I continued
south along the Californian coast keen to catch up with friends from home, in
San Clemente. I spent about a week immersed
in the life of Californian pro surfers, shapers, artists, and photographers
where the thought of success never seemed doubted. Talent seemed installed at a young age. The waves where small, but in perfect
shape. The company of those familiar
faces was refreshing. The ridiculous
eight-lane highway made it a place I would never want to live. I intended to stay longer but I missed the
heat and with Mexico so close, it was time to move on. The airport terminal was happily all I would
see of Los Angeles. Stew kindly drove me
through that horrible traffic to set me off on what had finally arrived, my
Central American adventures. I stood in
the air-conditioned terminal on that hard nylon white flooring tapping my
unresponsive watch, wondering what the time was. Little did I know, at that stage time would
now be irrelevant.
I had heard
many good things about Mexico but I had little idea on where I would go. One of the surfers I met in California was
from Sayulita, so that’s where I started.
Flying over the country was a view of mountainous terrain, stunningly
covered in a dense lush tropical jungle.
Mexico was a hit of colour, flavour and heat. Exactly what I was searching for! After checking out Sayulita and its surrounds
the surf went flat and I was soon craving to find some decent swell. With waves on my mind I hopped through
Mexico City straight to Puerto Escondido where solid barreling waves were to
the other extreme, but I couldn’t complain.
Pacific Buddha
hostel in La Punta would be my home until I could drag myself away from its
paradise bubble. It had been around
3months of travelling on my own, meeting up with friends here and there and
travellers briefly in passing. It was
Pacific Buddha and its owners Ange and Tyler that made the perfect abode where
other travellers alike, mostly solo voyagers, couldn’t help but park up for a
long stay. It was a small hostel at the
quiet end of the long stretch of white beach.
The days easily slipped by with activities or by doing not much at
all. The mornings spent surfing or doing
yoga. The middle of the day was
ridiculously hot so it was mostly water activities or minimal movement in the
shade. Each day when it was that time
for the sun to sink into the horizon behind the Pacific abyss, everyone would
venture over the warm sand heated from the days sun to watch this simple
beauty. It was my favorite time of day
where I got the name of being a Mermaid, body surfing and playing amongst the
waves. Id float embraced by the ocean,
taking in the view of the curved sky as the flamed light faded. The nights were then filled with good yarns,
communal cook ups, group dinning outs, live salsa nights, and swimming in a
warm phosphorescence lake where every move was trailed by sparkling light. One night we were even lucky enough to
witness a meteor shower. We lay in the
soft sand under the dark sky. Every few
seconds a trail of shooting stars would catch our eye. I become very ill for a short time but unlike
my time in Morocco, I had what felt like an adopted family to ease the burden. I laughed frequently, realizing this was the
main thing missing travelling alone and that made me smile more. I had
happily isolated myself, as I’m not one to travel with people just for the sake
of company. But good company had come
along, so I decided to travel on with them continuing to laugh. It was
hard to leave this happy bubble and we doubted if we’d find somewhere as nice
but there was so much more to see. As we
packed the taxi to leave, it was like the sky began to cry with the first sign
of rain in months.
Next stop was San
Cristobal, a small, colourful colonial city where I could get a decent coffee
fix. It’s the small places that capture
my heart though and El Pachan in the Palenque Jungle came very close to my La
Punta favorite. Here the days also
drifted by. Angus and I stayed for 10days when most have come and gone in
two. With a simple grass roof cabana and
verandha surrounded by gingers and a flowing stream, howler monkeys sounded in
the distance, a faery like waterfall in walking distance, and the option of
only two restaurants where it didn’t take long to feel like a local. Things were pretty bliss. Christmas day was spent here. Part of the day I spent sitting at the base
of the falls feeling the energy of the jungle wash over me. Then like any other xmas day it revolved
around food and good company, always a good day with a three crepe day!
When I left
home I thought I just wanted to travel.
The more I travel, the more I realize what was missing. Each place has had a different purpose. Europe was a time for myself, to visit faery places
I missed, to refresh good memories and to visit old friends. America was a place to connect with nature
and continue a faery journey. Mexico was
a new culture, surf and of course Oaxaca turned out to have a deep faery history. Though, all have had an underlying common
spark, apart from faeries. It may sounds
a little cliché but I’ve found myself on a spiritual journey and it’s been refreshingly
beautiful. That’s why it seemed fitting
to do a traditional Mexican soul cleanse in the jungle, called a Temezcal. This involved connecting with the Sky, Earth,
Water, and Fire Gods using a yurt type structure that would be pitch
black. In the centre would be fire
heated volcanic rocks, steamed to create a sauna effect. It was performed in a clearing of the jungle
just after sunset, when the fireflies would come to life. With each stage we gave thanks. The Sky we connected with North, East, South
and West. The Earth was our
grounding. The Water was our femininity. Fire connected with masculinity. As a group, we sat in a circle around the
yurt centre, sweat soaking our bodies.
With each stage more rocks were added and the heat grew nearly
unbearable. The drumming and chants
echoed louder and the energies flourished.
Feeling my increased strength I couldn’t help but sway to the rhythm. A smile settled on my face, uncontrollably
stretched from ear to ear, invisible to anyone else in the dark. I felt like every part of my insides was
smiling too. In that moment, I felt a
strength and happiness that consumed me entirely. Little did I know, Angus had felt like he’d
been through an exorcism and was lying limp and exhausted on the ground. We all emerged from the tent, sweaty bodies
embracing one another for the shared energies.
I couldn’t help but stare at the sky above the jungle clearing knowing
its true what they say. The universe
will provide.
It was time to
move on from Palenque and with the festive season everything was booking
out. I wanted to head east and see the
turquoise waters of Lake Bacalar, and feel the salt of the Caribbean
coast. I wasn’t ready to leave Mexico
but I also didn’t want to be swarmed by partying American tourists and feel the
worst of the holiday inflation. The Christmas
and New Year break is by far the worst time to travel and with that, it made
sense to skip into Guatemala. Since I’ve left, I realize it’s hard to beat
Mexico in Central America. Sure, like
other Central American countries, efficiency is not a priority but they work
long hours. It seemed like work and
lifestyle could easily co-exist as they blended at their own pace. Random speed bumps that protruded from the
roads seemed more dangerous than safe, but the transport systems were excellent
and made exploring the countries vast landscape possible in whatever direction
you choose. Its wise to avoid some areas
but I felt safe and the locals were always up for a chat. Mexico has a lot to offer. It is a place rich in art and history, of beautiful
rhythm and people. Any place where shirt
and shoes are optional, where there is that infectious salsa beat, and the guys
can dance, that’s a place I want to be. Yes,
its wealthier neighbour has an influence, but a culture so rich and vibrant
could never die out, and should never die out.
