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Published: June 30th 2017
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I don't know the first thing about parenting, but I can only imagine that years of dirty diapers, sleepless nights and spilled Cheerios can't begin to compare to the burden of having to explain to your child why all the other kids still have mommies, and why his had to die so early in her life. I recently lost a very old and dear friend who left her son here on earth, along with many other confused and sad people who loved her. Receiving news like this from thousands of miles away seems more difficult. The positive side is that the tragedy truly does bind us together. Through this horrible event, I have reconnected with some people with whom I may not have otherwise. Momma always told me to focus on the positive, despite how challenging this can be in trying times. I raise a glass for one of the most wonderful people I've ever known.
I've been spoiling myself with hotels recently on some nights. Even in an area where much of the accommodation is relatively cheap, it's easy to nickel-and-dime yourself to death with the little things. I've had some very long and stressful driving days, so I've
been bouncing between passing out exhausted in the car and finding $20-ish hotels, hopefully with agua caliente. I made my way south from Oaxaca City to Huatulco, an expensive touristy area on the south coast. I saw the ocean for the first time in months; it was like seeing an old lover. I spent almost an entire day trying to diagnose and repair car problems again. I was lucky enough to meet a very knowledgeable mecahnic who helped me buy and replace the spark plugs and their cables, as well as run some sealer fluid through my radiator. So far, Old Mae hasn't overheated again. His pit bull bit me in the face, but I can look past that because this automobile that I call my domicile is functioning perfectly. Perfectly by my standards, which are low and based solely in necessity.
I continued west along the coast to Playa Zipolite, a little surf town with expats and weed everywhere, where I vastly overestimated my ability to surf and almost drowned myself. I mean that very literally. I was hyperventilating for about twenty minutes afterward because I was in shock. Then the drive up the Costa Michoacana was literally
breathtaking; the ocean can move even the strongest, most badass dude (me, obviously) to tears. Upon seeing her majesty and opulence from the cliffs, with some recent emotional and spiritual quandaries including the death of my friend, I lost my shit a little. I cried with her and sat on the cliff and played love songs on the guitar, only for my friend in heaven and for the sea. I don't usually get that sappy, but it kinda had to happen.
I also picked up three cute European girls at the hostel in Puerto Escondido and gave them a ride to a place along the coast that was on my way. We had a little rum and dancing party for a couple hours, then parted ways. Da chido.
My most recent destination was Puerto Vallarta (and surrounding towns) where I have now spent several days with some good friends. It's very refreshing to see familiar faces, one of which I've known for 16 years. Said face is attached to a body and brain which come down here every year to work on set production for a TV series. They put him up in an hotel that is far
more luxurious than anything I've experienced, like a fortress from Indiana Jones, Mayan statues and all. There's even a smoothie bar, like the one Indie went to before retrieving the treasure. Or whatever. My friend was kind enough to help me and our other two friends sneak in to share his hotel room. We got free food 24/7, comfortable beds, a bubble bath and basically every amenity you can think of. It only takes about 20 min to walk from the room to the car. Here we are now in Sayulita, another tranquilo Pacific surf town near Vallarta, where most things are acceptable. Like sitting outisde your tent on the beach, smoking weed and writing about your life at 5:30 am. Do whatever, just don't be a dick. That seems to be the consensus on acceptable behaviour in these places.
There exists a spectrum with travelers and their versatility and fastidiousness. On one end you have people who are easy-going, up for any spontaneous adventure, non-demanding and usually pretty content. They'll contribute, they'll engage in conversation about anything on this big blue globe, and be an enthusiastic and active part of any travel party. On the other, you have
people who can't rest easy unless they know they'll have a hot shower at night. They spend a majority of their time worried about fulfilling the first world needs that they ostensibly are trying to escape. They can be completely self-absorbed and have little regard for other people traveling with them, basically no sense of gratitude or compromise, and they seem to prefer playing on their phone instead of having any semblance of an authentic experience. I prefer the people closer to the first end of this spectrum. Such a variety of colors people can wear.
Currently, I'd rather be sat on the beach waiting for the sunrise, writing and talking to random stragglers than sitting in some hotel. The temperature is perfect. My sleep schedule is about as irregular as it could be. I just take a series of naps here and there, rather than obey a normal circadian rhythm. But it works. I'm still breathing.
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Matias
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The guy you met @ hostal san pancho
Hey man. I hope you got to monkey mountain, just today a saw a picture of a friend on top of it! Let's keep in touch, my facebook is Matías Álvarez. Alex's mail is alexgomezal98@gmail.com