Home again, jiggity jig.

So, we're back stateside. I can't speak for Jake, but I feel bewildered, wandering familiar streets that now seem like another planet.

Our last day in Tepoztlan was lovely. We hiked the 2.5km up to the pyramid, huffing and puffing on the 45 degree incline and stepping nimbly over shallow stone steps before finally arriving at the summit. The pyramid is tiny compared to the grandeur of Monte Alban, but we were rewarded with a view of the town below and a gloriously cool breeze. After our hike, we returned to the valley floor and spent our afternoon wandering the market for trinkets to take back home. Tepoztlan is relatively quiet throughout the week, but on the weekends, the city is flooded with Mexico City residents that come to escape the hubbub of the metropolis. We walked to the small zocalo in the center of town and were treated to an evening concert and an entertaining display of dancing and singing from the crowd. Having eaten mostly streetfood and small meals during the entire trip, we decided to splurge on dinner and made our way to La Luna Mexli, a bourgeois fine-dining restaurant just down the street from the zocalo. Jake treated us to an incredible meal and we spent the better part of two hours just recounting our trip, lamenting the end, and enjoying the mild and breezy evening. I had a spinach salad with smoked trout - some of the best trout I've ever, ever had - and Jake tucked in to a huge iron skillet piled high with skirt steak, chorizo, and grilled veggies. Stuffed and content, we headed back to the Hospedaje Mahe, and set our alarm clocks for 7AM the next day. Earlier in the afternoon, we had befriended an older guy who splits his time between California and Mexico each year as a strawberry salesman. Oscar is a character, and spent the better part of 45 minutes telling us all about his strawberry variety and how it was going to change the way berry farming is done in Mexico. As a reward for our attentiveness, Oscar offered to drive us into Mexico City the following day, saving us hours of bus time and a good bit of money. At 7:30AM the next day, bags packed and lips pouting, we piled into Oscar's car and drove to DF, to catch our flight home. The flight itself was relatively painless, and we got back to Charlotte at about 6:30pm, slightly culture shocked and most certainly delighted with our sixteen day adventure. Thank you to all of you for keeping in touch, and we're so glad you could share the trip with us, via blog!

Love to all and buena honda.

-Suz & Jake

Hout Doug

i. am. exhausted. Rather, we. are. exhausted. Jake and I spent the last day? Day and a half? Traveling from Zipolite to Tepotzlan. We caught a collectivo out of Zipolite after saying our goodbyes to the many folks there who have been so good to us for the past week. Via collectivo, we arrived in Pochutla about forty minutes later, sweating furiously with our packs under a relentless sun. After snacks and booking our tickets to DF, or Mexico City, we caught our bus for a thirteen-hour-long journey back to the heart of the country. We left at 7pm and arrived in DF at 8AM the next day, after very little sleep and not much to eat. From DF, this morning, we caught another bus to Tepotzlan, which lies 80km from Mexico City, about two hours' drive. Dazed but relieved to be in the beautiful mountain town of Tepotzlan, we found a gorgeous (and somewhat more expensive) room at a hotel just two blocks from the zócalo. Tepotzlan is built on hills that would put San Francisco to shame, but the cathedral in the center of town is beautiful, and we´re excited to explore more beyond the markets and street vendors that line the cobblestone roads. Tomorrow we're making the trek up to the pyramid, for which Tepotzlan is famous, and we'll do our best to cram in as much sightseeing as we possibly can in our last two days. We're sad to leave, and somewhat astounded that the trip is ending already, but we've had a fantastic time and there are many more stories to relay once we arrive back stateside. Love to you all, and buena honda!

-Suz

So Zipolite was pretty awesome (to use local surfing vernacular) It was good for me to just relax, slow my pace and not worry about where my bag/wallet/passport/camera/travel companion was at all times. I spent an inordinate amount of time with my back against a hammock and my nose in a book. There is something about the beach that just begs for a stack of libros and a mojito. While leaving new friends was difficult, I was ready to move on. Evidently Quetzalqotal (i know its spelled incorrectly but dont have the energy to look it up) was born right here in tepotzlan. Im pretty psyched about trekking up to the pyramid tomorrow. To give an idea of what this town looks like, imagine the red rocks of sedona arizona covered in green. The state we are in, Morelos, is known as the state of Mexican spring (its a climate reference my intuition tells me!) Our hotel really is not expensive at all, but nor is it a fifteen dollar treehouse on the beach.
As far as last nite´s bus ride goes, Im thinking that mini sized suzy fits into the sleeper bus better than I do. It was a step up from a red eye in coach, but not much. Suffice to say i did not sleep too deeply. Seemingly unrelated but very pertinent, I have developed an intense hatred of both robin williams and the movie the producers, after having to suffer through both at top volume in the middle of the night while attempting to sleep. Earplugs. Need em!
But so anyways, soforth, so on, etc, We are quite pleased to be checkin things out round these parts and despite our drooping eyes and not so bushy tails we will be making the rounds and seeing all that ´tzlan has to offer.

hasta

jake

PS, this place is famous for UFO sightings..... FAR OUT DUUUDE! :)

Greetings, once more, from sunny and calm Zipolite! The last couple of days have been pretty eventful, so I figured it was time to check in with you guys once more. We had the pleasant experience two nights ago of spending the drowsy evening in the company of our hosts at Lo Cósmico, brothers Eduardo and Antonio. Eduardo had been to the market earlier in the day and had purchased a huge slab of deliciously fresh atún, or tuna. With a huge grin on his face, he pulled seaweed sheets, or nori, from his cupboard, along with a bag of sushi rice, sweet rice vinegar, freshly cut sticks of cucumber, a bamboo rolling mat, a bottle of soy sauce, and an electric green tube of wasabi. Clasping his hands together gleefully, he said, "We make sushi!". Eduardo had no idea how to cook the rice or roll the ingredients together, and my experience with at-home rolling is limited, but we managed to make six long tubes stuffed with fresh raw tuna, cucumber, sticky rice, and grated ginger. After cutting the rolls into enough pieces to feed the four of us, plus a Swiss couple and a solo female traveler from Holland, Eduardo and I laid the spread out on two huge plates, filled tiny cups with a mixture of ginger, soy sauce and wasabi, and placed apricot-colored hibiscus flowers next to the rolls. Presentation perfecto. We ate hungrily and after our bellies were full, chatted for another two hours, dipping in and out of Spanish and English to make sure we could all participate in the conversation. It was a wonderful evening, and most certainly one of those experiences that will linger in my memory for a long time to come.
The following morning we´d planned to visit Puerto Ángel, but our Swiss friends recommended instead a little place just north of here called Ventanilla. There, you can find freshwater lagoons set inland from the sea, and the highly touristy area offers guided trips to them for birdwatching, crocodile spotting, and clean swimming. We spotted a few horses under a lean-to, saddled up and ready to be ridden, and inquired about the price for a horseback tour. A smiling young woman told us it was thirty five pesos, or $3.50 US, for an hour-long tour. Hardly believing our luck, we made sure she was serious about the price, and saddled up. Our guide told us we could pay afterward, so we set off for our adventure along the beach. The lagoon was calm, and although we didn´t spot any crocodiles, we were treated to flocks of herons that alighted on the reeds and craned their long necks to root around for food in the water. Our guide was very nice, and we enjoyed ourselves immensely as the afternoon yawned on. Upon our arrival back at base camp, however, we dismounted and took out our money, ready to pay for a nice trip. A different man approached us, and as our guide stood silently by, demanded not 35, but 350 pesos from us. Incredulous, we struggled to be understood that the woman had told us beforehand that the tour was only 35 pesos. We looked to her for help, but she showed no sign of sympathy, and told the man that we were essentially trying to rob them. We had only 200 pesos on us, about twenty dollars, and argued with the man for upwards of 15 minutes. All the while, more men were gathering around us, so many that Jake and I stepped back and made a point of telling our challenger that we felt outnumbered and uncomfortable. We kept saying, we have ONLY 20 DOLLARS, and each time the man responded by shaking his head and saying no. The cost was 350 pesos per person. With no way out, we contemplated just walking away and trying our luck at being run out of Ventanilla, but in the end I just handed over the 200 note, said "screw it" and we left. Our accuser told us that if we "had any conscience", we´d return and pay the rest. To which I wanted to respond, "if you had an conscience, you wouldn't try to extort money from so-called stupid gringos." We left with a bad taste in our mouths, but after an hour of griping and clenching our fists at being had, we decided to chalk it up to a lesson learned, and appreciate the fact that we had a great tour for twenty bucks. After returning to Zipolite, we laid around and swam a bit, before cleaning up and heading out for homemade pizza. The main calle, street, is lazy and warmly lit once night falls, and we took our time with dinner, watching folks stroll the boulevard while street musicians strummed their guitars thoughtfully.
So far today, we´ve been hanging out at La Costa, our favorite little beachside spot, reading our books and alternating between ocean, sand, chair, and hammock. To you avid readers back home, the book I'm reading currently is really good. Three Cups of Tea, by Greg Mortenson, is a true story about a mountaineer´s quest to build schools for children, especially girls, in some of the most remote villages in Pakistan. Pick up a copy if you feel like it. I think it's worth it.
What else, what else? We have only one more night here in Zipolite, before we head back to Mexico City. From the City, we're planning to catch a bus to a little town about an hour and a half away, the so-called birthplace of Quetzalcoatl, so we can spend our last two days sightseeing a little more. More updates as things unfold..... Love to you all !

Ay dios mio! Where on earth do I start?
We made it to Zipolite a few days ago, after an agonizing and eventually laughable drive from Oaxaca to the coast.
We decided, after discussing prices with the owners of Hostel Mezkalito, to opt for the cheaper and quicker transportation to the beach. We rode in a van, along with six or seven other mexicanos, for seven hours on roads that were...somewhat sickening. The curves never stopped as we rounded bend after bend high in the mountains of Oaxaca state, holding on for dear life at some points when our driver barely tapped the brakes to skirt around a hairpin turn at around 45mph. Oy.
Exhausted and drowsy from the heat, we finally made it via collectivo to Zipolite. Our Lonely Planet guide had told us that we were in for a treat, and that we might find ourselves postponing departure from this particular stretch of sand for a while. The guide couldn´t have been more correct. Zipolite lies nestled in a little patch of civilization about twenty minutes south of Puerto Escondido. We checked into our hotel later that afternoon, after I´d satisfied my curiosity and awe at the thunderous and magnificent Pacific Ocean. Our cabaña is located in a little cove at the east end of the beach, with two huge boulders that stand guard like seaside sentinels at the entrance. We are sleeping, quite literally, in a tree house. Up two flights of rough stone stairs, our cabin is outfitted with only two tables, two chairs, a mosquito net and bed. I can´t describe how strangely familiar the smell of cedar wood and salty air was when we first ducked under the thatched roof. A thousand mixed memories of summer camp and still-damp swimsuits, beach side family vacations and the smell of warm coconut oil immediately flooded my mind and I instantly felt at home. We booked a week´s stay here, and received a two dollar a day discount for the commitment, so we´re essentially paying only fifteen US dollars a night for an enchanting little cabin... solomente thirty steps from the sea.
Zipolite itself is equally intoxicating. At this point in time, I can´t even recall how many days we´ve been here, since our activities have consisted of little else besides swimming, swinging in the many hammocks that line the beach, eating the BEST ceviche of our lives, sipping mojitos in the evening and flopping onto the bed out of pleasant exhaustion at the end of the day.
Everyone here is so kind, as well. The owners of our hotel, Lo Cósmisco, are two brothers with perpetual grins on their tanned and leathery faces. They are eager to engage in conversation with us and equally patient when we (or perhaps only I) stumble over my words, searching for the appropriate Spanish phrases.
Two days ago we met three folks from Cuernavaca, Lupita and her uncle Luis, and their friend Salvador, who have embraced us with kindness and hospitality that I have never experienced in the States. Yesterday they brought us to Mazunte, another beach about 6km from Zipolite, for an afternoon of choppy conversation and lots of swimming. Zipolite´s riptide is incredibly strong and it´s not advisable to go in deeper than waist-level, but Mazunte is much more tranquil and we spent the entire day lolling about in the water with our new friends.
I really have nothing more to report, other than that we are safe, sound, tan and happy. More to come as events unfold.... right now we´re just enjoying the laid back and laisse-faire pace of beach life. Love to all of you back home and we´ll see you soon!

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Oaxaca...que linda!


Oaxaca is absolutely gorgeous. We arrived here yesterday around 3pm and wandered a bit looking for a hostel, before deciding to go with the sister hotel of our hostel in Mexico City. I´m writing to you from the cool and breezy courtyard of the Mezkalito Hostel, which is situated five blocks west and one block north of the gorgeous zócalo central. Our accommodations are much better than those in Puebla and I think both Jake and I are glad to be back in the social hubbub of a hostel after our two quiet nights in Puebla. We had a fantastic dinner last night at El Sagrario, which is a white table cloth and candelitas kind of place. We were both jumping at the chance to sample the Oaxaqueño cuisine, so we ordered a dinner that let us try a little of everything that this region is known for. The taquitos were mind-blowing, as were the tostadas and the quesillo.. In the center of our spread, salted and seasoned beyond belief, was a wee little bowl of...uh...crickets. Jake, always up for new things, took a handful and chowed down. After a lot of coaxing, I tried a few as well. My inner vegetarian was screaming a thousand NOs, but the little guys turned out to be pretty good. My only issue arose when I managed to separate out a leg from the rest of the crunch, and all I could think about was that poor insect´s little spindly appendage between my teeth. Yeccch.
We met a couple of Irish travelers and two Canadians last night and had some great conversation until about 1AM... covering everything from the war in Iraq to our individual preferences of vitamins. Yeah.
We woke up around 9AM today and caught the cheap shuttle bus from our hostel to Monte Albán, about twenty minutes from the city. No words can describe just how hauntingly beautiful the ruins are. We were able to climb a few of the edificios in order to get a better view of the breathtaking vista that rolls out for miles, sun-dappled in places and rich with the color of the Mexican landscape. We walked around for about two hours before being taken back to our hostel, where we took a short siesta before heading back out to the city proper. One thing I´ve come to love about Mexico is the surplus of impromptu protests, marches and concerts that erupt on what seems like every street corner. We managed to stumble upon three different marches for various political candidates in the time it took to find the english language bookstore near the zócalo. After some cheap eats and many questions about how we could get to Puerto Escondido tomorrow morning, we´ve settled back in at the Mezkalito Hostel and are heading for an early bedtime. Tomorrow, bright and early, we´ll make the 7hr bus ride to the Oaxacan coast where, hopefully, there are still a couple of hammocks and a few empty spots on the beach for us two Americanos.

Lastly, I finally managed to score a computer with a USB port which allows me to upload some photos. I apologize that we only posted four, but the images are huge and the internet is suh-lowww with uploading files. Hopefully these won´t disappoint. :)
I don´t know why the computer insisted on keeping the photo of Jake in front of the belltower in horizontal form, but I can´t figure out how to outsmart the editing program. Oh well. The others are of Monte Albán, us on a bench just cheesing around, and a photo that jake says is worthy of posting, no matter how uninteresting it may be. :)
To everyone, family and friends alike, we love you and miss you. Wish us safe and speedy travel to la playa!

Lucha Libre, flash storms and churros with chocolate.

Ay yi yi.... hay mucho a escribir!
Our last night in Mexico City was an absolute blast.. Earlier in the day, we wandered the packed streets of the Centro Historico, marveling at the massive cathedral and its sky-high belltowers that grant some much-needed relief from the midday Mexican sun. We climbed one of the aforementioned belltowers at noon, and with the help of a friendly translator, learned about the oldest, the loudest, and the most important of the Metropolitan Cathedral´s thirty five bells. One of the smaller ones, facing the Palacio, is famous for causing the abrupt death of a bellringer fifty-odd years ago, when the hombre was caught offguard by the backswing. The bell itself was punished for its crime, and sentenced to a fifty-year period of silence. In 2000, the bell was absolved of its sin, and allowed to ring once more.
Just a little factoid for yous guys. :)

We toured around for the remainder of the afternoon and took the Metro (¡que loco!) to the Palacio de Bellas Artes and the Alameda that runs the length of it on one side. Pushing our way through street vendors and young couples, we walked through the Alameda for upwards of an hour, before deciding that our experience on the Metro necessitated una cerveza y una siesta before we could focus on gigantic Diego Rivera murals. We found a little bar just down the street and had no idea when we entered that our ten-minute rest stop would quickly become a rollicking good time in the company of six middle-aged and somewhat tipsy Bellas Artes employees. Apparently there´s a pretty popular song in Mexico that includes the line, "Susanna, mi corazón.." and our hosts insisted on playing it three, four, five times before finally giving up the jukebox to some other patron. :) The Palacio de Bellas Artes was beautiful, and our entrance was free after our new friends pulled a few strings.
Across from the Bellas Artes is a huge tower whose name currently escapes me, but it´s probably similar to the Empire State building. We paid our five dollars to be taken 44 floors above the city and were granted an incredible 360 degree view. Pictures will come soon.
We headed back to our hostel around 7 to catch a quick dinner before we were whisked off to Lucha Libre in the company of Oscar, the driver from our hostel, and a carload of party-seeking New Zealanders. Lucha Libre was insane, and despite our nosebleed seats, it was nothing short of wildly entertaining.
Saturday morning, we had breakfast atop the hostel and packed our bags for Puebla. We arrived here around 2 in the afternoon and took a taxi to the Zócalo, which is a huge expanse of green grass and towering trees in the middle of the city. We found a hotel about two blocks off of the zócalo for around 14 bucks a night with what appeared to be fairly decent rooms. The interior courtyard is gorgeous, but our room, a ten-foot wide and thirty foot long cell, has no window and a sorry excuse for a light. Oh, well. Esta bien. Again, it´s fourteen bucks and two blocks away. Whatever.
Our time here has been somewhat lazy so far, mostly because our attempts to see the sights have been thwarted by rain. We were caught in a storm today as we were trying to see the fuertes, or forts, that lie 2km north of town. A torrential downpour left us running for cover (none to be had) and in need of a shower and a stiff drink once we finally made it back down to town. C´est la vie. We tried.
Tomorrow we´re heading to Oaxaca and our lust for the beach, our books, and a quiet cabana grows stronger with each day. More later. Love to you all!


-susannah


So it looks like Suz has written yall a short story! I will attempt to add a bit, but highly doubt my ability to describe the artsy stuff as eloquently as she. The trip has been a blast so far! It has been interesting to figure out our travel style and how we fit together as viajeros. It seems to be going pretty well, especially for two people who believe that they are always right. (lots of "wait...who was right...oh yeah, me!") So as this is my first time traveling with a young lady it has been an experience watching the not so subtle Latino men stare Suz down. Granted it is a much more forward culture, but there have been times where I have thought to myself ¨"seriously guys, Im standing right here"! All has been solved by a well timed arm over the shoulders. (Susannah has also gotten really good at saying "I´m with him".
As far as communication has gone I have been pleasantly surprised by the amount of spanish I have retained. While I know I am far from fluent, we have been able to get around just fine and engage people in plenty of conversation. The bar near the museum of fine arts was quite silly. We walked into this old brown cafe, sat down and were essentially accosted by a group of men on their lunch break from doing restoration work at the museum. (evidently lunch in mexico includes copious amounts of tequila) My favorite part about this trip so far has been the people. Everyone has been so kind and genuine. From a couple answering our questions on the street to people inviting us to join them at their table and buying us lunch, the locals have shown a quiet pride in their country and an appreciation of our wide eyed enthusiasm.
As Susannah has mentioned, our cell at the hotel across the street is...interesting. Kinda looks like a weekend warrior strapped on a toolbelt to turn a gigantic dining room into three individual rooms. Nice right? Well, maybe the owners stopped paying him, or maybe they didnt want to ruin the intricate ceiling, but the wall stops about a foot from the top. This has the effect of allowing all the neighbor´s noise to come right on over onto our side. We got a dose of this last night as the occupant one over came crashing in at five in the morning, turned the tv to a telenovela at volume level 500 and promptly passed out. Thanks!
Tomorrow we make the 4 hr trek to oaxaca. We are hoping to spend a few days in what the guidebooks call the center of indigenous mexico before we wander to the beach. To the family, I love ya (hello little Maxwell and Lila!) To Susannah´s family, I am taking good care of your daughter/sister and we are staying safe!

VIVA MEXICO!

Jake

Mexico City...Day 1

hola from Mexico! We arrived here safely after a short delay in flight from Houston to Mexico City. As we approached from the air, we were astounded by the hazy cloud of thick yellow smog that covers the teeming city streets below. 0
We were hustled through the airport, assigned a taxi, and taken relatively quickly to the Centro Historico, where our lovely and colorful Hostel Moneda lies sandwiched between a beautiful cultural museum and the breathtaking cathedral. We checked in - well, Jake checked in while I remained quiet and attentive - and plunked our bags down in a small and humid room on the third floor. After each showering in blissfully warm water, we suited up and prepared for a stroll around the district. About 100 yds from our hostel is an excavated site that was apparently once considered to be the center of the universe by the Aztecs. As grandiose as it may sound, the site resembles nothing more than a heap of ancient stone and newly sprouted grass surrounded on all sides by a crowded market. Talk about merging the old with the new. We walked for about an hour, trying to orient ourselves a little, saying polite 'no thank yous' to the many merchants that line the sidewalks selling everything from flip flops to tostadas. We arrived back at the hostel about thirty minutes ago and made our way up to the rooftop bar and restaurant. Dinner was complimentary, and Jake and I are finally settling down a little with the help of a few insanely cheap Negro Modelos. More to come tomorrow... I'm still reeling from the fact that, for the next fifteen days, I won't have to set any sort of alarm. Vacaciones...que bueno! Love to you all back in the states.. and to Mr. and Mrs. Hafkin - Jake just yelled across the terrace to 'tell his parents he says hello!' .....and a hello from me as well!
Hasta luego, amigos!