Trip Start May 01, 2006
25Trip End Ongoing
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The last three or four days have taught me something about backpacking: if the place in which you find yourself isn´t absolutely incredible, pack your bags and move on, because that next special place is waiting for you just around the bend.
Such was the case as I somewhat reluctantly left Rosarito Junior. Part of me felt there was more to see in there, perhaps down by the beach, while another part felt drawn to move on. The latter part won the argument, thankfully, and insisted that I jump on the next bus headed west for Puerto Escondido.
The bus ride was fairly nondescript, stopping in what must be the ugliest town in Mexico, Porchutla
I quickly jumped off the bus and immediately knew this was the place. How, the weather? Well, partly - it was 95 degrees and dreadfully humid, even way up on the hill where the bus station and city proper sit. The palm trees? Yes, those too - the valley down by the ocean was very lush, much different from the arid wasteland of inland Oaxaca. But neither of these things were as reassuring that I had reached my destination as what was before me.
Absolutely enormous! Even the casual wave enthusiast knows Puerto Escondido has one of the best breaks anywhere in the world. Yep, this was immediately obviously, even from where I stood way up on the hill. I was probably a mile away from the beach and could still see those enormous swells pounding the coast, creating giant clouds of white water
"I´m gonna have trouble leaving this place."
And I have! What a fantastic town. There´s something spell binding about Puerto Escondido - to say the pace is "mellow" would be an understatement. Everyone takes a step a time. No one is in a rush. A quick siesta down by the beach seems to be the grandest midday ambition, but falling short of even that modest goal has been easy because the pool is so close. With the sunset comes the cervesa hour... surprisingly, we´ve had no trouble with our evening beer responsibilities!
Four days have passed and so too has any stress. I found a local surf shop that rents bodyboards and fins for $10/day. The swell was at it´s biggest when I arrived and is now back to "normal," which, at double overhead, is still a little too rich for my blood. I made some Aussie friends who know of a little point break, "La Punta", just 20 minutes South, where we´ve headed each morning to catch the nicest, longest, barreling left I´ve ever been on. The days have been long and easy - the are nights easy too, set aside for cocktails and the fantastic international cuisine found all around
Puerto is that kind of place that will grab you, albeit gently, and not let go. One girl on holiday from the UK budgeted 1 day out of a 30 for this town... she's now been here 12! Another fellow is still here after coming down from Canada to surf... 5 years ago.
Yes, if paradise was lost, it has now been found. But the days pass and there´s still much to see and do, so later tonight I´m jumping on a red eye bus bound for San Cristobal, an old colonial town high in the mountains of the Chiapas State.
But wait a minute! That´s later tonight, which means I have just enough time to grab some tacos and catch the evening surf session....