8/02/05 Mexican Motorcycle Diary pt.7
(continued from part 8/02/05 Mexican Motorcycle Diary pt.6)
Along this coast you could stop at a completely different playita about every 15 minutes. Each one unique and some with no more than a single palapa restaurant and nothing else as far as the eye can see. Soon I came upon a sign for Fara de Bucieras and had it claimed to be one of the most beautiful little beaches on the Michoacan coast. And, because I only had maybe another hour or so of light left I discussed it with Ruby and she seemed content to take a little siesta in the shade. The little stone road snaked around and through a small village then turned into a sand passage running along the beach with a few palapa restaurants and tiendas. Poor Ruby was having a bit of go staying upright in the soft sand patches, what with her dual-sport high heels and all, she did the best she could and I propped her up to inspect the beach. The sun was about to set and the sweet little cove was rimmed with soft golden sand and a little stone island reachable via a short wade across a sand bar. And, seated crooked atop the little island was a simple little restaurant. I went back to told Ruby to relax, we'd be staying here a night or two.
I picked a palapa at the end of the beach assuming it'd be the most quiet. Negotiated a rate of $30 pesos for the night, hung my hammock next to Ruby under the main palapa, and settled in. Ahhh! Peace at last. Until, the workers who'd been building a new tienda next door started hammering and sawing again. No problemo, it was getting late and perhaps they'd soon finish for the day. Then, the family I rented the palapa space from had a couple little ninos who felt compelled to sing tunes at the top of their lungs inbetween fits of crying and screaming. No sweat, likely the little tykes would be put to bed soon. Then mamacita cranks up the TV I hadn't seen propped up on a stack of crates just a few feet from me. I guess it was time for her stories, and in order to fight the pesky noise of ocean wave, she had to blast the TV at full volume. Oh well, guess it was time for a walk. Eventually, when all had quieted down, I settled back into my hammock to let the waves lull me to sleep. That is, until the breeze ceased and the first wave of mosquitos descended upon me. I scrambled for my repellent and discovered I had just one squirt left in the bottle. And, without the breeze it was now quite balmy so it was either endure mosquitos or slather myself in the only repellent I had left which was mixed with oily sunscreen. I opted for greasy sweating over the onslaught of mosquitos and finally drifted off.
I don't know how long I actually got to sleep, but as soon as the sun began his ascent Papa decides he needs to catch up on the news and twists the TV volume past tolerable volume and into distortion territory. And, it wasn't even 7AM yet! Time to move on, or at least to a different palapa down the beach. I slung my salty greasy self out of the hammock and stumbled down the beach half awake until I hit about the middle and sat for a cup of coffee at one of the little restaurants on the beach. I'd stopped there the night before when I went for a walk and although the restaurant was closed, the woman sympathized with my abdominal malady and agreed to fix me a couple cups of herba buena tea to settle it a bit. As I sat I noticed a few other travelers were enjoying a nice and quiet mid morning sleep in their hammocks. And, because this spot was up on a ridge of sand looking down on the beach the wind coming off the Pacific was much stronger, ie. no mosquitos! I nearly ran back to tell Ruby the good news and within minutos I strapped everything half-packed onto Ruby and in no more that 20 minutes, I was again laying in my hammock caressed my mid morning sea breeze.
A bit later a nice Mexican woman named Irma who was camping under the same palapa with her little daughter Elizabeth came over and told me about all the sea turtles they'd seen the night before on a nearby beach. Muchas tortugas! Muchas! She asked if I would want to join her and a friend for a short drive down to the next playita to see the tortugas. I said sure, but that I'd prefer to follow with Ruby. She said I could ride in their car if I wanted, but if I just wanted to ride the moto she understood. We chatted for awhile after that as she told me about the area and of the sunken ships just off coast you could snorkle to. After she'd broken the ice and gone off down to chat with her friend, her little chubby daughter Elizabeth stayed behind and stared at me for a good while. Charming little girl, but a little bit more touchy feely than I'm accustomed to. I answered most of the barrage of questions she had for me that were as intriguing as, "How much did your Zippo cost? Where did you buy? Do you think they sell them in Guadalajara? Can I have yours?, etc." Eventually her mother graciously called her away and I slipped off for a little nap in the hammock. But, that bit of peace was short-lived as well. Elizabeth put her little face about an inch from mine as I slept, then growled like a tiger at the top of her lungs. Scared the tacos outta me and rattled off something profane in English. I was embarassed at what I'd said to little Elizabeth until I realized she only spoke Spanish. I tried to slip back to sleep, but Elizabeth wouldn't have it. She just plopped herself right on top of me and nestled herself into the hammock with me like a kitten. I just closed my eyes and pretended to sleep until she finally got bored and moved on. ;-)
(to be continued in part 8/02/05 Mexican Motorcycle Diary pt.8)