Friday, December 28, 2007
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
The Distant View (Farewell Wah-ha-Kah)
The sobered, distant view, while not always the prettiest picture, usually paints a more realistic scene than the one writ while submerged in the thick of travel. Especially, for example, if I'm writing about Oaxaca as a destination that you may one day want to visit. I realize it may seem like my visit was fraught with difficulty and hostility. That simply wasn't the case. Well ... mostly not the case. There was the freakish rooftop encounter in Oaxaca city last Saturday night, but even that will get blown out of proportion if I recall it here, so I will leave it for a later, further sobered, perspective.
So the story picks up in Zipolite. Adan & I stashed our freshly laundered clothes in our room & enjoyed one last beachside meal at Lola's. The food good and cheap. As the sun fell toward the horizon, the family from St. Louis pulled into the hotel in their Land Cruisers for their nightly ritual of daiquiris and the sunset view from Lola's. They were staying at a resort in neighboring San Agustinillo but apparently the sunsets were better at Lola's, so that's where they ended each of their evenings. Unfortunately on this day Lola's did not soundtrack the sunset with any music. I'm going to miss their schizophrenic music selection. One moment they're blasting hip hop, the next it's bad '70s funk, the next it's soft piano ballads, the next it's laser beam disco beats...etc. They have their name done up in big lettering (like the HOLLYWOOD sign) and it's lit up at night. A lovely beacon for bleary-eyed hotel guests making their way back from the main village on the beach on a moonless, misty night. When the sign is turned off at 8pm, a pair of christmas lights blink on and off, a good enough beacon.
Just before the sun set, we strapped our bags, walked to the road and caught a taxi in about 4 minutes. We were headed back to Pochutla for the overnight bus connection back to Oaxaca. Dropped off at the dusty bus station in this featureless transit town, we learned the bus was sold out. We pondered the dread of a night in Pochutla for a moment before the bus agent told us to take a bus an hour south to Huatulco and catch the overnight bus there, and "executive class" bus that cost a few bucks more than First Class. So all was well. In Huatulco we dined on tacos with "cabeza" and "al pastor" (pig's brains and pork), popped a Pepto-Bismol, drank Coca-Cola, and prepared for another night of shifty, sleepless rest.
The bus system in Mexico is superior to anything I've found in other countries. Canada's and the U.S.'s disgrace of a bus system, Greyhound, pales in comparison. It's cheap, the seats recline, the buses are all new and clean. But even the best buses are a bitch to sleep on, esp. while navigating Mexico's highways, with their speed bumps every 5 miles interrupting the "magical position" you finally found against the window.
We wandered downtown Oaxaca city in the early dawn hours searching for a hotel room to crash. The hotels were either closed or too expensive or too clinical (the HI hostels) or told us to return later. We eventually settled in one of the nicest hotels of our trip, the Hotel des Cues, just 2 blocks south of the zocalo. We got a king size and a queen in a spacious room for $60. Then we crashed until 2 pm. Andrew and Adan watched the end of "The Birdcage" on TV before we set out for the open-air market. Really the entire city is a big market. All the sidewalks are crammed with booths hawking their wares (usually nail clippers, remote controls, burned copies of CDs & DVDs, cheaply made fashions, and, odd in such summery weather, Christmas decor & ornaments). We wandered the labyrinthe of the market for a couple hours. Andrew bought underwear and socks (he preferred to wash his clothes in the shower and was suffering the consequences with increasingly soiled underpants...ha! He's probably going to flip when he reads this, but dude, you really shouldn't wash your clothes while you take a shower). We bought a mid-sized duffel that was falling aparts at the seams for $8 ... a rip, but we needed it for our hammocks, bottles of mezcal, hot chocolate, rubber chickens, wooden combs, lobster magnets, candles, posters of elk scenes, and miscellaneous plants, herbs, soil samples and other highly suspect items that would easily pass through U.S. Customs due to our rosy cheeks and sleep-deprived, bloodshot eyes.
Mexico is an enigma wrapped in a corporate bubblegum wrapper.
So the story picks up in Zipolite. Adan & I stashed our freshly laundered clothes in our room & enjoyed one last beachside meal at Lola's. The food good and cheap. As the sun fell toward the horizon, the family from St. Louis pulled into the hotel in their Land Cruisers for their nightly ritual of daiquiris and the sunset view from Lola's. They were staying at a resort in neighboring San Agustinillo but apparently the sunsets were better at Lola's, so that's where they ended each of their evenings. Unfortunately on this day Lola's did not soundtrack the sunset with any music. I'm going to miss their schizophrenic music selection. One moment they're blasting hip hop, the next it's bad '70s funk, the next it's soft piano ballads, the next it's laser beam disco beats...etc. They have their name done up in big lettering (like the HOLLYWOOD sign) and it's lit up at night. A lovely beacon for bleary-eyed hotel guests making their way back from the main village on the beach on a moonless, misty night. When the sign is turned off at 8pm, a pair of christmas lights blink on and off, a good enough beacon.
Just before the sun set, we strapped our bags, walked to the road and caught a taxi in about 4 minutes. We were headed back to Pochutla for the overnight bus connection back to Oaxaca. Dropped off at the dusty bus station in this featureless transit town, we learned the bus was sold out. We pondered the dread of a night in Pochutla for a moment before the bus agent told us to take a bus an hour south to Huatulco and catch the overnight bus there, and "executive class" bus that cost a few bucks more than First Class. So all was well. In Huatulco we dined on tacos with "cabeza" and "al pastor" (pig's brains and pork), popped a Pepto-Bismol, drank Coca-Cola, and prepared for another night of shifty, sleepless rest.
The bus system in Mexico is superior to anything I've found in other countries. Canada's and the U.S.'s disgrace of a bus system, Greyhound, pales in comparison. It's cheap, the seats recline, the buses are all new and clean. But even the best buses are a bitch to sleep on, esp. while navigating Mexico's highways, with their speed bumps every 5 miles interrupting the "magical position" you finally found against the window.
We wandered downtown Oaxaca city in the early dawn hours searching for a hotel room to crash. The hotels were either closed or too expensive or too clinical (the HI hostels) or told us to return later. We eventually settled in one of the nicest hotels of our trip, the Hotel des Cues, just 2 blocks south of the zocalo. We got a king size and a queen in a spacious room for $60. Then we crashed until 2 pm. Andrew and Adan watched the end of "The Birdcage" on TV before we set out for the open-air market. Really the entire city is a big market. All the sidewalks are crammed with booths hawking their wares (usually nail clippers, remote controls, burned copies of CDs & DVDs, cheaply made fashions, and, odd in such summery weather, Christmas decor & ornaments). We wandered the labyrinthe of the market for a couple hours. Andrew bought underwear and socks (he preferred to wash his clothes in the shower and was suffering the consequences with increasingly soiled underpants...ha! He's probably going to flip when he reads this, but dude, you really shouldn't wash your clothes while you take a shower). We bought a mid-sized duffel that was falling aparts at the seams for $8 ... a rip, but we needed it for our hammocks, bottles of mezcal, hot chocolate, rubber chickens, wooden combs, lobster magnets, candles, posters of elk scenes, and miscellaneous plants, herbs, soil samples and other highly suspect items that would easily pass through U.S. Customs due to our rosy cheeks and sleep-deprived, bloodshot eyes.
Mexico is an enigma wrapped in a corporate bubblegum wrapper.
Monday, December 03, 2007
home
If you are receiving this email it is because you are on a group list that I have titled "home". All I do is type in "home" and this message comes to your inbox. You are my home now. I am home, now. Further details about the final chapter in my Mexican foray will be forthcoming as soon as I find a drop of time to write it. I'm swamped in work right now. Oregon is a mess of wind and rain. Arcade Fire is blasting in my earphones. I am home.
Chuck
Chuck
Friday, November 30, 2007
zipolite update
its been brought to my attention that a few of my remarks have been portrayed in a light of slight inaccuracy. such as, Andrew didn't say ´greencardbait,´ he claims he said simply ´greencard.´ and a host of other slight impromptu flights of fancy, im sure.
debbie, the police in puerto escondido have uniforms that say {policia turistica} and they carry big guns and make sure there´s no funny business going on in a very funny environment. we keep imagining them as meaner than they are, but they really dont have manners and will aim their rifles at your foot while talking to you.
the fear and terror and paranoia in a foreign land may have lead {or might lead} me to overinflate, like all the best fiction writers {and all the worst}.
corrections-clarifications will eventually follow.
for now, it is my birthday today and i will spend it dillydallying in a hammock and then catching an overnight bus back to Oaxaca. the details of last night are writ out as drawings in my sketchbook. i will have to get to a scanner to correctly transcribe.
The light is bright; the sun hot.
Peace,
Chuck
debbie, the police in puerto escondido have uniforms that say {policia turistica} and they carry big guns and make sure there´s no funny business going on in a very funny environment. we keep imagining them as meaner than they are, but they really dont have manners and will aim their rifles at your foot while talking to you.
the fear and terror and paranoia in a foreign land may have lead {or might lead} me to overinflate, like all the best fiction writers {and all the worst}.
corrections-clarifications will eventually follow.
for now, it is my birthday today and i will spend it dillydallying in a hammock and then catching an overnight bus back to Oaxaca. the details of last night are writ out as drawings in my sketchbook. i will have to get to a scanner to correctly transcribe.
The light is bright; the sun hot.
Peace,
Chuck
Thursday, November 29, 2007
success on the beach, part 2 (for real this time)
got the heck out of puerto escondido. with guns popping at our back, we took cashmoney from the bank machine and hitched aboard the 2nd class bus to Pochutla, the not very exciting but quite necessary layover point for all destinations along the coast. We found a camionetta to take us to Zipolite. No, a camionetta is not a horse drawn carriage, though that would be radiculous, but is a light truck with a canvas canopy. We rode pretty much exclusively, stopping here and there to pick up old ladies and bundles of fire wood. All for a buck.
We disembarked at Zipolite and walked the 1.5 km stretch of sand to the pink flamingo of a hotel, Lola's, at the eastern end of the beach. We scored a 3 bed room for $30-night and take two steps to the surf whenever we want. Apparently we were spotted and identified by a Quebeckian named David as potential dudes looking for hedonistic pursuits. He would not be far off the mark, but that is a later story I will tell when I'm grayhaired and tunneling my way to the tundra water source.
meanwhile, back at lola's, had us some soup and then Adan & I took a sunsetted dip in the ocean, bodysurfing beneath the boogeyboarding kids. those bastards! then, dripping water and reclining on the wooden slatted chairs, Lola's played ending credits music from some 1980s dirty cop meets his big surprise style flick. Think Rocky meets Shaft meets Queen. And this played with gusto as the sun set and the spare clouds in the sky turned fire crisp.
We've been eating dinners at a pizzeria\taqueria. we eat 50 cent tacos while we wait for our wood oven baked pizza. Cant seem to escape the Italian influences on this coast, at any cost. El Delfin is the name of the place, and their open air tables are set up in the street. I just love a place that doesn't seem to follow any rules or laws. The gun=toting tourist police are nonexistent, and dear lord i can just imagine the economic costs that would impact Zipolite, with its nudists doing the grapevine down the beach at 10pm, with its drug addled populace, with its inviting strip of beach, with its shambhala eco freaks performing rituals of nightly terror & horror. this is not disneyland, after all.
but mostly the air here is chill. this place is hella CHILL. and we're in a semi coma state of pure relaxation most of the time. this morning i got out of bed at the ungodly hour of 8 am and took a walk into town to use the internet cafe. (i had to wait 10 minute for it to open). andrew and adan are still sleeping, or maybe they've awoken and are wondering where the heck i've gone. either way, i should probably sign off here. there's more havoc to wreak and more 2 for 1 pina coladas to consume beachside. i turn a very hefty 25 tonight at midnight...who knows what fear and salty tastes will be in my mouth tomorrow, as a newly minted Quarter Century Boy.
We disembarked at Zipolite and walked the 1.5 km stretch of sand to the pink flamingo of a hotel, Lola's, at the eastern end of the beach. We scored a 3 bed room for $30-night and take two steps to the surf whenever we want. Apparently we were spotted and identified by a Quebeckian named David as potential dudes looking for hedonistic pursuits. He would not be far off the mark, but that is a later story I will tell when I'm grayhaired and tunneling my way to the tundra water source.
meanwhile, back at lola's, had us some soup and then Adan & I took a sunsetted dip in the ocean, bodysurfing beneath the boogeyboarding kids. those bastards! then, dripping water and reclining on the wooden slatted chairs, Lola's played ending credits music from some 1980s dirty cop meets his big surprise style flick. Think Rocky meets Shaft meets Queen. And this played with gusto as the sun set and the spare clouds in the sky turned fire crisp.
We've been eating dinners at a pizzeria\taqueria. we eat 50 cent tacos while we wait for our wood oven baked pizza. Cant seem to escape the Italian influences on this coast, at any cost. El Delfin is the name of the place, and their open air tables are set up in the street. I just love a place that doesn't seem to follow any rules or laws. The gun=toting tourist police are nonexistent, and dear lord i can just imagine the economic costs that would impact Zipolite, with its nudists doing the grapevine down the beach at 10pm, with its drug addled populace, with its inviting strip of beach, with its shambhala eco freaks performing rituals of nightly terror & horror. this is not disneyland, after all.
but mostly the air here is chill. this place is hella CHILL. and we're in a semi coma state of pure relaxation most of the time. this morning i got out of bed at the ungodly hour of 8 am and took a walk into town to use the internet cafe. (i had to wait 10 minute for it to open). andrew and adan are still sleeping, or maybe they've awoken and are wondering where the heck i've gone. either way, i should probably sign off here. there's more havoc to wreak and more 2 for 1 pina coladas to consume beachside. i turn a very hefty 25 tonight at midnight...who knows what fear and salty tastes will be in my mouth tomorrow, as a newly minted Quarter Century Boy.
success on the beach, part 1
puerto escondido deflated on us in a way. the two story inflatable tub of Coronas on the pier, that beacon of terrible music and early early morning propaganda broadcasts, had disappeared by Monday morning. In its place, high up on the hill, was the largest Mexican flag we've ever seen (in our short lil existences), giving us hope that Mexico had finally won the war over Corona monopolization of every friggin restaurant and bar in P.E. We were seriously growing mad and turning our aggressions outward every time we heard (once again) 'solomente Corona.' the shopkeepers said with a resigned look on their faces. So we took our newfound independence from crappy Mexican beer to our favorite restaurant, Alicia, and tested the waters. Damn! They were still swamped in excess corona, so we could not partake in our crappy Mexican beer of choice, Cerveza Sol.
But we found an amazing cove...it would make James Bond drip from his wetsuit...and spent another day in paradise, as it were.
The nightlife fluttered and floundered, unfortunately, due to the missing coronas towers that were, yes, a beacon of terror, but also, a beacon of FUN. So Adan and I grabbed some ice cream and stood out on the beach. We werent sure if this was allowed....apparently people have been beaten to a pulp for lesser crimes by the tourist police. But we took our chances. Eventually a platoon of police goons did slither onto the beach with their assault rifles aimed unusually high, but Adan and I were just talking, so we were in the clear (save the mezcal in our backpack). As the troop of police brutality slid past us, we took the cue and returned to the main street and dutifully bought Tshirts that would be insulting if we wore them in Mexico.
As the night slid away up at our vista hotel, polishing off the mezcal, swinging in our hammocks and sloshing in our brains, with cats making painful love in the bushes, we signed off from Puerto Escondido and slid into our deranged dreams of chicken heads casting ballots for vicente foxes.
But we found an amazing cove...it would make James Bond drip from his wetsuit...and spent another day in paradise, as it were.
The nightlife fluttered and floundered, unfortunately, due to the missing coronas towers that were, yes, a beacon of terror, but also, a beacon of FUN. So Adan and I grabbed some ice cream and stood out on the beach. We werent sure if this was allowed....apparently people have been beaten to a pulp for lesser crimes by the tourist police. But we took our chances. Eventually a platoon of police goons did slither onto the beach with their assault rifles aimed unusually high, but Adan and I were just talking, so we were in the clear (save the mezcal in our backpack). As the troop of police brutality slid past us, we took the cue and returned to the main street and dutifully bought Tshirts that would be insulting if we wore them in Mexico.
As the night slid away up at our vista hotel, polishing off the mezcal, swinging in our hammocks and sloshing in our brains, with cats making painful love in the bushes, we signed off from Puerto Escondido and slid into our deranged dreams of chicken heads casting ballots for vicente foxes.
Monday, November 26, 2007
the hidden port
fear and panic gripped us until we settled into our overnight, first class, 10 hour bus to the coast. then we relaxed. then we pulled out the cookies and milk. then we popped tylenol PMs, inserted our ear plugs, donned our face masks and tried, in agony, to get some semblance of sleep on a shaky, bumpy ride. our eyes peeled open at the cracklight of dawn to see a vibrant, lush plain of low trees and endless grasses and the occasional donkey obstacle. we pulled into Puetro Escondido (the hidden port) at around 730 am and checked out bags at Cabanas Pepe (andrew has stayed here twice before...once with amenee, once with phil) where we got a 3 bedroom with a million dollar balcony view for 25 us dollars per night. we walked up the beach in search of breakfast and witnessed the fishing boats pull onto shore D Day style as the crazy denizens swarmed in, pulling the fresh fish off the boat onto the sand, shouting offers for mackeral and these mini shark like fish. later that night we would eat these mackeral, either fried or in salsa, whole. with bone skull and all.
we found a cove where the swimming wasn´t deadly and the price of a cerveza was easy on the wallet. and kicked it. swimming in the pacific ocean. this is strange and unusual. and so very sweet. the tourists down here are mostly mexican, spanish or french. but mostly mexican. there are a handful of americans, but they stay in the tourist box and go surfing all day. in fact, we strolled the main part of town (the main street closes to vehicles after 6 pm...what a fucking good idea!) and soaked in some bad cover songs from an impromptu stage setup in the street (so far every night in mexico there has been a band or orchestra set up in the main square playing free music. also, every night we´ve been here there has been a fireworks show...however brief. I´m all for having a fireworks show at 7 pm every night to celebrate the end of the work day. Por que no?).
the nightlife here has suffered from being the low season. all the tourists are spread out thinly between the gazillion bars that no one bar has any synergy. our picture was taken from the bushes, followed by whistles, so the fear is settling in once again. the tourist police carry M16s...for use on tourists or to protect tourists we do not know. we are going to go be lazy on some beach all day today and then move on to Zipolite, a more casual, relaxed atmosphere, as if we need a place even MORE relaxed than this hidden port city.
so far, no illness has befallen us. but we did run into a 70 year old Polish guy with a big beer gut who tells us he escaped East Germany to live in Australia, where he was given a retirement pension and has been traveling for 35 years. his name is Piotr, and he is my very definition of a ´madman´. his story is inconsistent. he has nine 40 gallon jugs of water in his hotel room (just two rooms over from us). he tells us he doesn´t want to talk politics, but then proceeds to rip apart America and urges us to run for president.
but overall, we are in a good spot.
with love and fear and loathing,
Chuck
p.s. i am taking pictures with my film camera, so don´t expect any images until a few weeks after my return. maybe andrew will upload a few from his camera¿=?
we found a cove where the swimming wasn´t deadly and the price of a cerveza was easy on the wallet. and kicked it. swimming in the pacific ocean. this is strange and unusual. and so very sweet. the tourists down here are mostly mexican, spanish or french. but mostly mexican. there are a handful of americans, but they stay in the tourist box and go surfing all day. in fact, we strolled the main part of town (the main street closes to vehicles after 6 pm...what a fucking good idea!) and soaked in some bad cover songs from an impromptu stage setup in the street (so far every night in mexico there has been a band or orchestra set up in the main square playing free music. also, every night we´ve been here there has been a fireworks show...however brief. I´m all for having a fireworks show at 7 pm every night to celebrate the end of the work day. Por que no?).
the nightlife here has suffered from being the low season. all the tourists are spread out thinly between the gazillion bars that no one bar has any synergy. our picture was taken from the bushes, followed by whistles, so the fear is settling in once again. the tourist police carry M16s...for use on tourists or to protect tourists we do not know. we are going to go be lazy on some beach all day today and then move on to Zipolite, a more casual, relaxed atmosphere, as if we need a place even MORE relaxed than this hidden port city.
so far, no illness has befallen us. but we did run into a 70 year old Polish guy with a big beer gut who tells us he escaped East Germany to live in Australia, where he was given a retirement pension and has been traveling for 35 years. his name is Piotr, and he is my very definition of a ´madman´. his story is inconsistent. he has nine 40 gallon jugs of water in his hotel room (just two rooms over from us). he tells us he doesn´t want to talk politics, but then proceeds to rip apart America and urges us to run for president.
but overall, we are in a good spot.
with love and fear and loathing,
Chuck
p.s. i am taking pictures with my film camera, so don´t expect any images until a few weeks after my return. maybe andrew will upload a few from his camera¿=?
Saturday, November 24, 2007
the fear & horror
hola mi amigos.
andrew and i made it to oaxaca city, mexico without much trouble. adan, 3rd in our cadre of goons, arrived 5 hours after us, so drew and i secured a hotel, took a 3 hour nap, then met up with adan on the steps of the cathedral off the zocalo, the main plaza in oaxaca. it was timed perfectly. we designed ourselves better in the shower and then headed out to look for for a thanksgiving feast. we walked and walked, tantalized by the options, but never quite satisfied. we eventually settled on a cafe off the zocalo and paid a little more for the ambience. Adan and i had the chicken and rice with mole negro and coloradito (a thick chocolate-spice sauce). andrew had some tomato soup and a salty as all hell quesadilla. we toasted with Cerveza Sol, which would soon become a theme for this trip.
we retired to our room fairly early to rest up (we were dead tired after a full day of travel) for the next day. but somehow we got sucked into watching Muhammed Ali boxing matches, including the [rumble in the jungle} fight in africa. We were entranced and half¿zombied.
the 2nd day we woke up late, grabbed some breaded pastry items, and headed for a hotel where we caught a bus to Monte Alban, a Zapotec site of extraordinary breadth and ruination, just outside Oaxaca. It was a day to walk around and contemplate the history and stuff. But mostly we cant stop laughing, theres always something that catches our eyes and is need of a wise crack. I love traveling with amigos...we are like a cadre of fools let loose upon a sneaky'clean culture. we get the fear sometimes very much, but we have each other to overcome it.
like today we spent at least 3 hours walking around a huge outdoor market...a true labyrinth, really. The stalls are lined up and bunched together so that one second you are walking between rows and rows of dead chickens and then the next moment you are looking at baby clothing. Truly only a bout of sheer horror can fix us in our Sols...which we need on a regular basis just to manage. What i like best about Oaxaca is the flashes of utter strangeness I glimpse for just split=seconds as I turn my head in one direction, and then turn it in another direction. Theres something going on at every moment and its so small and everyday, but its so large and peculiar to the travelers eye.
Last night we ate at a restaurant called [el biche pobre}, which i think means the poor drink, but which i wish meant the poor bitch. shots of mezcal, the local liquor derived from the agave plant and aged in smokey barrels, were had in equal doses. our waiter had spent 4 years in L.A. painting houses before he was deported back to Oaxaca recently. He will return someday, he assured us. Also a retired German sat at the table across from us. He spoke fluent spanish, having been a trader of merchandise or something. It was hard to understand him..in fact, i didnt understand a word he said. But Andrew got bits and pieces, so he translated for me. The German was speaking English, by the way. He was retired and taking a trip through Mexico. By himself. Lonely, but he looked happy enough. And he didnt have the usual German tourist stance...i.e. where he ignores other foreigners, where he wears nothing but khakis and walks in herds. Good for him. We suggested he try the mezcal, and so he did.
Then later in the night we visited a nightclub with pounding disco music and projections of MTV2. Andrew and Adan kept getting me to chat up some chicas sitting across from us...they were reportedly smiling at me...but I am a coward in a situation where nobody can hear what the other is saying due to the blaring music. So we left, but it wasnt long before we walked back up the street. mind you, this was a carless street, and thus was full of throbs of people, Italian passegiata style, flooding the streets to see and be seen. Mostly young people. It was a Friday, after all. So we ended up at this Rock Club. The clientele were mostly high school and college students but the beer was cheap. The pit band soon struck up some good cover songs including Franz Ferdinand, the Crandberries (!!!), and Pink Floyd. And we were hooked. We chatted up some folks there, you might say, and danced ourselves silly, you might say. For some reason Spanish comes off my tongue so much easier when in the situation of a loud bar and many drinks in me. Que pasa? Anyhow, we retreated (literally fleeing) to our hotel room at about 1 in the morning. The night was still young, but we were not in the mood to push our luck.
Today many people have been either wanting our picture taken, or taking our picture indiscriminately from their cameraphones. We have got the fear and terror. Soon we must leave this place. Luckily we bought an overnight, first class bus ticket out of here, departing at 10 pm. We will sleep on the bus and arrive in Puerto Escondido at 7 am tomorrow. Thus we will begin the lazy beach bum days of our trip. I am looking forward to more wildlife, less street pandemonium.
Will report back soon.
Until then, rest assured of my safety and security.
and my warmth! it is in the 80s, 90s here, with warm nights. the coast is supposed to be even hotter. time to go swimming!
it feels like summer down here, despite the omnipresent sales of plastic christmas trees.
with fear, love and sheer horror,
Chuck
p.s. for those naysayers telling me Oaxaca is still a dangerous place to be. Well, all i can say is I feel real safe here. No troubles. No outbreaks of violence. No shady business. It may be dangerous on an underground level, but its safe here.
andrew and i made it to oaxaca city, mexico without much trouble. adan, 3rd in our cadre of goons, arrived 5 hours after us, so drew and i secured a hotel, took a 3 hour nap, then met up with adan on the steps of the cathedral off the zocalo, the main plaza in oaxaca. it was timed perfectly. we designed ourselves better in the shower and then headed out to look for for a thanksgiving feast. we walked and walked, tantalized by the options, but never quite satisfied. we eventually settled on a cafe off the zocalo and paid a little more for the ambience. Adan and i had the chicken and rice with mole negro and coloradito (a thick chocolate-spice sauce). andrew had some tomato soup and a salty as all hell quesadilla. we toasted with Cerveza Sol, which would soon become a theme for this trip.
we retired to our room fairly early to rest up (we were dead tired after a full day of travel) for the next day. but somehow we got sucked into watching Muhammed Ali boxing matches, including the [rumble in the jungle} fight in africa. We were entranced and half¿zombied.
the 2nd day we woke up late, grabbed some breaded pastry items, and headed for a hotel where we caught a bus to Monte Alban, a Zapotec site of extraordinary breadth and ruination, just outside Oaxaca. It was a day to walk around and contemplate the history and stuff. But mostly we cant stop laughing, theres always something that catches our eyes and is need of a wise crack. I love traveling with amigos...we are like a cadre of fools let loose upon a sneaky'clean culture. we get the fear sometimes very much, but we have each other to overcome it.
like today we spent at least 3 hours walking around a huge outdoor market...a true labyrinth, really. The stalls are lined up and bunched together so that one second you are walking between rows and rows of dead chickens and then the next moment you are looking at baby clothing. Truly only a bout of sheer horror can fix us in our Sols...which we need on a regular basis just to manage. What i like best about Oaxaca is the flashes of utter strangeness I glimpse for just split=seconds as I turn my head in one direction, and then turn it in another direction. Theres something going on at every moment and its so small and everyday, but its so large and peculiar to the travelers eye.
Last night we ate at a restaurant called [el biche pobre}, which i think means the poor drink, but which i wish meant the poor bitch. shots of mezcal, the local liquor derived from the agave plant and aged in smokey barrels, were had in equal doses. our waiter had spent 4 years in L.A. painting houses before he was deported back to Oaxaca recently. He will return someday, he assured us. Also a retired German sat at the table across from us. He spoke fluent spanish, having been a trader of merchandise or something. It was hard to understand him..in fact, i didnt understand a word he said. But Andrew got bits and pieces, so he translated for me. The German was speaking English, by the way. He was retired and taking a trip through Mexico. By himself. Lonely, but he looked happy enough. And he didnt have the usual German tourist stance...i.e. where he ignores other foreigners, where he wears nothing but khakis and walks in herds. Good for him. We suggested he try the mezcal, and so he did.
Then later in the night we visited a nightclub with pounding disco music and projections of MTV2. Andrew and Adan kept getting me to chat up some chicas sitting across from us...they were reportedly smiling at me...but I am a coward in a situation where nobody can hear what the other is saying due to the blaring music. So we left, but it wasnt long before we walked back up the street. mind you, this was a carless street, and thus was full of throbs of people, Italian passegiata style, flooding the streets to see and be seen. Mostly young people. It was a Friday, after all. So we ended up at this Rock Club. The clientele were mostly high school and college students but the beer was cheap. The pit band soon struck up some good cover songs including Franz Ferdinand, the Crandberries (!!!), and Pink Floyd. And we were hooked. We chatted up some folks there, you might say, and danced ourselves silly, you might say. For some reason Spanish comes off my tongue so much easier when in the situation of a loud bar and many drinks in me. Que pasa? Anyhow, we retreated (literally fleeing) to our hotel room at about 1 in the morning. The night was still young, but we were not in the mood to push our luck.
Today many people have been either wanting our picture taken, or taking our picture indiscriminately from their cameraphones. We have got the fear and terror. Soon we must leave this place. Luckily we bought an overnight, first class bus ticket out of here, departing at 10 pm. We will sleep on the bus and arrive in Puerto Escondido at 7 am tomorrow. Thus we will begin the lazy beach bum days of our trip. I am looking forward to more wildlife, less street pandemonium.
Will report back soon.
Until then, rest assured of my safety and security.
and my warmth! it is in the 80s, 90s here, with warm nights. the coast is supposed to be even hotter. time to go swimming!
it feels like summer down here, despite the omnipresent sales of plastic christmas trees.
with fear, love and sheer horror,
Chuck
p.s. for those naysayers telling me Oaxaca is still a dangerous place to be. Well, all i can say is I feel real safe here. No troubles. No outbreaks of violence. No shady business. It may be dangerous on an underground level, but its safe here.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Viajamos en Mehico - Nov. 22 thru Dec. 2
Vuelo | Operado por | Fecha | Salida | Llegada | Escalas | ||||
943 | MX | 21 nov |
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| 0 | ||||
553 | MX | 22 nov |
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| 0 | ||||
217 | MX | 22 nov |
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| 0 | ||||
222 | MX | 02 dic |
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| 0 | ||||
944 | MX | 02 dic |
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Sunday, April 22, 2007
out of contact, out of touch, in touch, in contact
i´m sitting at an air conditioned internet cafe at 830 pm in la fortuna, costa rica. this country has all the goods and niceties that i have been without for so long. but all for the better, do understand.
i have much to tell...but not much time to tell right now. all i can do is rattle off the places i visited and activities i did in the past five days
- stayed at a hippie commune
- ate homemade Nutella and organic bread
- was serenaded by brazillian fire dancers
- slept in a one person tent on only a wool blanket (in honor of colin)
- went for a dip in an amazing freshwater pool in the middle of nowhere
- took an overnight ferry ride from ometepe island to san carlos, nicaragua where i slept on a concrete deck and got absolutely no sleep
- cruised 46 km down the rio san juan and, after some dillydallying, found the jungle resort i paid $15-night to stay at.
- kayaked the sabalos river for about 5 km through both some virgin rain forest and cow and pig farms. i also saw turtles sunbathing, green iguanas, river otters, many water fowl, howler monkeys and baseball players post-gametime who stared me down the river.
- took a public boat to el castillo, where i met up with a long lost fellow swedish traveler, and we toured an ancient fortress where as recently as 1985 scores of people were killed in battle...and wound up getting misinformation on the public boat schedules and ended up stranded 25 km downriver from my resort. my saviors? two gringo sport-fishermen who just happened to stop off and get some beers. i hopped a ride in their speedboat and cruised back up the river in style, while they fished for the elusive sabalos fish...big ass fish.
well, then i took 2 very long boat rides and 2 very long bus rides and now i´m only halfway to liberia, costa rica...where i´ll fly home on tuesday.
any questions? just ask. i have to make a 800 word travel article out of this BY FRIDAY. anything particularly stand out?
take care all,
i am safe and healthy.
ciao
chuck
i have much to tell...but not much time to tell right now. all i can do is rattle off the places i visited and activities i did in the past five days
- stayed at a hippie commune
- ate homemade Nutella and organic bread
- was serenaded by brazillian fire dancers
- slept in a one person tent on only a wool blanket (in honor of colin)
- went for a dip in an amazing freshwater pool in the middle of nowhere
- took an overnight ferry ride from ometepe island to san carlos, nicaragua where i slept on a concrete deck and got absolutely no sleep
- cruised 46 km down the rio san juan and, after some dillydallying, found the jungle resort i paid $15-night to stay at.
- kayaked the sabalos river for about 5 km through both some virgin rain forest and cow and pig farms. i also saw turtles sunbathing, green iguanas, river otters, many water fowl, howler monkeys and baseball players post-gametime who stared me down the river.
- took a public boat to el castillo, where i met up with a long lost fellow swedish traveler, and we toured an ancient fortress where as recently as 1985 scores of people were killed in battle...and wound up getting misinformation on the public boat schedules and ended up stranded 25 km downriver from my resort. my saviors? two gringo sport-fishermen who just happened to stop off and get some beers. i hopped a ride in their speedboat and cruised back up the river in style, while they fished for the elusive sabalos fish...big ass fish.
well, then i took 2 very long boat rides and 2 very long bus rides and now i´m only halfway to liberia, costa rica...where i´ll fly home on tuesday.
any questions? just ask. i have to make a 800 word travel article out of this BY FRIDAY. anything particularly stand out?
take care all,
i am safe and healthy.
ciao
chuck
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
volcano bombs
so i hefted my body straight up a volcano yesterday. truly, since they don´t build switchbacks here...just straight up and up. but the first half is a pleasant jaunt through organic, shade grown coffee groves and then shade grown cocoa trees. halfway up the 5km trail the clouds move in and it´s a cloud forest, complete with drippy, mossy trees, jungle vines, mud holes, and the occasional box turtle (which we placed on a rock for its viewing pleasure). at the very top you descend this steep bank to get to a crater lake. again, it was shrouded in misty clouds, so i half expected an indigenous tribal chief to float across the pond in his pontoon boat and offer us McDonalds hamburgers.
i was in a pretty large group, along with a band of mischievious gun-toting and bomb-toting nicaraguan men. they set off two bombs...one at the halfway point up the trail and one at the crater lake´s edge. well, when i say ´bomb´i´m more likely thinking an M-80..or one of colin´s homemade bombs. and actually they were just really powerful mortars. but other than that, it was a nice, knee'crunching time to be had.
now i´m just relaxing on this huge porch in a hammock and hopefully my body will repair itself with all this mango and pineapple juice i´m drinking. later today me and a few fellows are moving to the farm next door where they have homemade bread (no more hot dog buns for bread!), peanut butter, chocolate, and free bananas. i have yet to eat a banana here. strange.
then on thursday i catch the ferry boat and take an overnight trip to the east side of Lake Nicaragua, where i take a public boat downriver to Boca de Sabalos and stay at the Sabalos Lodge ecolodge (google it).
signing off,
Charlos (it´s about as close to Charles as the Nicas can manage)
i was in a pretty large group, along with a band of mischievious gun-toting and bomb-toting nicaraguan men. they set off two bombs...one at the halfway point up the trail and one at the crater lake´s edge. well, when i say ´bomb´i´m more likely thinking an M-80..or one of colin´s homemade bombs. and actually they were just really powerful mortars. but other than that, it was a nice, knee'crunching time to be had.
now i´m just relaxing on this huge porch in a hammock and hopefully my body will repair itself with all this mango and pineapple juice i´m drinking. later today me and a few fellows are moving to the farm next door where they have homemade bread (no more hot dog buns for bread!), peanut butter, chocolate, and free bananas. i have yet to eat a banana here. strange.
then on thursday i catch the ferry boat and take an overnight trip to the east side of Lake Nicaragua, where i take a public boat downriver to Boca de Sabalos and stay at the Sabalos Lodge ecolodge (google it).
signing off,
Charlos (it´s about as close to Charles as the Nicas can manage)
Monday, April 16, 2007
island dreaming
hello all,
i´m alive and safe and healthy and still no theft or buggery. well, the place i´m at now has a bug problem, but that will just have to be dealt with as i´m here for 3 days. check out Finca Magdalena (google it) for info.
i spent the past couple of days on a nice, warm, tropical beach on Isla del Ometepe...at Hotel Charco Verde (you can google that too). where i did il dolce far niente (the sweetness of doing nothing), well aside from the short hikes to see the monkey family and their caps for sale and the sea kayak adventure around a cape to visit an island inhabited by one horse and many birds and a few stubborn mangos (well, luckily we brought our own).
i paid for everything with a credit card because it was damn expensive. i stayed at the chi chi place with the chi chi prices, but generally it was well worth it. now i´m at cheap place with cots and dirty sheets but at least the food is excellent...just had the chicken soup...which featured a little chicky (whole) stewed with broth and veggies...topped off with a mango juice.
tomorrow or the next day i will trek to the top of the volcano just behind the farm-hostel. its a 8 hour hike with a cloud forest and well, i´ll report back what i see. in the meantime i´m just going to lounge around and drink coffee and look at at the volcano across the isthmus..volcan conception....one of the finest mountains i´ve ever seen...sort of like mt. fuji but with a cloud top instead of snow top.
be cool.
stay in school.
if you want to get shot.
peace,
chuck
i´m alive and safe and healthy and still no theft or buggery. well, the place i´m at now has a bug problem, but that will just have to be dealt with as i´m here for 3 days. check out Finca Magdalena (google it) for info.
i spent the past couple of days on a nice, warm, tropical beach on Isla del Ometepe...at Hotel Charco Verde (you can google that too). where i did il dolce far niente (the sweetness of doing nothing), well aside from the short hikes to see the monkey family and their caps for sale and the sea kayak adventure around a cape to visit an island inhabited by one horse and many birds and a few stubborn mangos (well, luckily we brought our own).
i paid for everything with a credit card because it was damn expensive. i stayed at the chi chi place with the chi chi prices, but generally it was well worth it. now i´m at cheap place with cots and dirty sheets but at least the food is excellent...just had the chicken soup...which featured a little chicky (whole) stewed with broth and veggies...topped off with a mango juice.
tomorrow or the next day i will trek to the top of the volcano just behind the farm-hostel. its a 8 hour hike with a cloud forest and well, i´ll report back what i see. in the meantime i´m just going to lounge around and drink coffee and look at at the volcano across the isthmus..volcan conception....one of the finest mountains i´ve ever seen...sort of like mt. fuji but with a cloud top instead of snow top.
be cool.
stay in school.
if you want to get shot.
peace,
chuck
Friday, April 13, 2007
aqui! aqui!
Fun facts before you go to bed;
1. nicaraguans love their casinos. they especially love slot machines. i think it has something to do with the dream of getting rich in a piss poor country (by the way, mongolia is the only country i´ve been in that´s poorer... with qualifications). just across the street are plenty of slots and it´s packed. the other favorite pasttime appears to be playing soccer in front of hundred year old churches, having the goal be the front door and portico. there´s even a painted soccer field on the plaza, so i´m guessing the city encourages it. It´s a mix of sport and religion...quite a sight!
2. you must negotiate with the teenage kid who wants to speak english with you on a set price for companionship BEFORE he accompanies you through the local cathedrals and museums. you must also realize that what he considers a tour guide is really just a person who reads you the title cards, in spanish, so you don´t have to strain your eyes in the low light. he´ll demand an outstanding fee for this service. upwards of $4. you will only pay him $1.30, then take his picture.
3. while eating out alone, it is muy importante that you order a beverage called tiste. It´s a slushy corn meal sweet drink and it passes the time as you gaze out at the quiet street scene outside waiting for your fried fish and rice. and don´t eat the salad.
4. always have a 1 cordoba piece on your person for the sole reason of surrendering it upon some pestering lady´s request.
5. parakeets, when they congregate in a clump of palm trees, are the loudest godawful squawkfest you´ll ever hear.
Now, time for bed and dream of volcanoes.
signed,
chuck
1. nicaraguans love their casinos. they especially love slot machines. i think it has something to do with the dream of getting rich in a piss poor country (by the way, mongolia is the only country i´ve been in that´s poorer... with qualifications). just across the street are plenty of slots and it´s packed. the other favorite pasttime appears to be playing soccer in front of hundred year old churches, having the goal be the front door and portico. there´s even a painted soccer field on the plaza, so i´m guessing the city encourages it. It´s a mix of sport and religion...quite a sight!
2. you must negotiate with the teenage kid who wants to speak english with you on a set price for companionship BEFORE he accompanies you through the local cathedrals and museums. you must also realize that what he considers a tour guide is really just a person who reads you the title cards, in spanish, so you don´t have to strain your eyes in the low light. he´ll demand an outstanding fee for this service. upwards of $4. you will only pay him $1.30, then take his picture.
3. while eating out alone, it is muy importante that you order a beverage called tiste. It´s a slushy corn meal sweet drink and it passes the time as you gaze out at the quiet street scene outside waiting for your fried fish and rice. and don´t eat the salad.
4. always have a 1 cordoba piece on your person for the sole reason of surrendering it upon some pestering lady´s request.
5. parakeets, when they congregate in a clump of palm trees, are the loudest godawful squawkfest you´ll ever hear.
Now, time for bed and dream of volcanoes.
signed,
chuck
granada
the only thing i have to report is that i saw a delivery truck out delivering Columbus Salame Company goods. it seems even their meat has been colonized.
i´m in granada, a relatively peaceful little labyrinth <compared to managua< and the hostel i´m staying at has free internet. go figure.
also< sweat is dripping down my arm.
ta ta from el tropico,
chuck
i´m in granada, a relatively peaceful little labyrinth <compared to managua< and the hostel i´m staying at has free internet. go figure.
also< sweat is dripping down my arm.
ta ta from el tropico,
chuck
Thursday, April 12, 2007
i'm alive and very very hot
Flew through a lightning storm this past evening, but made it to Managua, Nicaragua just fine. Kyra and her boyfriend were at the airport to pick me up.
Unfortunately Kyra can't come on any adventures this weekend, so I'm setting a new course. I'm heading to Granada tomorrow where I'll probably stay for 2 nights before
heading down to the Isla del Ometepe (an extra day ahead of schedule). I'll miss out on the Northern Highlands, but this way will be WAY less complex (though I'll only get to spend one evening with Kyra :(
It's actually raining here! THis is VERY RARE for Managua so the denizens here are extremely happy for some heat relief. It's about 85 degrees right now (at 11:19 PM !!).
I'm sooooo tired...
I'll email again from the fast connection in Granada (gringo-city from what I hear).
Til then, here's hoping I can navigate this labyrinth city tomorrow...
Take care ,
Chuck in the Tropics
Unfortunately Kyra can't come on any adventures this weekend, so I'm setting a new course. I'm heading to Granada tomorrow where I'll probably stay for 2 nights before
heading down to the Isla del Ometepe (an extra day ahead of schedule). I'll miss out on the Northern Highlands, but this way will be WAY less complex (though I'll only get to spend one evening with Kyra :(
It's actually raining here! THis is VERY RARE for Managua so the denizens here are extremely happy for some heat relief. It's about 85 degrees right now (at 11:19 PM !!).
I'm sooooo tired...
I'll email again from the fast connection in Granada (gringo-city from what I hear).
Til then, here's hoping I can navigate this labyrinth city tomorrow...
Take care ,
Chuck in the Tropics
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