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.
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| 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.
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| "A Nice Place on the Beach". You can see my room at the top left. |
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| 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).
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| Boat ride through crocodile, turtles, and iguana infested swamp |
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| City center |
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| Inside one of the churches |
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| Hostel Courtyard |
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| Hostel Dining Table |
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| 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 :)
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