Month in Mexico: Part 6

AHHHHHH... I did absolutely no work for the past two days except to search for a car. I never wanted a car all these years but the minute Rob left Purdue, I realized how much we used his (I owe you more gas money bud.) Also, someone please tell me that peanut butter is excellent for me cos I just ate 2 giant spoonfuls of it.

Anyywaayy, I had just come back to Cancun and my plan was to go to this island called Isla Holbox (pronounced hobosh). I bought the ticket to this town called "Chiquilla" from where one takes the ferry to Holbox. Now under normal circumstances, me being super absent-minded and missing buses is almost normal. In this case however, I must have stood erect right next to the guy checking tickets, for some 30 mins. I asked him about the bus diligently at 10 min intervals and he kept pointing to me that it wasn't 1.45 pm as shown on the ticket yet. I then went to him exactly at 1.45 pm and he told me the bus hadn't arrived. I then went back at 1.48 pm dot and somehow he tells me that I missed the bus. I have no freaking clue how this miracle happened. I went back seething to the ticket lady, asking her to gimme a ticket for the next bus, and she said the dreaded word, "manana" which means tomorrow essentially. I was so crazy mad. I am embarrassed to admit that I lost my temper and yelled, "Does no one in this godforsaken bus company speak English?". The minute I said that, I realized how I was acting like the exact same douchebags that I cannot stand. I was in their country, they didn't need to know how to speak English, I should be speaking Spanish. I had no idea what to freakin do and then I remembered that this guy I had met in San Cristobal, Gary, mentioned he was staying in Playa del Carmen (beach town, an hour away from Cancun). So I decided to head out to Playa and chill with Gary instead of fretting in Cancun.

This is how it looked pretty much as I stepped out of the hostel

I dunno who said this to me, but it describes most accurately how I feel about Playa. If Playa had been the first place I visited,  I would have loved it. But after Tulum and Zipolite, I was spoiled. It was a typical touristy beach with tonnnnsss of American college kids. The hostel was a block from the beach which was nice but it was a party town going overboard trying to compete with Cancun. The hostel had a rooftop bar with a pool which I thought was pretty nice if you want a crazy night out.

Roof bar at the hostel

 Also, the hostel was surrounded by different bars all playing different music, so you really needed to be in the party spirit to enjoy this place. I started off my stint in Playa by just going to the beach and swimming around. After Zipolite's crazy waters, it was nice to be in the ocean without the very real fear of being swept off. Then Gary and I hit Walmart to see if they had backpacks. I would soon need to reclaim my luggage from the hostel in Cancun and I needed something to put it in. They didn't have backpacks but we did grab some sushi to eat on the hostel roof. The funniest thing happened at the hostel. I bumped into Ben and Marek from San Cristobal. Ben and Marek, early twenties, super chilled out, budding musicians and the coupliest straight guys you'll meet. People around them are always awww-ing at how they talk about each other and finish each other's sentences. I also met another Aussie called Clare when we were trying to figure where the hostel hides the stoves. I remember my first impression of Clare in her geeky glasses was of someone who was all intellectual and serious. (She's gonna be a doctor, so I bet she's still intellectual, but farrrr from serious). I also met Chris and Charlie in our dorm. They were really sweet English siblings. Something about Charlie was so serene and quiet. We all decided to chill together drinking for a "quiet" night out since it was our last night in Playa n all. I remember using all my  powers of persuasion to convince Ben and Marek for "just one drink". And then.. we found this club which had unlimited free alcohol for the girls and a foam party. Yep you can guess how the story goes. What's totally surprising to me is that Clare (who was still recovering from a foam party the last night) and Ben and Marek (who I had to totally coerce into coming out) were the ones who actually agreed to stay for the foam party!  It was such an awesome blast! The drinks were a joke but there was music and dance and tons of foam. Thankfully Clare was our resident foam party expert and she warned me, but who knew that one gets totaalllyy drenched with the foam. Like mouse in the rain drenched! I also lost my absolute favorite silver quicksilver flip flops in the foam :( After chilling there for a while, Clare had peaced out and Marek was busy flirting with this hot Russian chick, so Ben and I headed back to the hostel. I have absolutely no idea whose idea it was, but the next thing I remember, we were chilling on the beach. The beach was completely empty, conversation obviously seems interesting after alcohol and it was soooo perfect. I also somehow thought that it would be a great idea to swim with my dress on and everything. Actually, it was a great idea, no regrets.  This was finally Playa how I wanted it. Quiet still water on a deserted beach. And I'll add the next bit so that I'm not skipping the embarrassing parts. There was a boat in the water and I was all cocky, challenging Ben to race to it. I frantically swam and he casually waded to the boat and reached before me. Once at the boat, he easily got into the boat and it took me some 4 attempts before I gave up. It doesn't sound that bad, but imagine him waiting on the boat and me struggling to get on. Ugh I hate fit people! I don't think he cared but gosh I was soooo embarassed. I remember when I was hanging off the edge of a speed boat a few days later, the biggest reason I was afraid to fall off was that I was sure I wouldn't be able to get back in. Anyway, it was almost sunrise when we decided to head back. I remember thinking it must be some 3 am but it was almost freakin 6 am when we reached the hostel. It was one heck of a perfect night!

The beach was more crowded than this. 

The next day, I was up by 8 am like some crazy person and I was feeling awful that I had been lugging my sneakers all over Mexico without using them a single day. So, I apparently thought that going running hungover with 2 hours of sleep is a great idea. IT'S NOT! I felt like my whole body was stomped upon by elves in those two hours of sleeping. I just walked around the city trying to get in bits of running but it was the worst attempt to run in my whole life. I came back to a huge spread of breakfast at the hostel. They even had marble cake!! But I felt too sick and had to pass on the best breakfast that I had seen in Mexico. And I'm not sure if the stories so far conveyed this, but breakfast served at a hostel was a really big deal to me.  Anywhooo, Clare was supposed to start her Spanish classes that morning, and she managed to convince her instructor (while wearing her free drinks wristband) that she had a family problem and she'll start next week. And this is how, Clare, Ben, Marek and me decided to travel together as set off to my original destination, the gorgeous island of Isla Holbox!

P.S. I have no idea why I don't have a single pic of ANYTHING I did in Playa so I Googled some images that looks closest to Playa as I saw it. 

Month in Mexico: Part 5

Sorry about the delay in the next update.. assuming you cared :P It was pretty crazy for a couple of days when I spent a day in Chicago and then came to Ann Arbor to visit my sister. It's been awesome.

Back to Mexico, we had just set out for Zipolite. We took the scary 12 hour bus ride through the really windy roads and reached the town of Pochutla. Pochutla is the closest civilization to Zipolite. This is where you can find ATMs and where all the supplies in Zipolite are brought from. It's also where all the buses connect to the bigger cities. From here we needed to take a collectivo to Zipolite. The collectivo was one of the extra rattling, open air, wooden benches where I could feel every single one of the million speed breakers right down to my bones. We shared the collectivo with two gentlemen, one of whom spoke to us in perfect English and you could tell that he was so proud of it. And the other just spoke to us with smiles. As we crossed really rustic towns making our way towards Zipolite, I had no idea what to expect. But nothing I had imagined had me ready for how perfect Zipolite was.

Hostel folk enjoying the beach

My first hour in Zipolite kinda sucked cos everything is literally on the beach. So I needed to drag my huge ass suitcase through the sand. I finally gave up and dumped it in a corner, half hoping someone would steal that bag of lead. Jess and I then just walked around to the different hostels, checking out the rooms and trying to come up with the kind of room we agreed on. My main criteria was that either the room have A/C or that it was sea-facing so that it would be cool enough to sleep. This is where it really sucks. Jess said that she wanted to check out the nearby town of Mazunte before finalizing on a room, because she knew of a hostel where she could hang her hammock. I, on the other hand, wanted to stay back in empty Zipolite and enjoy the complete lack of civilization. We said a very shaky goodbye after some 4-5 days of traveling together. It wasn't even a goodbye. I just told her, "So I'll see you by the beach later". It was an empty stretch of some 2 kms of beach. I didn't think there was ANY chance that we wouldn't bump into each other again. Also, I remember us laughing about her last name, so I was sure that I had her on Facebook. Apparently not. So I waved to Jess, without as much a hug, and somehow never saw her again. She had a really complicated Dutch last name that I don't remember and somehow all our talks in the whole week focused on boys, travel, dreams and not ways to keep in touch :(

Anyway, I found a gorgeous hostel called "Nice place on the beach". I got a HUGE room with two huge beds which was right on the sand. And with some crazy stroke of luck, he gave it to me at half the usual price. It was the closest to the water of ANY hostel rooms in all of Zipolite which you'll see later wasn't necessarily the best thing. There were a few other people at the hostel, but the person I immediately clicked with was Dani (or Danielle). She's a German girl in her early twenties who was at the end of her study abroad semester in Cancun. She spoke both Spanish and English which was a HUGE advantage as always. The cool thing about the hostel in Zipolite was that it wasn't just a place to sleep. Zipolite is a place which has very little to offer in terms of touristy activities, so everyone just chills next to each other, the whole day! There is a bar and restaurant right on the beach and the wholllee day people just sit, read, talk, watch the waves or swim if the water allows it.

"A Nice Place on the Beach". You can see my room at the top left.

Dani :) (We forgot to take a pic together :( )

The first day I was there, there was this event where hundreds of baby crocodiles who was born in the breeding program were being released into the wild. So we took a cab and reached this other far off desolate beach. We then took a boat through the swamps to reach this tiny island. The "Crocodile Liberation" event was a big deal so they had free food, drinks, and tons of people. It was cool to see soooo many baby crocodiles at the same time with everyone around me holding one but other than that, I was sure I didn't wanna do this touristy stuff anymore. I was supposed to be in Zipolite for two days but the next 3 and a half days just flew by with me and Dani lying in hammocks, walking in the water, attempting to swim in the really crazy waters, and gorging on yummy food. Ohhh... and most importantly.. the 2 for 1 cocktails. They had these really really chocolately cocktails and Dani and I would share cocktails every night chatting with other people at the bar. One guy we (and with me I mostly mean Dani ;) ) frequently hung out with was David (pronounced as Da-veed) who was a local Mexican guy who was such a charmer. There was also another guy whose name I forgot but he had been a surfer for some 20 years in Zipolite and his surf videos completely blew my mind. He was supposed to give me free surf lessons the next day but the swell was too high and I was still scarred by my dick surf instructor in Santa Cruz (another story).

Boat ride through crocodile, turtles, and iguana infested swamp

Way back from the island

The insanest thing during my time in Zipolite was that the tide was higher than most people had ever remember seeing it. Remember how my room was the closest structure in all of Zipolite to the beach? This one night, I was completely freaking out because the water was like 2-3 feet from my window. Also, as more and more of the restaurant furniture kept getting splashed by the waves, people kept shouting and hooting which didn't help my peace of mind as I tried to sleep. I finally stormed out of the room and asked my English bar manager about the chances that I may get drenched by the ocean in my sleep. He assured me that while the water had never been this far before, he can guarantee that it would be nothing like the Indian Ocean Tsunami documentary I recently saw. Another inconvenience of sleeping right by the ocean that nobody bothers to mention is the fact the you hear water swishing violently all through the night. I had to keep getting up to pee all night.

Giant waves almost in the hostel

Oh yeah, I also forgot to mention that Zipolite was a nude beach. All my life the idea of a nude beach seemed like a big deal. But it was no big deal when I was actually at one. So there were a few girls walking around topless and a few guys walking around naked, but it didn't bother me a teeny bit which was surprising to me. Oh, now if the unbelievably crazy hot group of Israeli guys were walking around naked, I'm not sure how I'd feel about that :P Especially this one guy, he was model hot! He spoke to Daveed in crisp English with just the slightest tinge of a sexy accent. And I do believe that he was the only guy in the world who could pull off speedos. This group was at the hostel all day but it seemed like a big "guy" gang so I didn't wanna upset the dynamics by popping by to say hi. Speaking of guys, on the last day, Dani and I were just doing our usual thing, sitting by the beach, when this hot Mexican guy comes up and hands me a beer. So I smile and take the beer, and every time I look back at him, he smiles. I had no freaking clue what I was supposed to do at this point. You would think by age 27, I'd be able to be all nonchalant about this..nope! I frantically messaged Ciaran who gave me all stupid suggestions and then finally I just decide to go over and join the group. It was a mix of Mexicans and Aussies (big surprise). The guy owned a hostel in Puerto Escondido (which was a beach 2 hours away) and from the looks of it, spent most of his time working out. He was also a surfer and was pretty interesting to talk to. We hung out for a few hours and he kept trying to convince me that I was missing out by not going to Puerto Escondido. If I didn't have a flight from Oaxaca the next day, I may even have gone with the group. Anywwaayy, soon I had to leave and I think I kinda snubbed him in front of his buddies when I turned my cheek to him as he tried to kiss me goodbye :P

What totally sucked again is that I had to rush from Zipolite cos I wanted to make the last collectivo. Dani was out with Daveed grabbing some food and I had to just grab my luggage and make a run for it without saying goodbye :( What sucks even more is that I missed the last collectivo anyway and had to take a taxi.
The story gets worse. I reached Pochutla around 8 pm and I had to take a bus from Pochutla to Oaxaca at 9 pm. What I didn't know at the time was that the bigger buses took 9 hours but the minivans took 6 hours to reach Oaxaca. Also the minivans were super super terrible for motion sickness on the mountain roads so I spent every minute of those 6 hours feeling like I would hurl. What didn't help is that once I was on the minivan, I saw in Lonely Planet that the road from Zipolite to Oaxaca was considered one of the most dangerous for highway robbers. Especially for minivans and NOBODY should ever take the night bus. Thankfully, I was too sick to give a shit and I just focused  on getting through the damn journey. Obviously, the minute I fell alseep, we reached Oaxaca at 3 freaking am. I have always wondered what I would do if I was ever stranded in a city in the middle of the night and here I was finding out. My first step was to take a taxi to the hostel. After ringing on the hostel's bell thrice, I realized that there was gonna be no way for me to get in without waking the whole damn place. By this time I was kinda getting panicky. However, all the stop signs in Mexico said "Alto" so I kept pulling on my cab driver's sleeve and kept chanting "Alto" which thankfully he managed to understand that I didn't want him to leave. I then whipped out my Kindle and painfully typed in Google Translate as he watched me. We finally managed to communicate enough that I told him to take me to the ADO  bus station.  The night at the ADO was uneventful enough, almost comfortable.

Th next morning, I head to the hostel which was so warm, so inviting that it totally made up for the shitty night. The hostel caretakers were two youngsters who were just extra extra nice and friendly. I tucked into the best breakfast I had in Mexico. Cereal, eggs, tortilla, fruit and coffee. I took a long luxurious nap and then headed out to explore Oaxaca (pronounced Wa-ha-ka). I thought Oaxaca was a lot like San Cristobal but more real. The "zocalo" or city center here was HUGE. I decided to stick to the 20 peso subway sandwich for lunch. What was kinda cool about the Oaxacan downtown is that you have all these guys just standing by the different stores and handing you shots of different kinds of mezcal, the local alcohol. It was some 1 pm and I was totally into tasting all the different kinds. I thought the flavored creamy ones were great (think Baileys) but the normal spirit tasted like death. Also, I guess doing shots of pure spirit at 1 pm in the day was probably ruining the flavor more. I tasted strawberry, vanilla, chocolate, coffee, pineapple, soooo yum. And I think I may have been tipsy for the rest of the day. I'm not sure. I had been spending my time conveniently ignoring all the churches in Mexico but I finally decided to enter a few churches and check out the architecture. They reminded me a lot of churches that I've seen in India. I didn't like that there were tour groups inside the church, but other than that, it was nice as always to just sit and enjoy the energy that the place has collected over hundreds of years.

City center

Inside one of the churches

Hostel Courtyard

Hostel Dining Table

Living Area

The rest of the day was one of my main highlights of my trip. The hostel had free salsa classes (see video below). The instructor was one of the winners of the "So you think you can dance?" type of Mexican shows and he was really good. The video I have posted doesn't really capture his charm but I danced with him for a bit and I have never felt such perfection in movement. There were two American women in the hostel, mother and daughter, who I think, couldn't have been more unsuited for Mexico. To give them credit, the daughter was an angsty teenager but they wouldn't stop complaining about stuff. The mom however, was super excited about the Salsa lessons. It was 10 mins of pure cringe as she threatened her teenage daughter to join the lessons or else. When the daughter finally quit after a while, she kept making snide remarks about, "what's Spanish for quitter"... UGH!! I hate parents like that. Anyway, the lesson was brilliant and the teacher was amazing. We just did a few basic moves. Unfortunately, the hostel caretaker insisted that he wanted to be my partner so the teacher and I didn't dance much, but it was totally dreamy when we did. The best thing about it is that the guy controls and guides you with the slightest touch, the most subtle of movements and suddenly your dancing. On the other hand, it probably totally sucks for the guy because you pretty much need to know what you're doing. This guy in particular, would hold your hand in such a way that he was barely touching a few fingers and yet you knew what he wanted you to do.

The guy told me about a salsa club in Oaxaca and I still can't believe I did this but I decided to go check out the club alone that night. "Candela", the most popular salsa club in Oaxaca, pretty much dispels all the myths that movies give you about salsa clubs. It was formal seating around a dance floor with romantic candle lights. It was a well organized square which makes it super obvious each time someone walks in. Also, it was super coupley. The first 30 minutes in the club were completely mortifying. I didn't wanna be that person on my smart phone all the time so I just kept staring intently at all the couples killing it on the dance floor. What didn't help my raging sense of doom was the fact that the table I picked was supposedly reserved so the waiter made me move to a dark table in the corner whether the romantic candle wasn't even lit. Ahhhh, I wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. I tried my best to just keep my game face on, enjoy my pina colada and focus on the fact that I was in a freaking salsa club in Mexico. The atmosphere was completely electric. The people on the dance floor seemed to be mad professionals who seemed to have practiced their choreography a million times. I kept thinking about how I was so foolish to imagine that one lesson made me qualified to show up at such a place. I decided to make the best of it by trying to follow their moves and learn something. And then.. out of the blue, it's a new song, the dance floor is empty, and this one guy notices me sitting alone and asks me to dance. When I say asks me to dance, I mean pretty much tells me to come dance with him. I had seen him dance a few songs before and I knew that he was pretty much an expert, so I was completely nervous to walk to the empty dance floor with him. But I wasn't gonna waste my 50 peso cover charge so I just followed him to see how it unfolds. The song started and the guy just moves and twirls and spins. I have absolutely no idea how we looked but it felt amazing. We both were the only one on the dance floor in a packed club and I didn't care. All Mexican guys dance reallllyyyy close when it comes to salsa. But somehow the closeness is not creepy because you can tell that all they care about is the dance and not feeling up the girl. The closeness is part of the music, the sensuality that comes with the dance, and part of the dance. Thankfully, dancing with this guy somehow sent the message that I was willing to dance and I danced with soooo many different guys that night. Mexican guys of all ages, shapes and sizes, and all salsa experts. And I think that even though I sucked at it, they respected that I was willing to follow their lead and make an effort. It wasn't all sparkles and unicorns though. I was dancing with this pretty big guy who was pretty great at dancing but thanks to my fumbling often stepped on my toes. I would pretty much tear up with pain every time that happened. And then was the fact that each of these guys were dripping with sweat thanks to the vigorous dancing through the night. So you pretty much have to let go of any hangups you have about someone else's sweaty body touching every part of yours. I know I'm making it sound really graphic but that's pretty much how it was. And I checked to make sure that it wasn't just me who was being dirty danced the heck out of.


Anyway, I sprint back to the hostel around midnight and took the flight early next morning out of Oaxaca to Cancun. I got super lucky because this gay couple from the hostel was looking for a taxi at the same time and we could share the taxi. They both were sooooo nice and totally fussed over me helping me with my luggage. They manage properties in Cancun and have apartments for short-term rent in Cancun so I can totally hook you guys up if you guys ever need a place there :)

Month in Mexico: Part 4

Writing about San Cristobal has already been so hard. With all the other days, the words were just flowing as I was dying to tell you about each tiny incident when I wished you were there. But with San Cristobal, my mind keeps going in circles with the many many memories and it's been so hard for me to know where to start.

Gorgeous highland views from bus

Jess leading the way

I remember the minute I got off the bus at San Cristobal, I got this strong rush that felt like I've finally found what I came to find in Mexico. I didn't want the dusty roads of Cancun but I wanted this adorable little city with rows of colorful houses, cobblestone streets and Volkswagon bugs everywhere. Jess looked up some hostel and we headed there through a lonnggg, rainy, cold and slippery walk through the city. I almost fell so many times on the slick stones that I finally took my flip-flops off and dragged my luggage barefoot. We reached the hostel and like all other places in the city, it was a giant wooden door which opened into an indoor courtyard. Everything was super colorful and Jess and I snagged a colorful private room because they were out of dorms.

Cozy private room

Inner courtyard of the first hostel

Unlike all the other places in Mexico so far, San Cristobal is on a high altitude so it was freezing cold through the night. I was kinda grateful that Jess was constantly complaining about the cold because usually everyone looks warm and comfortable and my teeth are constantly chattering away. I personally loved the hostel. I met this 40 something year old German gentleman, Siggi, who was a silver craftsman. He was such a great conversationalist. We talked for a long time and he invited me to join his big gang of friends who were celebrating a birthday. However, they all spoke Spanish and I have only too often been in this situation where I am the only one who doesn't know a language. One of two things happen, either people keep chattering in Spanish and I am completely lost or people are nice enough to include me but have to go out of their way to speak a language they aren't comfortable with. I wanted to avoid both situations so I just snuggled in bed reading Harry Potter.

We decided to switch hostels the next morning because Jess was traumatized by the bathroom. The fact that I wasn't, showed how much I had already changed on this trip. I looked up this sick deal in another hostel and we trudged there. Rossco Backpackers Hostel was everything I ever wanted in hostel. We got a 4 bed dorm that we shared with an older gentleman Al.The bathrooms were perfectly clean and there was actually liquid hand soap on the sink.  I have so much to say about our roommate Al. He's a 60 something year old Canadian guy who has lived the craziest life. He's driven a motorcycle in so many different parts of the world and on this trip, he actually sold all his possessions, apparently burned all his pictures and just took off to spend the rest of his life exploring the world. He had given himself 10-12 years to cover as much of the world he could on his motorcycle. His story was mad inspiring and very sad at the same time. Jess and I always looked at the people at the hostels and evaluated which kind of person we wanted to be. We both admitted being terrified when we saw a 40 year old lady traveling alone at the hostel in Tulum. For the first time it seemed like the price for loving the adventure and instability might be ending up alone. Seeing Al, I was reminded of the same thing. And I honestly don't know which part is worth it. Ideally it would be great to find someone who can remain as adventurous as you and agree to trade the nicer house for an adventure in South America. I feel like many people I know, think they are like this. But when it comes down to doing it, life always gets in the way. And that would be scarier than not wanting it at all. Wanting it and living in regret. But then I also don't know if I'll change when I'm older and would prefer to live a quiet and comfortable life without stressing about money all the time. Ah this is getting too depressing for a beautiful place like San Cristobal. Moving on.

Rossco - my favorite and cheapest hostel on the trip

kickass movie room

My bed for 3 nights

San Cristobal is like this tiny European town bang in the middle of Mexico. The town center, called a "Zocalo", was a gazebo in the town square where musicians actually play every evening. People just sit around and watch and sip coffee. Right next to the Zocalo was this market that seemed to be selling Mexican desserts. A lot of these desserts seemed close to Indian sweets that I am used to. I didn't try any however because there were a whole bunch of bees swarming around the sweets and I was also scared about the fact that the sweets were kept in the open all day.  One of my favorite memories in San Cristobal was to just be sitting in the Zocalo and watching this little Mexican boy pretending to talk on the public phone. It was so adorable. He was barely 3 years old and hardly managed to reach the handset. He kept pressing buttons and acting like he was having a serious conversation. Unfortunately I scared him off when he saw me trying to take a video :( Damn tourists.

Zocalo

Another really nice part of San Cristobal was the huggee handicraft market which sold clothes, trinkets, all sorts of cool stuff. I went to town on the woolen clothes here because they use a completely different kind of wool which is much warmer than the wool in the US. I bought a hat.. booties.. long socks.. a shawl. This was pretty much where the luggage increased considerably. I had initially left half my luggage at the hostel in Cancun (mostly textbooks). Two weeks in California before Mexico had given me a pretty clear picture that I wasn't gonna get any work done. Also I have no idea why I thought heels and a hair dryer were essentials :P So now with the new shopping, I was again back to barely managed heavy luggage.

Most of the 4 days in San Cristobal were just spent being so lazy and unfortunately the weather had made me kinda sick. I spent most mornings in bed and then left in the afternoon to try to find some food. Thankfully the hostel had a decent breakfast of fruit and toast so this pretty much required just one more meal each day. One of the interesting foods I tried here was Pozole. It has corn puffs in soup with a lot of ingredients that you can add according to your preference. Mainly stuff like onions, jalapenos, cheese, cilantro. All the good stuff. I didn't fall madly in love with Pozole but I didn't hate it either.

Pozole with all the trimmings

One thing I did fall madly in love with was the boiled corn they give you on the carts. I saw this cart on the way from the bus when I first arrived and then I spent the next 3 days looking for it. Thankfully I found it on the last day. It's boiled corn with mayonnaise, salsa, and lemon. Yummmmm. The salsa on the corn was so perfect. I kept telling him not to put any since it's always too hot for me, but the guy pretty much overruled my preference giving me looks to butt out. I am so glad he did cos I fell in love with the sauce. I then checked the sauce that he used and spent the rest of the day looking for the sauce. What's crazy is that after checking out all the big places in the city (including where the guy told me HE bought the sauce), I finally saw this little boy sitting in the corner of the market with 4 bottles at that sauce. That was absolutely insane. I bought two bottles with each big bottle being 8 pesos. That's right.. close to 50 cents! Another yummy food adventure I had in SC, was the local hamburger. I am getting so hungry as I type this. There were these hamburger stalls in the market and I just sat down not knowing what to expect. This lady takes a fat chunk of butter on the skillet and deep fries a thin patty and strips of ham. I can't emphasize what a beef patty cooked in butter tastes like but hopefully you can imagine it. She also cooks the giant bun on the skillet. She then adds the patty.. strips of buttery dripping ham.. slice of cheese.. lots of salad.. pieces of quac...and some sauce.. oooohh. It was so giant that I asked her to cut it in half and save the rest in foil. I then sat and ate both halves with her laughing at my gluttony. Another nice enough and very cheap meal was this stall that sold taquitos. So I could buy 4 different types with 20 pesos or something. It wasn't amazing but decent.

"Hamburger" from heaven 

Deep fried average goodness

 One not so amazing meal I had, was at this pizza place. I decided that I needed a break from Mexican and I really wanted to treat myself. So I went to one of the fancy Italian places where you can sit on the sidewalk, eat expensive food and just feel super great about being in such a cool place. I ordered a pizza with tomatoes, mushrooms and olives. The pizza tasted great enough. It came with this pesto dipping sauce and anyone pretty much has me at pesto. The pizza was HUGE and every now and then street kids would stop by and ask for a slice. This is the heartbreaking part of Mexico. There are so many street kids everywhere who are always trying to get money or sell you stuff and it really makes you feel so guilty to be basking in luxury and luck when they have nothing. However, past 2-3 times, I gave up on whatever food I was eating at the time, or gave the kid some coins, only to realize that he cheerfully ran to his friends to tell them of the sucker he found. So in spite of the constant bees and constant kids, I trudged through this meal determined to enjoy it cos I paid a shit ton for it. The pizza had 8 slices and I ate the smallest 4, pretty sure I could make 2 more meals out of the rest. He offered to pack it for me which basically included throwing them together in foil. When he brings it back, I am sure it's lighter than it should be and I open it and count it. Sure enough.. 3 slices! I walk back into the restaurant only to see the cheeky waiter feasting on my slice. I think I was kinda bugged cos my perfect meal was already troubled by the bees, so I insisted he make me another slice. The guy actually tried to give me the slice from his plate! I gave him the most scathing look I could muster and they threw together another shitty piece of pizza really quick to make me disappear. So yeah.. that wasn't a great meal. Another let-down food wise was this unbelievable candy cart I saw on the street. It looked like every kids dream come true. But when I bought some candy, it all tasted weird, like oil or something. I think I may have been scarred off fake Gummy Bears for life.

Very misleading candy cart

City center

As you can probably tell... time in San Cristobal was simply eating.. chilling and walking around the city. I spend one whole day at a somewhat-spa going all out on getting everything possible done. That was freaking awesome. I met this lady there and we chatted over pedicures about how she moved to Oaxaca from Michigan some 30 years ago and hasn't regretted it since. Thanks to her I was able to communicate with the hair dresser about what I wanted. Googling "Spanish facial" was absolutely no help. In fact, I recommend you never try to Google that. The hostel at San Cristobal was super great to meet people. They had this unbelievably cool movie room which I discovered a few hours before I had to leave :( They also had bonfires every night. The first night I pretty much was the only one really interested in sitting by it.. but the next day a bunch of us were chilling by the fire and talking about what each of us were up to. Among the people I met at the hostel was this really sweet German girl, this nice Aussie girl Jess, German Chris, Aussies Ben & Marek and English Gary. I talked to Gary mostly cos I happened to be sitting next to him and that guy has the memory of an elephant. I'll explain later. Anyway, leaving Rossco was super difficult. I remember slowly inching towards the door with all my luggage in tow and this really seemingly cool English group just kept talking to me about cricket! I loved it.. they remembered all the milestones for the different cricketers and even names of Indian cricketers. It was great to see Sachin's name getting the reverence it deserves. Anyway, I finally dragged all my luggage to a huge rickety collectivo and headed out to our next destination, Zipolite. It's really funny how through out the trip, the next destination was decided by a conversation at the current destination. I decided on Zipolite just because Siggi kept talking about it and the tickets were cheap enough to take the risk. I came to Palenque just because someone at Tulum mentioned that the ruins at Palenque were much nicer. And I came to San Cristobal only because the tickets directly to Oaxaca were way too expensive. Funny how things work out.

The scariest thing happened to me on the night bus ride to Zipolite. Now, on many online forums, I had read about  these "check-points" where either the cops or highway robbers stop the bus. The forums made it sound like both were equally dangerous. In fact, many people mentioned people who got off the bus with the cops and didn't come back on. So it was 2 am and the bus was stopped by the cops. They come inside the bus with all this assault gear and are looking at everyone. Out of the whole giant bus, they just zero in on me and ask for my passport. I give it to them and they all get off the bus with my passport and go into this small police checkpoint building. They didn't come back for the next 15 mins and I was getting super concerned. It also didn't help that the whole bus was pretty much waiting on me. Then two cops come back with my passport and I am relieved to see it safe but then they ask me to get off the bus. For all the people who keep telling me I am brave, I can tell you that I didn't feel too brave at this point. I was the only one being led off the bus and I was scared as hell. However, I think it's kinda disturbing that I was most scared about the fact that the bus might leave with my luggage and not that I might spend time in Mexican prison. They led me into this room, while still holding my passport and started questioning me about everything. They were very polite but having a whole room of guys staring at me was kinda unnerving. They mostly were fixated on the fact that it was totally abnormal for an Indian girl to be traveling alone and they pretty much wanted me to bust that myth. I was completely torn between mentioning Jess who was with me on the bus or not getting her involved. After they wouldn't back down, I kinda took a middle ground and told them that I know a girl whom I just met on the bus and that I had left my other friends back in San Cristobal. This way I haven't technically being traveling alone while Jess still wasn't associated with me. Thankfully this seemed to work and after 15-20 mins of questioning and making copies of my passport, I was allowed to get back on the bus. I still hated how it felt to board the bus after a long delay and I dunno if I imagined it but everyone seemed to be staring at me cos I was the cause of all this mayhem.

 I know some people will heartily disagree with all this praise about San Cristobal. San Cristobal is super touristy in the sense that you have expensive restaurants dotting every street. It also has a touristy vibe in general. The bars are so expensive and you'd rarely find interaction with locals if you just saunter into the bar.  But it depends on where you look. I went into this Mexican food place which didn't look pretty at all but I had the cheapest and awesome meal ever. I had Horchata which is a sweet drink made of rice and I ordered beef that was cooked on skewers shawarma style.

Beefy cheesy tortilla goodness

The spices were perfect and there was tons of cilantro with it. They also give you 3-4 types of sauces and tortillas to go with the meat. So unless I purposely wanted to eat in the touristy places, I still had other options. So in my opinion, San Cristobal was still pretty. Kinda like Singapore. You know it's fake, it's catered to what you want, but then it's still quaintly amazing in it's own way. So anyways, I left San Cristobal absolutely sure that the trip cannot get any better than this, and then I reached Zipolite.

Month in Mexico: Part 3

I wasn't gonna write ahead today but I can't sleep. So here goes.

I took the bus to Palenque and reached there early in the morning. I was just getting into a taxi to get to my hostel when this collectivo guy comes up and offers a marginally cheaper ride. What I didn't know at the time is that I would spend the next 2 hours stuck in the collectivo while he waits for other passengers. Also, I was stuck between paying the full price and leaving or trying to communicate with him that I wasn't paying and then leave. Both sounded unfeasible so I just chilled in the van outside hotels in Palenque. After I finally made it to my hostel which was 20 mins away, in about 2 hours, it was well worth it. So it's really hard to describe but there is a small group of hostels and restaurants inside the forest which lie right outside the ruins in Palenque. The cool thing about the Palenque ruins is that it's set right against the lush emerald forest with only 5% of it being properly excavated. Infact, many parts of the ruins didn't have ANYONE around so I really felt like I was living some Hollywood fantasy and exploring the dense jungles by myself.

The hostel area within the jungle is called El Panchan (locals laughed at me when I said "El Panchan" instead of  simply Panchan). I was super skeptical cos the rooms in Panchan didn't have A/Cs but the cabanas were totally adorable. Cabanas (the n has an accent in many such words. I can't be bothered to add it) are small cottages basically and the word is used very flexibly so I've realized that it could be something luxurious or totally crappy. This was luxurious enough by backpacker standards. The common bathrooms were not that luxurious. So the bathroom had no light. At all. So the first shower seemed pleasant enough at night. However, the next morning, I had the biggest shocker when I saw the state of the bathrooms. The problem was however quickly solved by just postponing the shower to the night. It also solved the problem that the shower curtains wouldn't really close. So it was definitely more modest to shower in the dark at night. My cabana was right on the edge of a stream so it was really nice to just step out on the porch and have a tiny bit of water trickling down. The second cool thing that happened to me in Palenque was that I met Jess. Sometimes it happens that you meet someone and just click. I really felt that with Jess. We started talking on a bus ride from the ruins and didn't stop talking until days later. We weren't actually that similar as people. But we loved to travel the same way. Also, she was way more disciplined than me so my budget owed a lot to Jess.

Porch outside my cabana

Cabana side view

Just walkway leading to the cottage

Jess posing in the cabana

Right in the heart of nature baby

Hitching a ride in an open air collectivo

I met Jess on the way back to the ruins. Another co-incidence (which apparently is not that rare in Mexico), I met these two English guys who were with me in the shitty hostel in Tulum, then were around with my bus meltdown to Palenque and then I again bumped into them at the ruins. I finally went and talked to them and they were pretty nice. From the ruins we went to these waterfalls, Azul Agua (I think) they were called. No wait, I don't remember the names. Let's call them Fall1 and Fall2. Fall1 was pretty standard waterfall. And to be honest, I am not a big fan of waterfalls where you can't get into the water. Sometimes, I might choose not to get into the water but I always want that option. Fall2 was pretty neat. It was a waterfall with many many layers and you could keep hiking up and checking out more layers. It was a very pretty bright turquoise color. (Note: I hate that all the water so far has been turquoise. That word is a bitch to spell). Along the waterfall was all markets and food places. Most of the food was pretty expensive so Jess ate healthy bananas and I ate empanadas. What was cool about this place is that it had more locals than foreigners. After a longgg day at the waterfalls, Jess and I headed back to Panchan. She was gonna be sleeping in a hammock at a nearby hostel. We just walked around the forest and it was really magical. We were the only people there, the golden sun was hitting the trees at the perfect angle and if the moment couldn't have been any better, we saw a rainbow. It was one of those very very frequent moments in the trip where I just sat back and sighed at how lucky I was to be there.  We decided to have a nice dinner and ordered giant ass burritos and she treated me to a beer.  We talked for a long time about boys and relationships, in the middle of the forest. It was pretty great.

The next day we walked all over the town, mostly to find me an ATM and I think it was a pretty cute little town. Not too bad at all. However, lunch kinda sucked. I got this chicken torta (torta = sandwich) and there was a bottle of ranch on the table. I assumed that the ranch would have the inside lid as it ALWAYS has been for the past 5 years. Nope. I turned the bottle and squeezed hard and the whole bottle's ranch fell into my plate. I didn't know what to do, so I just kept trying to put it back in the bottle. Oh and the ranch was kept out in the sun so it was rancid : / . Thankfully they kinda had an open sandwich toppings bar so I just ate a whole bunch of sandwich toppings for lunch. I just remembered another funny food related mishap. Until I met Jess, who rescued me with her Spanish, I didn't know what Asada means. I knew that Pollo means chicken so I thought that all the signs that say "Pollo Asada" was probably chicken with something. But it wasn't so. Asada means beef. And Pollo and Asada were the two options. So I completely understand why every single Mexican gave me dirty looks when I walked up and asked for "chicken beef" god knows how many times.

Fall2 in all it's splendour

Walking under Fall1

Forests of Gold

With a little color added

From Palenque we decided to head to San Cristobal de la casas. This place has my heart. This was the place where I truly fell in love. The place was my favorite. The hostel was my favorite. And even though I didn't know it at the time, some of the people that I met there would later become my favorite :)