Back to Oaxaca.
I checked out around 8 this morning, after a decent night’s sleep. It was less hot overnight, which is probably why, and I even turned off the fan overnight, which allowed me to clearly hear the sound of the waves crashing, an ever present background sound in Mazunte. From my room, it sounds as though the waves are right outside the window.
tivo, covered, but open, pickup trucks with benches and standing room that serve as inexpensive local transport that carries maybe 10 people, or more if they pack people in, or have people hanging off of it. The collectivo cost 20 pesos, about $1, and took us to the neighboring town of Pochutla, about 35 minutes away, where there is a Linea Unitas bus station, from where I got my ticket back to Oaxaca. $18.
I enjoyed the ride to Pochutla, seeing the local roads and feeling the wind in my face. I’m sorry I didn’t get to take any photos of Pochutla, but we were walking too fast, heading to the bus station. We had no idea what time the bus was leaving, but by good luck it was leaving within minutes, and, like the bus station itself, the bus was pretty empty, and happily I got the front seat, next to the driver. I not only got the seat with the best view, but also with a seat belt. At least I won’t get thrown out if there’s an accident.
I’m really sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye to Maisie, and also Tilly and Jules, but they were sound asleep when we left. I just sent a text to Maisie, though. We have a special vasovagal bond now. 😊
Saying goodbye to Anna and Lance was sad, as goodbyes always are. I enjoyed their company and their generosity and hospitality.
I’m looking forward to the journey back, where I’ll be able to really see the scenery and the mountains, and also this new road through the mountain be that we traveled on on the way here. In fact, I’m writing this while on the bus, so this is coming to you live, so to speak. More later…
The drive back was great. I had the best seat on the bus. We passed along the local roads, heading toward the Sierra Madre range, known as Sierra Madre de Oaxaca, or Sierra Madre Sur (Sierra Madre Nord is, unsurprisingly, north of the city), and we entered the new road, which is still partly under construction, and sometimes clearing rock slides, passing through the toll gates and moving to higher elevations, reaching I think as as high as 9 or 10,000 feet, with magnificent views of the dense and endless forests and mountains, and sometimes villages off in the near distance. I took many photos, but through the front and side window so not sure how they’ll look.
The whole time, the driver showed movies to the passengers, and the first was a war movie so our background was quite literally endless shooting, rocket fire, yelling, and screams of anguish. That was followed by a western, with endless shooting and yelling (but no rocket fire). On my way to Mazunte, by contrast, the driver played Mexican music the entire ride. That would have been my choice this time, also.
Our driver also liked to eat, stopping several times for some candy, chips, and a sandwich, including at roadwork traffic stops.
The journey was about 4½ hours again, but this was because of the sometimes lengthy stops for construction along highway 175 through the mountain, which added perhaps an hour or more. Again, prior to the construction of 175, this trip took 7-9 hours, and Anna said when she first started coming here 30 some years ago, there were no roads at all, not even dirt roads, leading to Mazunte, to which you had walk from local towns.
I felt quite at home returning to Oaxaca, with its belching, busy, noisy, and pedestrian dangerous Lineas Unidas bus station, and the equally busy, bustling, noisy, and often crammed streets, full of life and street vendors. It was hot, but nowhere near as hot as Mazunte, in the mid-80s. It is classic, filled with noises, and sometimes music. I love it.
I do feel seriously limited by my lack of language. Even when I can manage some phrases, I don’t understand what is said in reply. How did I travel abroad so much in my (much) younger days without speaking or understanding the local languages? Luckily, there is a great (and free) google translation app that works very well. It talks also, making it even better.
By now, I knew the way to Rachel’s, so needed no map, and I enjoyed the walk, back though the Zócalo, past the central cathedral, and past Santa Domingo church, where we saw the wedding the other day. It was great to see Rachel again, and soon after Jane and Carla showed up, friends from my neck of the woods, who are here for a little about 9-10 days. It was Rachel’s birthday yesterday, and Jane’s today.
Jane and Carla are staying in the apartment below Rachel, just by luck as the couple renting that apartment are away for a few days. Jane and Carla had been on a day trip to a spot outside of the city, sponsored by the Oaxaca lending library, which is a great resource and puts on a lot of events, including day trips, walks around town, and so on. It’s always good to see Jane, and it will be good getting to know Carla, who I’ve met before a couple of times, but don’t really know at all well. She knew Bev, although not too well, as she was a physical therapist for Amherst schools, and so met Bev a few times at work, and also met Bev and I previously at a couple of Amy and Pat parties.
We spent time up on the roof, and later headed to a local eatery, La Popular. Jane treated us to dinner, as her birthday gift… although it should really have been the other way round. Although I had previously tasted mole (pronounced molé), on the tamales I ate with Rachel the other day, I found the mole that Carla had a little too bitter, and Rachel said it wasn’t particularly good mole. Still, it made me cautious about getting a mole dish.
We headed back, hung a while, and to bed