| At some point in the fall, Sara called me and said, "I want to go to Mexico for Christmas and I think you should come with me." It didn't take much arm-wrestling to convince Mitch, either. And so the intrepid three (See Paris, Southwest France, and Virginia pages) are off on another adventure. There is a flurry of internet surfing over the next few weeks as we plan an itinerary and book airplane tickets and accomodations. Wendy offers to drive us to the airport and we are happy to accept. The 18th finally arrives and Wendy and Sara pick me up at 3:30 a.m. Then it’s down to the lower east side to get Mitch and off we go to La Guardia. The flight on Delta to Atlanta is full but leaves relatively on time. Hyper-active children and stupid parents from hell annoy
Mitch and me throughout the entire flight. Sara is mercifully several
rows away and misses all the drama. They take us out to the plane waiting on the tarmac in one of those bus containers that remind of a gas chamber. I'm more afraid of those containers than I am of flying. After a short hop in a little commuter number (maybe 30- or 40-seater), we are there. To get your bearings, here's a little map to show you where the state of Oaxaca is in Mexico: |
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And here's a more detailed map of the state of Oaxaca. See Puerto Escondido on the ocean at the bottom and slightly to the left. See Oaxaca City mid-state, north-northeast of Puerto.
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| Deplaning to the tarmac at Puerto Escondido (hidden port) is a revelation. The air feels sublime. We don’t need no stinkin’ coats and sweaters and hats.
Arrival at Puerto Escondido Airport
Sara and Mitch with NYC Winter Coats and Sweaters and Hats |
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| Luggage
is quickly retrieved and we look for a taxi. But Elo and Sonia, our landlords,
surprise us at the airport. Elo drives us to Villa Johanna in the van,
while Sonia waits for other guests.
Elo and Sonia also run the Moravian Café on the Benito Juarez Boulevard, just a couple of blocks from Villa Johanna—in case you get a hankering for goulash while you’re in Puerto. Mitch ate breakfast there a couple of times, but I had little interest--maybe next time. |
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| We choose up bungalows (Sara and I are on the 2nd floor because it’s a little nicer, and besides, we’re special,) unpack our duds, shower off all the traveling dirt and put on some cooler clothes. I slowly begin to be really aware of our surroundings and to feel more like a human being.
Mitch took the bottom floor, Sara and I had the 2nd floor and Elo and Sonja were on the top floor under the palapa roof.
A better view of Mitch’s front door.
The round tower contained the shower for each floor, which was almost a whole room. Ours had a window overlooking the house and pool area.
The table on our terrace. There were matching chairs. Very festive.
Not very comfortable but, purdy.
Not very elaborate, but we could have cooked.
We kept juice and milk and some fruit in the ‘frig. Sara made coffee every
day and kept us in breakfast rolls.
Sara had the left bed, LRH right bed. Lovely
ornate carvings. Don’t know what the wood is, Unfamiliar to me. Mitch’s
room was similar with a cooler, blue scheme. It was also darker, since
it was on the first floor and got little sun or breeze.
The last picture is the view from our terrace. The pool was quite lovely. I sat and read there for a few hours the next day. A man came every day to take care of the grounds, water the plants, and clean the pool. |
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Soon we are ready for dinner. We amble down the Benito Juarez Boulevard and find a Portuguese restaurant on the strip of shops and cafes that line the Blvd. Good fish dishes and charming waiter. Disco music begins to play from somewhere as we are eating. It’s difficult to tell where it is coming from. We walk down the street after dinner looking for the source and soon find a schoolyard packed with kids dancing to the beat and the light show. The bass is starting to vibrate my sternum-ordinarily a sensation I like, but I’m too tired tonight to enjoy it. We begin the walk back to our little bungalows, with the sound following us. It isn’t as bad when we get inside, but it is pretty insistent. Is this going to go on every night? We know not. (Later we find out it’s the end-of-term party before the holidays officially begin.) We have not had any real sleep since Wednesday, though, and it takes little time to become unconscious with the breeze of the overhead fans lulling us to sleep.
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Puerto
Escondido |
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