Puerto Escondido. Grandpa, Angela, and Augustus were the first ones down to the beach. Edwin, Elena, and I came next. Grandpa was enjoying the shade under the thatch. We walked down the rough cement switchbacked road to the short beach. No one in sight. There was more beach to the west, after a short rocky passage. We enjoyed watching the waves breaking on the beach and crashing on the rocks. We walked a ways. When we finally turned back, there were all the missing children. So we played there awhile. Virginia climbed the biggest rock and sat staring at the sea. She did shriek at all the crabs. Caleb and Augustus ran down to the water’s edge, scooped up pebbles, then ran up laughing when the wave came. Elena found tiny hermit crabs.
When we entered the big, square market we were apparently the first potential breakfast customers of the morning. From each of the precisely identical sized comedors emerged the waters. As we passed by each stall, each waiter eagerly presented the menu, but as we passed the dividing pillar each retreated politely and absolutely, and did not encroach on his neighbor. Each diner had 2 long, narrow tables. We chose the one that had talavera tile, not floor tile or plastic tablecloth. Angela, Virginia, Elena, and Augustus had pan de muerto (dead people bread) and chocolate milk. Edwin had eggs, Caleb had quesadillas, and I had green suisa (Swiss) enchiladas – all very delicious. After chatting with the waiter, he brought Edwin a saucer of mole. It was indeed very rich – the best! Now I like mole. He brought up the subject of tomorrow’s dreaded election. Many people here are concerned about it, because of the close tie they perceive between the United States and Mexico. Our waiter had spent several years in Georgia. Edwin asked if they made the mole from scratch. He said that it’s made locally at the chocolate store on the corner. After receiving directions, we left, happy and full.
We’ve looked for a chocolate store this whole trip! He had whole cacao beans, shelled cacao (we bought a kilo), and several powdered and pressed formulas We bought 8 kilos of hot chocolate cakes.
Now we’re driving towards Acapulco. The Internet says there are over 300 topes on this road, so I’m counting. It’s certainly not any worse than other roads we’ve been on. They put topes in, rather than unenforceable speed limits in towns, particularly near schools. Enterprising venders stand at the topes to sell their wares to vehicles who are already braking. We were most surprised to see a mother and daughter on opposite sides of the highway who lifted a rope to stop cars at the tope. But this highway, though it has topes, doesn’t have street venders for some reason. Crops must not be in season.
We come to a police check point. No policeman is looking at us, so Edwin drives right through the “complete stop” sign.
- Naomi
In this one tiny town there were a lot of little carriage taxis. They were cute. As we keep traveling the signs for Acapulco keep changing. First it was 310, then 311, then 360! Where are we?! We are now in Guerrero. Yay! We can now add it to the list.
- Virginia
We are almost to Acapulco. There were 214 topes.
- Elena
We saw the ocean. We danced with a bus.
- Augustus
Acapulco was pretty fun. We went to one beach in the evening that had a lot of big waves. But everyone tells us not to swim in the open ocean. I found the jumping jellyfish – little clear worm things that bounce around on the sand. Elena found some turtle-looking insects that lived under the sand.
- Angela
Our hotel overlooks the ocean in a lovely world with lush trees: coconut, banana, orange and countless others. Coconuts fall from the trees and lay there until the garbage collector takes them off. It is a tropical paradise. We are about 10 stories above a white beach in a little cove surrounded by red rock outcroppings along the shore and out in the water. The ocean is blue with a refreshing breeze and long gentle waves. No mosquitoes or any bothersome insect. Of course, Edwin went walking in the sand and was breakfast for something but whatever it was stayed on the beach where the food was younger.
In this intoxicating paradise the Hotel was exactly stereotypical Mexican, intoxicated. The design may have been OK in 1950 but it was poorly constructed, and even more poorly maintained. Even I would have renovated it completely if it were mine. In a word, it stunk, literally and figuratively stunk. But it was exactly what tourists expect and tolerate and go home telling their friends Mexico is like when in practice, I doubt if a Mexican would spend the night in a place like that. It is surprising and shocking that such sloth can be found in such wealth.
Going north to Acapulco we passed several military check points. Edwin soon learned how to do it. They were always detours a few feet off the road with terrible potholes that demanded slowing to 5 mph, so in one Edwin just kept going at full speed (5 mph) despite the sign saying ‘come to a complete stop’ (Alto Total). After we got through Naomi turned to me and asked “Does it make you nervous to blow right through a complete stop with 10 men standing around with machine guns?” We just laughed, one of the soldiers had waved as we went past. The scenery was outstanding as we saw plantations of coconut, orange, papaya, avocados, mango and others unknown. We had 2 coconuts we had picked up and shucked which provided employment for the kids as they dug the meat out along the trip. It seemed a short 250 miles.
We got to Acapulco about an hour before sundown, enough time to walk the beach and get wet. Edwin found a fellow who worked in the entertainment business who recommended a hotel where we stayed, he had been a wet in Albuquerque for 15 years. After a pizza dinner at Costco we settled in for the night. That former wet, as well as three other Mexican citizens had raised the question of who was going to win the election. They were all concerned that ‘El Moreno’ (the darkie) will destroy our economy and they know that if the US sneezes, Mexico gets pneumonia.
- Grandpa
We stayed in the cruddiest motel of our journey. One room – a bed and a bunk. One bathroom, whose walls did not reach the ceiling, and whose “door” was only a curtain. One small window – high in the wall. Forget hot water – we were happy when there was water. Apparently it’s turned off unless one specifically requests it. One mangy dog. He sidled up to the school girl who lives here, and she gave him a swift kick, so he slunk away.
- Naomi
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