A Loo With A View

Trip Start Dec 07, 2011
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Flag of Mexico  , Central Mexico and Gulf Coast,
Monday, February 20, 2012

Mazunte is a world apart from the other towns in the region. Its hippy vibe sits tolerably alongside the local population with small restaurants, breakfast bars and pubs run by a mix of ex-pats and Mexicans. The town's streets are lined with palm groves which are often the tallest structures over and above the buildings. The whole town which covers only a handful of streets sits in its own little enclave by the sea. There is no evidence of commercialism here other than the local small businesses that cater for the westerner looking for that something they did not find back home. This is a paradise of sorts but it was clearly evident with some of the visitors that whatever they were searching for they had not found. Their disappointment danced with their imported anger; not outward anger but passive; the sort that gets very upset over a little spilt milk. But others came here without their emotional bags and seemed to get exactly what Mazunte could offer and that is Sun, Sea and…what is that other one now…oh yes, Mezcal, the local spirit; brewed from cactus plants. I didn’t try it myself but I hear it is pretty strong stuff making whiskey look like tonic water.

However, so far as Julie and I were concerned were not looking for redemption, searching for a lost soul or even Mezcal. We just wanted a few days lounging by the sea and a little Julie and Iain fun. We found a spectacular Cabana precariously built on a small outcrop of rock where the sea washed its feet at high tide. This was also the oldest established place in Mazunte for foreigners to stay at. And as luck would have it we seriously landed on our feet with the 'room’ that became available the morning we came knocking. Truly rustic in its most basic of forms; I’ll let the photos speak for themselves. Who needed the Seychelles when we had this!

The bed is suspended on ropes and swings back and forth. This purpose is primarily to avoid sharing the bed with creepy crawlies but it lent to some very lazy love making. The shower and loo were awesome with a view to die for. There was sufficient visual protection from the outside world to cover your dignity but we were really exposed to the elements. The apertures where you would normally expect to see glass for a window was open space, no shutters, just fresh wind off the sea. The mosquito netting was essential as this is Malaria country, albeit low season. Yes even the mosquitos have a holiday, well most of the little bastards do! I slept, unknowingly, with my bare bum up against the netting (too hot at night for covers) one night to find a very itchy derrière with multiple bites in the morning. Lesson learnt, I think!

The heat here was fairly oppressive and I ran out of fresh clothes very quickly. As soon as you showered the menace of sweat re-appeared without notice. This also had a big impact on hydration levels. It proved very difficult to keep up with the amount of fluid we lost in a day. Unfortunately this led me to a very painful experience. The day before we left the mountains in San Jose De La Pacifico, for reasons I still do not understand, my bowel had an identity crisis and evacuated as if it was the bladder. With an impending four hour journey the next day I reached for something I never reach for, Imodium. This certainly solved the identity crisis for my bowel, but from being overgenerous with its ablutions it now chose to be stingy and not pass anything.

After two days of Mazunte bliss and bowel hell there was still no movement. But with a sudden onset of cramping I had a sudden urge to visit the Loo with a view. Whilst contemplating the physiology of a blocked passage and waiting for something to shift I could watch the world go by from the comfort of the loo seat, which in most circumstances would be a very pleasant experience. However, as the cramps increased and the necessity to intervene loomed ever closer the need to push and shred my haemorrhoids became unbearable. With my eyes standing out on stalks and a facial expression more reminiscent of a power lifter struggling to hoist a 1000 kilo weight over his shoulders I forgot about the view. Anyway, suffice to say with a little intervention the dam burst and I lifted two feet of the seat with the back pressure from my bowels. Do you remember the trick of patting your head and circling your stomach with your hands at the same time…well try rubbing your head and nursing your anus with ice…and they say men can’t multi-task!

If I could have had a temporary colostomy fitted for the next six days I would have because despite the lovely view from the loo my facial expressions did not seem to change that much. I am writing this now from the comfortable seat of a plain loo with no view in San Cristobel De Las Casa (six days later)…such bliss. As San Cristobel is in the highlands and the heat is considerably less, the hydration issues are not a problem and therefore all bodily functions are back to normal. I would drink about 2.5 litres a day in Mazunte and it was still not enough. A very painful lesson learnt. As we are heading into high humidity/heat regions next week I am in training regarding fluid intake. Little and often is the key with rehydration sachets to back things up (though not the bowel) if necessary.

Mazunte will be remembered for many things good and painful but the Cabana was the best…and that bed, whoa! If anyone understands what perpetual motion is…well it doesn’t work; at least not in Mazunte, but we had fun trying!
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