapulco is all you would imagine and more!

Pie de la Cuesta (Acapulco), Guerrero 28 March - 2 April 2009

We took our leave of Grandma Sharon and Molly Ann in Zihuatnejo, allowing them a week chill out at their own pace instead of having to operate at ours. We turned the nose of the van southward and began the arduous journey to the Acapulco area. The highway is tortuous, two lanes with endless topes. The lunch stop was at a roadside restaurant offering tacos of "barbacoa de chivo", which we only figured out later is stewed goat. And when they stew a goat, they stew the whole goat. There were bits of tripe and stuff with tubes coming out of it, which we obviously did not point out to the boys who were quite game about trying something new.We found or way to the Acapulco Trailer Park, located ironically enough in Pie de la Cuesta, which is about 8 km north of Acapulco on a narrow isthmus between the Pacific Ocean and the large Laguna de Coyuca. The town itself is quite nice, except for the fact that at night there is little to do- like Tenacatita, it is a day destination and the sidewalks roll up at sunset. We were the only rig in the park for the first two days, and by the end of our stay there were only two more.

The focus of the town is on the lagoon, where much fishing, water skiing and tourism goes on. It was neat to see the fresh water culture as a change to the beach culture. We spent the first day on a boat tour of the lagoon (M$100 each, ten dollars), which took us for lunch on an island at a restaurant that had three small crocs in a plastic tub. We then went to another restaurant on the barra that divides the lagoon from the ocean. The boys fished using their Mexican fishing rods (an aluminum beer can with a few meters of line and a hook) and got the Mexican kids jumping from the boat into the river where we were parked. Remy tried a coco preparado, which consists of a fresh coconut with gin, lime and sugar added to the coco water- delicious (and cheap- M$30, three dollars)! We missed some of the tour as the captain spoke Spanish rapidly, but we picked up on the high points, like the island of birds, the hacienda owned by one of the higher-ups at Modelo (one of the major breweries here) and the location where Rambo: First Blood Part II was filmed.

We took the scenic and treacherous  bus trip twice into Acapulco, which is a minimum one hour each way. We unfortunately picked "cruise ship" day for our first visit, so we were constantly being assailed by hawkers, hucksters and "walking tour guides" wanting some of our tourist dollars. 

We caught the famous cliff divers and were in awe as they each free climbed up from the water along the craggy cliffs to the perch they would eventually dive from. Some did a graceful swan dive and two did a toe curling double summersault. We discovered later that the price to watch the divers doubles to $7 us just before the tour buses arrive. The smart, independent tourists only had to pay $3.50!

 We made it to the Fuerte San Diego, which was an interesting museum trip, and Liz had a pedicure from a very masculine transexual. The boys have obviously become quite worldly as they didn't make any comments about the sexuality of this person until we were well away from the salon. Little did they know  though that the attractive owner of the shop, the one showing lots of cleavage and sporting long braids was a boy too!!

 The second day in town we spent at the Cici Water Park. This is one of the biggest any of us had ever seen.  It was great, as the park was not very busy and no lineups were to be had. Remy had a rough start to the day- the first ride down a slide saw him get slammed so hard near the end that it opened the skin on his scalp and made the lifeguard jump, and on the second ride he skimmed across the water of the landing pool and rode completely over top of Bowen, who was still trying to get out of his inner tube. We watched the Mexican dolphin show (not quite the same level of quality as that at San Diego), ate a bunch of junk food and played in the wave pool. Altogether a fun and adventurous day.

-Remy

Grandma and Molly-Ann come for a visit!

Zihuatanejo, Guerrero 15-28 March 2009

Zihuaaaaa! We washed up at the south end of Playa la Ropa, parked in an RV park at the rear of a restaurant just off the beach. We are appreciating more and more being somewhere other than right on the beach, where the wind and the waves pummel a person relentlessly. Our spot at the El Manglar is ideal, with but a short walk across a wooden bridge that spans the lagoon to the beach. The restaurant palapa is isolated from the beach as a result, but the breeze still blows through, making it a very pleasant place to hang out. The food is good, too, and the staff extremely helpful and pleasant. The only drawback is that our parking spot is directly exposed to the sun by about 9:00 AM, when the sun clears the surrounding jungle, and the airless parking lot becomes a sauna. It became a stressful thing (oh, the burdens we bear) to be up,exercised,  breakfasted and cleaned up before the sun started to bore a hole in our brains. What else could we do but go to the beach?

The beach is wonderful, with a sandy bottom (which also describes us at the end of the day) and a gentle surf in which the boys were able to play for hours. Liz and I would get up and work out on the beach while it was cool first thing in the morning and the restaurants were still setting up. There were a lot of people out running the beach, which made for a good audience for Remy while he did his own routine involving the heaving of boulders and chin ups in a tree. We did all the usual beach things, buying from the vendors and going for a parasailing trip. It turned out that we picked the best crew, who happened to be the ones that stored their equipment in the RV park at night. Bowen rode with Liz while Remy and Hollis bravely did solo trips (I won't say who was the more nervous). Conditions were perfect and all our landings were textbook. We did see some of the other parasailing crews up the beach drop their clientele in the drink or bring them down for rough landings through he course of our stay. We also heard stories about clients cords getting tangled in the masts of the moored sailboats and in one case causing it to capsize. We're happy we heard these stories after we had done the ride.

We took one morning and hiked to Las Gatas beach, following the road to its end and then the pathway along the rocks. We braved the gauntlet of enramada restaurant owners, each of whom highjacked us along the way in an effort to gain our patronage. Each has their own tactic- one offers the best access to the water for snorkeling, another has sea turtles in a large plastic tub.(this infuriated Liz and Hollis to the point where they told the owner they wouldn't patronize his establishment because of his capture of these sea creatures.) The one that offered beers for M$10 (a dollar) had Remy hooked, but we were only on a recce.

 We continued to the far end of the beach and found the Las Gatas beach club, which we ultimately learned is the home of Owen Lee, a local personality (or rogue, depending on whom you speak to). He was the first American to work with Jacques Cousteau as a camera man on the Calypso, and when he was no longer able to work on the boat became Cousteau's touring speaker. He has lived at Las Gatas beach since 1968. He is in his eighties now, but still remarkably fit. We purchased his autobiography from him, which Liz spent the next week reading while sitting on the beach, looking across the bay at Owen Lee's home. The book, A Prisoner in Paradise, is an unwitting tale of hubris on Owen's part, and details a lot of the local history and the other rogues with whom Owen has consorted during his time here.

While in Zihuatanejo, what had begun in Tenacatita as a pimply-looking sore on Remy's right knee cap flared up into a disgusting, oozing pustule that radiated pain all down his right leg and caused his foot to swell. Liz obtained a referral to a doctor from one of the other park dwellers. The doctor didn't bother taking any sort of medical history or vital signs, just asking instead "What is the problem?" When shown the affliction, he pronounced it right away as a parasite whose vector to humans is through dogs. A quick prescription and M$500 (fifty bucks) later and Remy was on his way. A couple of days after taking the one day course of bug-killing medicine, Remy pulled an ugly wad of white tissue from the open sore on his knee, which as of writing two weeks later is still not completely closed up. The reaction that Remy's bandaged wound got from other tourists was to be solicitously asked, "Did you get that from (fill in the blank with every tourist activity you can think of- horseback riding, parasailing, snorkeling, etc.)?" Being unable to lie, Remy would answer honestly with, "Nope, knelt in dog shit and got a parasite." The reaction was funny, but we sure didn't make any new friends, especially those seated next to us at dinner.

Remy's mother, Sharon, and her friend Molly Ann arrived in Ixtapa after we had been in Zihuatanejo for a week. We met them the first day after they arrived and had a swim in the pool. The boys stayed in their room and watched movies while Liz and Remy caught the opening show of the Zihuatanejo International Guitar Festival, which consisted of most of the artists taking turns giving a two or three song taster of the their music. That helped us choose who we wanted to see later in the week. We caught the Pistoleros at the children's concert, and Liz and Remy went out for dinner one night to see Cienfue, a Panamanian singer-songwriter, and Patrick Sweany, an awesome American blues artist with a very distinctive style.

We have to mention here even though Hollis might be upset that we are "telling everyone". While at the  bathroom after the children's fest concert,  Sharon noticed that a gaggle of girls were hanging around looking at Hollis. I was sure she was imagining but sure enough a whole gang- like 30, were surrounding him and clicking photos  on their cell phones. He patiently waited for them to take a photo then asked if we could please leave NOW! As we were leaving the girl in the photo followed us to get her shot. Wow, this is most definitely a new chapter in the parenting book for both his parents. I guess he is as adorable as we have always thought he was.

We did go back to the resort in Ixtapa another day to visit with Mom and Molly Ann. The boys were in the pool when Remy was informed that we all had to be signed in as guests, as it is an all-inclusive resort. We found out that they wanted to charge us M$600 (sixty dollars) per head for the privilege of using the amenities at their rundown, 2 1/2 star resort. We went back to Mom and Molly Ann's room and found out that we were not even supposed to be there, as guests are not allowed in the rooms. We repaired to the lobby, which is the designated visiting area. The resort was dead, and we were among what was very few people at the resort and greatly outnumbered by staff. We played a couple of games of Scrabble while the security staff hovered around, having identified us all as rabble rousers. Before leaving, we went to get into the elevator to get our stuff from Mom's room, but were were accosted at the door and physically prevented from getting on. We tried to explain that we only wished to retrieve our stuff, but the staff understood no English and our Spanish was not up to the task as the elevator door was closing repeatedly on various limbs. We retreated and explained our situation to another staff member, who finally allowed that one member of our party could go up to my mother's room, by which time she had already gone and returned with our bags of stuff. This was only one of a few situations that unfortunately made Mom feel like she was besieged in the resort, instead of being an esteemed guest. It was the one inhospitable moment we have so far experienced in Mexico, and is characteristic of the fact that Ixtapa is a completely artificial construction of Norteamericano values in what is otherwise an extremely friendly and hospitable culture. If your travel agent ever wants you to go to the Hotel Fontan in Ixtapa, don't go.

Luckily, this all happened after Liz and Bowen and Mom got their 15 minutes of fame on the beach in Zihuatanejo. Liz had met and agreed to be interviewed by a Canadian crew that was hired by the Mexican government to do a series highlighting the safe and fun nature of tourism in Mexico to combat all the bad press that the last American administration had fed to the media. If you want to check out www.whatisreallyhappeninginmexico.com, go to the interviews from Zihuatanejo in Part 2 and you will see the photogenic Liz and Bowen in one, my mom in another, and a third installment we were not aware of until later, when they filmed around our camper van while we were at the beach. A pretty cool souvenir of the trip!

-Remy