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!