¡Viva México!

All good things come to an end. Yep, the cliche is true. This is more than likely my last post for what has been, as I will eloquently put it, an insanely fucking good trip. (I really need to learn how to emphasize without swear words, but until that day comes I think this phrase will suffice.)

The last five or six, (or seven?) days since my last blog have been pretty similar - the days definitely seem to merge. More surfing, bodysurfing, eating, drinking, reading, music-appreciating, shit-talking and definitely sweating.

Some funny little anecdotes:

At breakfast a few days ago some weird old dude from Canada introduced himself, and then talked at us for what must have been 20 minutes (I shunned him off to Harry and stuck my head into my breakfast - my tolerance for people I don't want to talk to is minimal to say the least.) For those long minutes we were assaulted with hundreds of facts about nothing. Apparently the Andes will be taller than the Himalayas soon. Apparently we wouldn't have the mental capacity to know where or what the Amazon was. THE AMAZON. It's only the coolest place in the world. What 5 year old kid doesn't know piranhas are from the Amazon? Seriously?

That same day, in the afternoon, I noticed a guy getting caught in a rip on the main part of Playa Zicatela. Everyone else seemed a bit too nonchalant. Turns out he really was in trouble and a few minutes later I was halfway out to sea.

"Necesitas nadar a la izquierda. Swim left! Swim left!"

He didn't listen. Eventually Harry got there and we ended up having a little paddle-train back to the beach. Finally got to use my bronze medallion - yeah!

I'm sure there's plenty more but I'm so chilled here I literally can't be bothered to try and remember anymore. Ha.

We drive back to Oaxaca city tomorrow at 10am. Harry leaves the next day. I have a few more days in one of my new favourite cities. Looking forward to a few more Plato Mixtos, some mouthwatering street food and probably a lunch or two with my Mexican family.

I don't really have any idea how to finish this blog. It has been an educational, hilarious, tiring, captivating, delicious, eventful, chilled six weeks in Mexico. Of a few things I am sure:
- Mexican Pipe isn't the best beachbreak in the world; contrary to local opinion.
- Although I more or less understand when someone speaks in Spanish, surf slang is like another whole language altogether.
- Food is a massive part of travel - especially in places where I can afford it!
- Beards aren't that annoying - can't speak for my appearance though.
- Speak in Australian slang and Americans won't understand a thing.
- Mexican music isn't that good.
- I'm coming back to Mexico sooner rather than later...

Sal!

It's amazing what a little salt can do to make things better...add it to peanuts, lick it before tequila or add it to water. I am referring to the latter. Two days ago was my first time in the ocean for more or less six weeks. It was also my first surf in eight since I messed up my ankle in an unfortunate incident with concrete and a piece of wood with four wheels attached. For me, now, I am certain that nothing "heals" (for want of a better word) than a good old swim (or surf) in the ocean.

After a humorous trip through the mountains - we left Oaxaca with 4 people and arrived in Puerto Escondido with 17 or 18 - Haz and I indulged in the wonders of the sea. We've spent the last 3 days going back and forth between the beach, the hostel, the market and the main street. Finally, after 5 weeks in Mexico I've discovered what Hugo was talking about - "dude, nothing beats fish tacos."

I can (now) safely say I tentatively agree (maybe Plato Mixto from Alvaro's in Ciudad de Oaxaca trumps though).

Only 2 hours ago, just before my first encounter with fish tacos I watched in awe as two women prepared my fresh mango and orange juice. Two bucks for a litre of fresh juice. Something is wrong with Australia. Shortly after, I ate a giant the aforementioned fillet of fish with avocado, tomato and lime in tacos for $3.50. Again, something is wrong with Australia

¿Cuantos?
Veinticinco pesos
¿Como?
Veinticinco
.
For the first time in my travels of the last few years, I haven't felt the need to move. Harry and I have been contented with reading, swimming (at least) 4 times a day, eating delicious food and, of course, talking shit.

For those who are wondering about Puerto - Harry and I decided it was Mexican Byron Bay.  Which was ironic because not three seconds after I said that I spotted a guy walking down the main street of PE with the stereotypical Byron-Bay-Kombi-T-shirt. So basically, to sum up, Puerto is a cheaper, better, cooler, hotter Byron?