BootsnAll Travel Network



February 27th, 2007

posts have been a little thin lately, eh? sorry to be boring, but i’ve been out having adventures. mostly adventures you can have without leaving the beach, so they’ve been relaxing adventures. but it’s time for a full post with all the trimmings just like mom used to make.

er, when did i get here? last saturday? that’s ten nights. somewhere between 50 and 100 people have passed through here in that time. you get stuck. there was a surf competition called mexpipe going on when i arrived. the waves were bad. but every morning you could get up at ten and wander down to playa zicatela, sit in the stands, have a beer and watch the pros. i picked up some tips from watching them. like i learned that it’s very cool to ollie up to the lip of the wave and ride that for a second. if i need more points in my next competition maybe i’ll throw in one or two of those.

the last two or three nights of carnaval, there were samba floats going through town. there was a beauty contest where lots of boring speeches were given and the girls had to dance three or four times for the mexican judges to decide which one was better. also, two completely average looking mexican douchebags competed for the title of “El Rey Feo”. one of them was chubby and wore a ridiculous straw hat and in my opinion was the better of the two. mexican guys really seem to like the straw hats for parties. what’s that about? i want one.

there were some parties on the beach and a couple nights of reggae concerts under the stars. i was confused when they took down the stands and the stage. i hadn’t really thought about it, but i assumed there was always a stage right on the beach.

instead, all there is on the beach are umbrellas and ramadas. plastic tables and chairs are standard, but the best places scour furniture catalogs for the laziest, most reclining furniture possible. there are a few covered in bean bags, hammocks, and little pillows. micheladas are a standard drink here. it’s beer – maybe corona or pacifico, but it’s up to you – in a glass with ice and lime and chile or salsa, with salt around the rim. like a bloody mary for beer. they don’t go very well with the pancakes, which everyone seems to be able to make perfectly here, but they wash down a cheeseburger like you wouldn’t believe.

this is a stupid place to learn to surf right now – well, maybe always, at least you can’t really kill yourself now like in november – but i’ve been going out most days with a rented board. my shorts don’t fit perfectly because my weight is down, so i had a sunburned ass from sitting on the board waiting for waves.

i broke my cheap acapulco walmart sandals dancing my first night here, so i went without shoes. i’d need another two weeks to get them good and leathery, but we’ll work on that in the yucatan. conni’s plane gets to cancun friday afternoon. so i’m taking the overnight bus to san cristobal de las casas. it’s historical and cultural and stuff and supposed to be interesting. i’ll spend tomorrow night there and then take another overnight to cancun. then conni and i are traveling together for two weeks! we don’t have an itinerary, just a list of cool places we’d like to see. i’ll probably have to wear shoes for some of them, which isn’t that great, but otherwise i’m excited.

i’m going down to the beach to see who’s around and catch my last pacific sunset for a while. there’s some photos up finally and you can try to view them here. they’re not organized but i’ve taken out all the naked ones.

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can’t be asked

February 20th, 2007

sorry, i want to tell a great story or something but honestly there’s a parade outside and i can’t be asked to organize my thoughts. if you want to send me a text, my mexican number is 777-224-1119. i don’t remember mexico’s country code but i think it’s on the internet somewhere.

oh god, they’re all doing samba, ok here’s the deal, i posted something on the bootsnall forums that says where i am, so i’m reposting it here because it’s all written.

well, i’m an expert now. puerto escondido is full of surfers and others who just generally love the beach, and they’re all sure that there’s simply nothing up the coast until you hit san blas. that’s the consensus among backpackers here as far as i can tell. here’s what i did.

two nights by myself in acapulco. very boring by yourself. very resort-ey. k3 is the hostel there, right in the mix with all the highrise hotels. i can’t say whether that’s a nice place or not.

one night in pie de la cuesta, just around the western headland from acapulco’s bay. it’s chill there, relaxed small town twenty minutes from acapulco. there are quieter, cheaper, less touristed places, but they’re not twenty minutes from acapulco. the current is strong right now. you can swim but it’s not that great because you keep getting washed down the beach. there are two ships wrecked there since a month ago. one of them’s a ferry. you can climb all up in it. it’s smelly and old and dangerous. i’m putting it on my list of cool places you weren’t supposed to be in just ahead of abandoned hospital.

next place i stopped down the costa chica was marquelia, two hours south towards puerto escondido. that’s where you get off the bus. the better known beach there is playa ventura. i didn’t go there but a backpacker in cuernavaca recommended it, saying it was nice but maybe a little too boring on the weekends. he was also by himself.

i didn’t make it to ventura because playa volcana was much easier to get to from marquelia, where the bus station is. if you really want to go to ventura, i don’t think it’s more than a combi or two from marquelia, and anybody in town can tell you how to get there. but volcana is five minutes down the road. it’s a tiny fishing community. in two nights there (i stayed two nights because the combi driver offered to take me to a rodeo the second day. it didn’t happen and i feel a bit cheated out of what could have been an extra day here in escondido) i saw no tourists except for a group of forty retired people from mexican city.

food is a bit expensive. 60 or 70 pesos for fish a la diabla, or however you want it cooked, but it’s going to be fish. on the other hand, the owners of a restaurant let me hang my hammock for two nights in their ramada free of charge. and when they noticed that i didn’t buy dinner from anyone my second night, they offered to share their family’s meal with them that night. i declined and was asked to explain why my government makes it so difficult for mexicans to come and work. interesting place, like i say i was a little bored, but if you want something out of the way, go for it.

bored as i was, i went straight to escondido, but there’s another decent sized town somewhere in between. patineta nacional or something. *that’s definitely not the name, but it does start with a P and end in Nacional and it’s along the highway in southwestern oaxaca*

right by puerto escondido there’s also a couple quiet places. zipolite and mazunte. my guide book specifically says that mazunte is currently some kind of backpacker hot spot. here i haven’t heard anything about it, but everyone seems to love zipolite. if you want a place that’s convenient but small enough that you can have a fire and some beers on the beach, that’s where to do it.

or go to puerto escondido! i love it here.

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rodeo and tropical fruit raiders

February 9th, 2007

wow, i wasn’t ready for all the support i got for my broken heart letter. thanks! i’ll try to rack up a couple more. my heart’s doing much better now, but sadly my ass has regressed. they say immodium is bad for you because it interferes with your body’s natural defense against intestinal infections. but with a going away party tonight, a morning of horseback riding, and a five hour bus ride to acapulco coming in the next 24 hours, i’m saying “you can relax now, guts. that’s why god made antibiotics.”

three weeks of spanish classes have me cussing like a sailor. i started uploading my photos but they’re still private because i’m naked in several of them and i’m worried flickr might shut me down for distributing pornography. please bear with me a few more days while i figure out how to blur out my junk and we’ll get some gravy on this blogging biscuit, ok?

by far the best thing you’re going to see in those photos will be my trip to achichipico last week. go ahead and look for it on a map. it’s not there. the weekend started with a friday afternoon excursion with my grammar class to a water park by a stream in the mountains. my new watch gave up the ghost after a few trips down the water slides, so we used it as a diving ring on account of its bright yellow color and worthlessness. we failed utterly to retrieve it from some slimy rocks at the bottom of a chilly four-meter pool, so that’s where my new watch lives. if you have any leads on a $12 watch that lights up in seven different colors of indiglo, i’m in the market!

then my teacher and her boyfriend invited us three students back to her town for the weekend. i was the only one who accepted. the others had boyfriends or something. anyway we went for a long combi ride, stopped to buy me some cowboy boots, and took another combi to arrive finally in achichipico. kendy’s family fed me like a king morning and night for the next three days. i shared a bed with her boyfriend, luis.

friday night i learned to drive a combi. we picked up a dozen kids around town before stopping in a street to drink tequila from someone’s mom’s store. welcome to route 51, serving achichipico! i’m felipe and i’ll be your gringo driver this evening.

saturday i rode with kendy’s brother on his combi route, running back and forth between achichipico and yecapixtla, a bigger town nearby. not that i could ever find my way back, but if you wanted to get to achichipico, i think you have to ask for yecapixtla first (Travel Tip: the kids call it yeca!) and then hop on the 25. we charge 7 pesos, but i promise it’s money well spent!

saturday i took my new cowboy boots and a borrowed shirt to the rodeo. they call it jaripeo (that’s when they ride bulls) and the bullriders are called jinetes. i didn’t learn the word for standing in a downpour for three hours using folding chairs and plastic tables for cover, but i did get to learn a lot of swear words. we paid extra to get right down ringside and we saw a ton of action. i’ll prove it later with the photos. after the bulls and during the rain, lupillo rivera and his band played and everybody danced and got wetter and muddier, but we sure forgot about the cold. i learned to danse the paso duranguense, for which cowboy boots are absolutely essential. a cowboy hat is good too, but it just so happened that everybody with a spare hat that night had a tiny little head.

we spent sunday at a filthy little water hole in some tomato fields in the hills. you’ll see the pictures soon. those are the one’s i’m naked in. the plastic sides if the hole were steep enough you would (did. several times) fall in if you failed to hang onto the prickly weeds lining the edge. we chucked a sinful amount of tomatoes at each other. then, in what i consider the sad climax of the afternoon i had a bucket of slimy green water chucked at my feet where i was standing, naked, at the top of the plastic slope. when the water hit my feet they flew out from under me. i landed flat on my ass and slid naked down fifteen feet of plastic, ending in a green sludgy splash at the bottom. if there’s a scientific explanation for how i avoided dying of dysentery and tetanus and plague from that soaking, i’d like to see it.

then we climbed up the hill, ravaging every field we found along the way. as best i can figure, i ate twenty oranges, ten peaches, four and a half chirimoyas, and three avocados. i also smashed two melons which i was told were inedible. we posed for a photo with the volcano Popocatepetl and returned home like proper men, carrying an impressive load of fruits and vegetables in a bag we found. we were rewarded with meat. i had a nice shower. not a running-water kind of shower. they use a bucket of cold water and a bucket of hot with a little bowl to mix up warm water and pour on yourself. i can tell you, it washes off green slime and that’s more than enough for me.

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an email to dad

January 29th, 2007
yeah, i saw the desk. the pictures were good. that was an ambitious project and it’s awesome that you’re all finished with it now, and the desk of course looks really great. i bet mom’s pretty happy with it.
a tortilla shortage…i have no idea. all i can say is if it’s raising taco prices a few cents…i haven’t noticed. my personal mexican reality goes…ah crap there’s a mexican saying…something like…”they’ll tell you the whole fair went as well as they did at the games”…like, if you win your girl a big teddy bear, the fair was great, if you weren’t so lucky, the fair was shit…anyway i’m trying to say i’ve had good days and bad days here, mostly independent of tortilla prices. mostly independent.
my first week of spanish is over. my second week is going well. i have a set of index cards in my lap because this week i’m focusing on vocabulary. the four years of spanish meant almost nothing my first couple weeks here but now i’ve kind of harnessed all the vocabulary and grammar that was sleeping in my head, and i can use it in conversation, in a store, telling a story at my conversation table, dancing in a club, wherever. it’s awesome. where before there was a sound like excited birds chirping in the street, now there are conversations happening all around me. and about me. and with me. it’s great.
the trip is turning into everything i dreamed it would be, but there was a woman in it who’s here now in flesh and blood, and maybe it’s not such a good idea to dream about a person for two years as it is to dream about an adventure. i told her i appreciated everything but we were more than friends before. she said it’s been a long time since spain. i’m heartbroken…that’s all. i’ve never felt that way before. i’ll keep my heart on my sleeve because i think i like it there, but it’s going to sting for a while. i thought about getting drunk after she told me that, but i know better from listening to country songs. and that’s where i’m at with that.
going back home to work on my vocab and get some dinner. oh! tell mom to put a pushpin in cancun. i’m going there march 2. between cuernavaca and cancun, i really don’t know for sure, but my friend has already bought a flight to cancun and we’re traveling together for two weeks. anyway, lots of love from your son…and…i haven’t spoken to you in such an honest voice since october…or before, i don’t know. i don’t know why i did it now. probably the heartbreak thing. anyway i enjoyed writing you this way and i hope you enjoy reading it. maybe i’ll have to do it again sometime.
love
phil
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arrozzzzz, muñequita

January 19th, 2007

Monday, 15 Jan –

Alone again – it’s easier to write this way. It’s been a week without writing or taking pictures, so maybe I won’t remember it.

The Cruz Roja was cool, now that I think of it more objectively. Time has already chilled the fear and pain I felt there and I remember those four hours in a white room with more curiosity than feeling.

My new words from that night are aguja (needle) and suero (fluids). I’ve never had an IV drip before, and actually it was pretty rad. I still have the bruise on my had from where the nurse failed to intubate there (update: that bruise is gone, now i have one on my inner elbow from the successful intubation there, and in two or three days probably i’ll have a nice bruise on my cheek from where i smashed my face on a bunkbed in my windowless bedroom last night…i’ll take a picture when it gets really shiny).

Then after six more days and no improvement…and the first thoughts of flying home for medical treatment…Rico showed up and dragged me out for chicken soup at a restaurant called “La Chata” which means “little nose” and is apparently a nice way to refer to your wife. Rico taught me some nasty things to say to girls, and we figured out how I can use the lines without getting slapped…I just follow it up with Innocent Face and “no hablo español”. The plan might not be airtight, but for a guy who just spent six days in bed, it was enough to laugh a little. Naturally, after a couple hours in the company of a sleazy tijuanan, having to run to a toilet every hour and a half turned into a big joke. And once it became a joke it didn’t seem like such a big deal, so a day later I packed up my pedialyte and took a bus to guanajuato. And now I’m in a cafe eating whatever I want…in this case mulletes. Here a mullet is half a roll covered in gravy and cheese, baked, and served with a tomatillo sauce…if only they knew what a funny name that is, their faces would turn bright red and they’d change it to something more respectable…they’re so innocent…god bless their tiny minds.

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…and that’s when the clown attacked

January 10th, 2007

holy crap, i’ve lost ten or fifteen pounds in three days! “felipe, look at that slender little ass of yours, what’s your secret?” i’ll tell you. don’t cook your fish! that’s right, go down to the market, buy some fillets of fishes you’ve never heard of, can’t pronounce, and certainly can’t remember, and then try to teach yourself how to make ceviche.

well my friends in san blas from mexico city made ceviche and that didn’t make me sick, so it should be easy right? well yes, it was easy. and delicious. i soaked the fish in lime overnight and served it in a cup, topped with pico de gallo.

maybe it was the pico? well maybe it was the pizza i bought from a street vendor the next day. that tasted pretty bad.

the day before i got sick was jan. 6, which is like mexican kwanzaa. they eat that king bread like in new orleans and it has little dolls in it just like in new orleans. i don’t know what the NO tradition is but they said if you find the doll in mexico you have to throw everyone a party on feb. 11.

that same day a street clown pulled me into his performance because he knew i didn’t speak a word of spanish. the routine was mostly made up of making men and women do some kind of elaborate performance, then making fun of us. in a half hour, all i understood was “felipe, you wear little skirts, right? like a girl?”

on second thought, that was lame.

oh, but the reason we were there is a dutch girl got taken prisoner by a cabbie! she’s staying at the hostel and taking classes and was on her way back from school in a cab when the driver demanded her laptop and all her money and drove her two hours towards puerto vallarta! i’d stopped in at the hostel to have some lunch (fish) when she walked in, hands shaking. she said he stopped for gas and left his keys in the car, and she grabbed the keys and threw them down a ravine! somehow she found another cab and paid 700 pesos to get back to town. $70 US is a lot better than a laptop. so i took her out for ice cream and that’s when the clown attacked.

as soon as i feel healthy i’m planning to hit up guanajuato, an old mining town where all the roads are in underground tunnels. cool, right?

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sand blast

January 2nd, 2007

now that that’s out of the way, here’s what’s going on. mazatlan seemed alright. lots of mexican tourists and an expensive american zone with all the restaurants we love from home like…dominos. you could walk down revolucion in tijuana or through the zona dorado in mazatlan and you’ll see the same thing: enormous dominos signs towering over the handwritten menus on taqueria shacks, garish glossy plastic decked out in red, white, and blue. this is the worst pizza on the planet and we all know it but after three days of not speaking english you’ll see it and at that moment you’ll know this is the real american embassy.

actually mcdonalds is probably a better example but i love my double cheeseburgers.

it was a lonely couple days though in mazatlan. i was on the malecon, an enormous boardwalk with an amazing panoramic view, and a woman asked me how far it was to the mcdonalds. i hadn’t heard a native english speaker’s voice in three or four days and i pulled out my guidebook with its sad little map and charted out exactly how far it was to the mcdonalds and how long it would take her and sincerely wished her a good lunch and a fun vacation.

was it then that i knew it was time to leave? lonely is one thing, but lonely on new years eve sounded awful, so i took a risk and went to san blas because i knew there were a couple hotels there with at least a communal kitchen, and i didn’t make reservations because i’ve had no problems so far, and i got up early and took the five hour bus ride to tepic and…jesus, that was beautiful…i’m in the jungle now and everywhere you look it’s mountains one way and sea the other and jungle all around…and a woman and her little boy at the tepic station saved my ass in a big way and i got to san blas with no trouble, five in the evening, standing in the small town zocalo armed with a pocket full of hotel recommendations.

the first place was full. the second place, right across the street, also full. that’s it for my guidebook. i bounced around town for an hour and a half checking seven hotels before i found a posada with a tiny, sort of smelly cinder block room and it was…perfect…because jesus at least i can put my pack down.

and as luck would have it i made friends the next day with two guys on break from school in mexico city and a wacked out beach bum from so cal. carlos and mario, if i didn’t tell you already, you saved my new years.

we did a whole lot of nothing on the beach. i got to speak my primitive spanish all day. i got so confident that when carlos told me about the rufino tamayo museum i tried to explain what it is about staring at a tamayo that makes me excited for the future of modern art. writing it now i realize i should probably try to form the words in english first…

but they cooked a three course seafood dinner like nothing i’ve ever seen and we partied in the square all night long and it was good, really really good.

those guys left and the mexican tourist season is basically over so there aren’t any tourists left but me and steve whose mind is almost completely gone and the surfers down on the beach. the jejenes and the mosquitoes are biting and so is the travel bug, and after i do some surfing tomorrow and eat some of this menudo i’ve been hearing about, i’ll say goodbye to the beach for a few weeks and get on the bus to guadalajara and the mountains of central mexico.

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myspace

January 2nd, 2007

look who found a computer! can i finish this in 20 minutes?

first, i got on myspace, here’s my profile, so we can stop flirting now and be internet friends.
i’m on facebook too: face.

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mazatlan

December 29th, 2006

hi, merry christmas! i hope yours was nice and you ate enough and got lots of presents. i spent mine in san diego on pacific beach. only intended to stay there two or three days but the hostel was full of people and there wasn’t going to be another decent place to spend christmas for…well i don’t know i’ve traveled a thousand miles or so since then and i’m glad i stayed.

my new austrian-bowling green friends shared a stocking with me, and the danes were next to us with a stocking made from a pair of long underwear they had left over from vancouver. the best present i got was a brazilian surfing lesson. the worst present was a piece of brazilian wax under my toenail. sneaky brazilian wax.

every sunset there was so good my heart would palpitate and i’d shout out what color everything was.

then we all left. i was shaking when we said goodbye on the bus. suddenly i didn’t want to be traveling alone.

i crossed the border at tijuana.

i slept in the hotel perla del oriente.

i bought a tourist card and a bus ticket to mazatlan.

the sunset in the sierra madres outside mexicali was as spectacular as on pacific beach, spilling out across a martian landscape, illuminating clusters of shacks here and there, only two miles from the border but so foreign i couldn’t imagine the two sights were being created by the same sun at exactly the same time. i said “pretty” to the woman sitting next to me and she nodded.

one long night, four dubbed american movies, strange mexican bus adventures, an uneventful day, a bewildering introduction to mazatlan and here i am.

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starts

December 18th, 2006

One night I decided to backpack through Latin America. So on November 17 I quit my job. And on November 30 I moved out of my apartment and put my things in a 5×10 foot storage unit. My going away party was two days later (Ann took those pictures. Thanks Ann). That was about two weeks ago. For most of you, that’s the last you heard from me.

So I’m writing a blog, energized by the enthusiasm you’ve shown in keeping tabs on me while I’m away. I’m more excited about the coming year than I’ve ever been about anything, and I hope a little of that comes across, and I hope you get excited too and I hope you write and yes I hope you take the time to fly out and spend a week with me on the beach surfing in Manzanillo or hiking through the cloud forests in Costa Rica or Buenos Aires – whatever it is we’ll be doing in Buenos Aires, the reality is you won’t regret doing it for a second.

Ok sorry, I get overly enthusiastic about encouraging you to travel. Here, let’s get you up to speed on the last two weeks.

When you left me at the going away party I was staying on Andy and Farah’s couch, not sure when I was going to leave. You may have even seen me haunting Seattle for the week that followed. My last order of business was to store my car, which I did on Friday. Betsy, if you read this, yes, I was lying about having already stored my car. You probably already knew I was lying because we came to the restaurant in my car and you could see it in the parking lot from our table. I’m sorry. If it’s any consolation that was the weirdest lie I’ve ever told.

Any way now my car is in a lot in Seatac by the airport. Tom owns the lot, along with the car wash next door, and he runs a real estate business too. We signed the papers – little more than a check and a handshake – in the espresso stand that doubles as Tom’s Seatac office. Friday’s special is a free donut with your coffee. I haven’t tried the coffee so I can’t vouch for it, but your dollar couldn’t be going to a more hard working guy. After helping me tie down the car cover Tom gave me a ride back to Seattle and told me about his own adventures as a Navy man in 1970, celebrating the end of his tour in Japan by taking his young wife across Asia on the Trans-Siberian Railway, on through Europe, ending in Italy before finally flying home to Ohio.

Thanks to the ride I was able to catch the 6:00 Greyhound to San Francisco. That’s a 19-hour bus ride. Are you going to San Francisco? Fly there. If I’d booked a flight a week in advance, the ticket would have been as cheap as the bus. Oh well, it was a new experience, and the timing couldn’t have been better. We arrived in SF at 1:00 on Saturday. Matt drove up from Santa Cruz to pick me up, and he would wake me up at 9am the following Saturday and drive me to Oakland to catch a flight.

I’m not ready to talk about that week yet, if you don’t mind. If you were there, you know (and if you have pictures, please send them to me, my camera just came in the mail). To San Francisco and you guys there…wow, I just spent an hour trying to finish that sentence. You know, right? I’ll be back.

Right now I’m in LA staying with my very good friend Jessica. This is the end of the couch surfing, because tomorrow morning I’m taking the train to San Diego and checking into a hostel. I have pictures from LA but I haven’t figured out my camera and I’m going to bed.

your friend,
phil

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