“What if she doesn't like this place?”, “What if she doesn't want to sleep on a couch?”, “Where should we take her to eat?” I ask Pete all these questions almost simultaneously with a flurry of nervous energy behind them. He looks at me with an exasperated, furrowed brow and replies, “Natasha, It's Lindsey”
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Natasha
We usually prefer to be camped in the mountains, next to a river, or on a beach far from crowds. However, every once in a while we crave a little "civilization". Our new friends Vince and Lucy both live in Quetzaltenengo (commonly known as Xela), and said it was worth a visit.
On our trip to Asia we experienced four different languages, all of which are vastly different from western languages. One syllable can mean three to five different things depending on whether you say it with a rising, falling, or neutral tone. We did our best to learn how to say hello, goodbye, thank you, and beer, and how to count to ten in every language. We managed to get by with this and plenty of sign language, but we definitely weren't having many in depth conversations. So one of the things we were most excited about on this trip was learning Spanish.
We took it as a good sign that after another beautiful drive through the mountains of northern Guatemala a rainbow seemed to end directly over our destination, the town of Todos Santos Cuchutman.
Sometimes it feels as if we're letting our guidebook and the iOverlander app dictate our trip. They're both incredibly handy but they often seem to lead down an invisible predestined trail, so well trodden by the travelers before us that its deep indentations in the earth prevent us from veering off.
Oso, with his wavy blond hair and piercing brown eyes, is quite the handsome bloke. He spend's half his time with his front paws in our laps, and the other half whimpering over his unrequited love for Malta. This charming pup is one of the reasons that we stay longer than planned at this camp spot
“Well....shit just got real”, is the thought that goes through my head as Pete, Karin and the family we've rented this cabin from begin to board up the windows. Two days ago, along with our friends Sunny and Karin, we were whiling our days away on a beach with not a worry in the world, when we start hearing reports of a tropical storm headed towards the Belizean coast.
Pastel toned houses on long, lanky stilts......clear blue water....the creole language heard around every corner....tasty, cut-rate lobster....superb snorkeling and diving....narrow, golf cart traveled streets made of sand....and fruity rum drinks all day, everyday, make the tiny island off the coast of Belize seem about as “Caribbean” as it can get.
Damnable borders crossings, this whole driving through Central and South America thing would be way easier if we didn't have to deal with the bureaucracy , but without an illegal stealthy entrance on a tiny dirt road or forging a river there's no way getting around them. At least this time we'll have company.
The Yucatan Peninsula and its pristine, post-card-ready Caribbean beaches are the reason we extended our stay in Mexico. Shortly after we arrive our enthusiasm fades. The camping options are expensive, which we expected, but no one seems to want us. We, along with our friends, are turned away from several spots for various reasons, so the last three weeks are spent away from our camper in an apartment; time we thoroughly enjoyed, but not what we wanted our stop here to solely consist of.
The hardest thing about this trip is being away from my family, particularly my parents. It's quite the change from my nomadic, egomaniacal twenty-year-old self that wanted nothing more than to be far away from home. I would wander for long spells only thinking to call them every couple months and gracing them with my highly annoying “I'm more worldly than you” presence once a year.
Since reading about the Mexican state of Chiapas, known for its natural beauty, I've been daydreaming about its landscapes being swathed in the blues and greens of its numerous waterfalls and lush jungles. Unfortunately because of our lengthy border crossing debacle we have less than two weeks to explore the entire region before family come to visit us in the Yucatan.
Our seemingly insatiable search for calm, warm blue water and talcum powder sand is over. We've surprisingly found it at Playa San Augustin on the Oaxacan coast. A coast we almost skipped because, from what we'd researched, the water was more suitable for experienced surfers than beer clutching, lackadaisical swimmers.
It's obvious we have arrived at Teotitlan de Valle. Displayed rugs hang from almost every house and store front; their once vivid colors muted by long days exposed to the sun. We've come to this famous weaving village to replace the rugs in our camper.
Driving north the landscape changes drastically, trees and mountains increasing in size as we gain altitude and head towards the mountain town Tapalpa. Without knowledge of any spots in town we chose to camp a short drive away at ….....which turned out to be the home of a paragliding school,
After our failed attempt at finding the perfect swimming beach we pack up and head east to try our luck at La Manzanilla, a small town on the other side of the Bay of Tenicatita.
While in San Pancho, we heard an enchanting tale about a protected bay with placid, translucent water where the snorkeling was excellent and one could most certainly catch their dinner if they could figure out the mysteries of the Hawaiian Sling. Being on a never ending search for the perfect beach, we were intrigued.
With feet outstretched on the sidewalk, we lazily drink our morning coffee, sitting on what has recently become our front porch, the town square curb . Directly behind us are the public bathrooms we've partially commandeered and down the street, at a fishmonger's house, is where we pay ten pesos to use his outdoor shower.
Chris and Jenn have suggested we do a car tour of Mazatlan. Usually Pete and I steer away from anything with the word tour in it because, in our minimal experience, they're pricey, occasionally fabricated and frankly... they seem a little to touristy. Since Pete was temporarily indisposed and most likely wanted to be left alone; I decided to go with everyone.
We've been driving around southern Baja trying to figure out where to stay when the parts for our truck finally come in. We've checked out quite a few beaches, the mountains, and several cities and towns. We even considered renting a house or apartment, but realized it wasn't quite in the budget.