Ixtapa, Mexico

Buenos dias! We're back from a relaxing trip to Mexico, and now for the least fun part: blogging about it. Grumble grumble.

The Travels

We booked direct flights between Toronto and Zihuatanejo, which was very nice... no stopping in the US for a full-body search. The flight there was 5.5 hours; we drove to Toronto and stayed overnight with some friends, flying out at 8:00am. Unfortunately I had the world's biggest headache all day, which was the one thing I'd been dreading about the trip: a headache's least favourite friends are stuffy airplane air and 30-degree weather. Which was the approximate temperature when we landed... ugh!

The airport is outside of Zihuatanejo (Zihua for short), which is a town of 110,000 not far from the resort town of Ixtapa. According to Wikipedia, Ixtapa's population is around 6,000 but it offers about 5,000 accommodation rooms in its various resorts and hotels. So tourism is a rather substantial industry in these parts.

Upon clearing customs, we paid for a colectivo, which is a taxi you share with other people to save some money. The rate was 240 pesos for the two of us, whereas a regular taxi would have been 360. (One dollar was about 12 pesos during our stay.) Cheap Dutchmen! Since the colectivo tends to be a nine-seater Suburban, the driver prefers to fill the beast with people before driving away. Since we and another couple were the only ones waiting for our particular cab, they didn't want to leave with only four passengers. We got the runaround for 40 minutes before finally convincing them that they could have been gone and back in that time. We finally drove off, with still only four passengers (a different couple than the initial one).

Anyway, what a rip-off! $20 for a 20-minute ride in a country that's supposed to be inexpensive! It's actually much less to get back to the airport, but going from there you're at their mercy.

It was cloudy when we arrived; in fact, it had rained the day or two before. This is highly unusual, as rain is generally not expected at all between November and May.

The Resort

We met up with Carrie's parents who were already a week into their stay. We stayed at a resort in Ixtapa called Pacifica; the resort is on a hillside at the end of a long crescent-shaped beach. The view from our 4th-floor studio room was spectacular, perhaps better than from Mom & Dad's room which was a floor lower. The only problem with our view was that the gondola cables ended up in nearly every picture!

Part of the resort covering the hillside at the end of the beach.


The gondola runs up the hill and has three stations, providing easy access to the beach for guests living up on the hill. The gondola went right by our corner unit, and although thankfully the gondola was dead silent, its cables did tend to mar our attempts of a perfect beach photo.

Our unit was high enough to provide a great view, but at the same time our building was the closest to the beach. Many of the other 40 buildings on the resort were not so conveniently close, so we had the best of both worlds. To the resort's credit, it provided 24-hour shuttle service to and from anywhere on the (very hilly and very extensive) grounds. Throughout the week we would make good use of this service to reach the main road where we could flag down a bus or cab.

The view from our balcony.


We weren't doing an all-inclusive. That tends to cost over $50 per person per day, and unless you plan to drink all day and all night, it's a whole lot cheaper to just go to the grocery store and buy unprepared food there. Of course, it helps to have a kitchen, which our unit did.

The room. Being on the top floor, it had a nice vaulted ceiling.


On the beach were chairs and palapas (open-sided shelters). There we could hang out and order drinks, which we could charge to our rooms. Or, if we felt cheap, we could smuggle our own drinks down instead.

Typical beach scenario: palapas and lots of lounging chairs.


Since my sisters are obsessed with seeing this gringo's sexy white legs, voilà!. They'll be happy to know I spent most of my time in shorts and in the sun.


The resort has gyms and restaurants and a bunch of pools. We didn't use much of anything; since the ocean was warmer than the pools, I think I jumped into a pool only once.

This infinity pool was nicer to photograph than to jump into.


There were various animals to enjoy. Iguanas, parrots, turtles, herons, penned crocodiles... Feeding time for the crocs was at 3pm every day. We missed or forgot or didn't bother every day for a week. One day we went a little late and there were actually 3 up close on land with 4 more visible in the water, but of course I didn't have my camera on hand. Oh well, I done seen 'em.





The First Days

Saturday was spent just relaxing and walking to the market in Ixtapa. There we warded off vendors whilst wending our way through a maze of tiny booths crammed with unpriced trinkets. I still have "Good price amigo!" ringing in my ears. Fortunately I wasn't looking to buy any souvenirs or other useless crap so we emerged unscathed.

We also enjoyed our first Mexican sunset. It had rained a day or two before, which is horribly unseasonal, but the remaining clouds made for some nice views across the water.





On Sunday we went to a local English-speaking church that is popular among Canadian and American tourists. There was a guest minister that day whose English wasn't so great, so we heard a decent message on the traits of Joshua, via a translator.

Later we had lunch with some friends from church. I don't generally eat seafood, but when in Rome...


I dug into the crab, lobster, fish, whatever else. The ceviche wasn't so appetizing (sea food pickled in a citrus-based mixture, rather than cooked), but the octopus was worth trying.


Instead of taking the bus "home", Carrie and I got a ride back with friends. They gave a nice little driving tour of the area.

Palm tree forest!


Resort town streets versus rural town streets.


On Monday we went with Mom and Dad to get groceries. We headed to a big Superstore-type place in Zihua, which seems to be where all the white people shop. Getting there by bus was simple: stand at the side of the main road and wave or twitch when a rickety bus comes along. It screeches to a halt wherever you happen to be, and you hop on for a measly 8 pesos (65 cents). (Watch out that you don't twitch when a cab is in the vicinity, or one or more will pull up at your service. If you don't twitch, they'll actually honk to let you know they're there.)

With a couple hundred bucks in groceries and liquor, we didn't want to take the bus back. No problem; a handful of cabs waited outside the store for folks like us. We looked at our stack of goods, then looked at the cab. Almost every cab is a white Nissan Sentra with a squeaky suspension. We didn't like the idea of cramming into one of those, but after a few minutes of unsuccessfully trying to convince them that we needed something mas grande, we gave in. It wasn't so bad after all (although I wasn't squished into the back seat), and for $5 we made it back to the resort.

Besides some inevitable beach time, Dad, Carrie and I went kayaking in the afternoon. Kayaks were free to use and the water is generally quite calm once you make it past the surf when pushing off. It was a tiring but very pleasant outing... even when Dad splashed me with a paddle, and when I tried to retaliate I ended up in the drink; fortunately I didn't attract any predatory sea life, and it was easy enough to clamber back into my open-topped kayak.

The Episode

Blood dripped slowly from her right ear onto her blouse. What had just happened? She felt dazed, and her ears were ringing. Shaking her head to focus, she looked at her husband lying on the path in front of her; he was moaning and clutching his side, obviously in tremendous pain.

Sylvie forgot her own misery and knelt beside the man, wondering what she could do to help him. She had no phone or first aid supplies, and Ghislain needed help fast...

---

The day had started out as any other. The couple were staying at an RV park near Zihua; they and a number of friends had driven all the way down from Montreal with their fifth wheels, having arrived a few days ago.

This morning, Ghislain and Sylvie had put their bicycles in the back of the pickup truck and driven into Ixtapa, from where they planned to bike along a popular paved trail through an ecological reserve to a beach called Playa Linda. And off they pedalled...

---

Meanwhile, a few kilometres down the path inside the reserve, a couple of idiot kids had plans of their own. The nature reserve was heavily forested, and the path running through it had many turns that hid one section from the next. The boys found a perfect ambush spot at one such turn, where a narrow dirt trail led off the bike path into the bushes. They were all set for the morning's activities: handkerchiefs over their faces, hats low over their eyes, and .22 rifles in hand.

They put their plan into action. As a group came along, the gun-toting lads would jump out of the bushes, prod the victims down the dirt trail into the bushes, relieve them of any valuables, and force them to stay still. When the next cyclists came along, the procedure was repeated, adding to the group of victims hidden away.

The first groups of victims that morning were a young Mexican family, a young local couple, and three long-time American tourists. Cell phones, a camera and an iPod were among the items stolen. The thieves also let the air out of a few bike tires to hamper eventual attempts to get help.

The last victims were a couple from Montreal...

---

Ghislain and Sylvie were enjoying their bike ride, despite the rising temperature. Upon entering the nature reserve, they had seen a sign indicating what kinds of bird and other wildlife they might encounter. They were almost halfway through the reserve, and there hadn't much to see yet. Maybe around the next corner...

As they came around a bend in the path, two wild-eyed teenagers suddenly sprang out of the shrubbery to block them! The kids yelled something in Spanish, dancing around excitedly, and they were pointing rifles at the cyclists. Ghislain had heard the occasional story of tourists being intimidated by would-be assailants; the rule on the road was that you didn't stop. This wasn't exactly a road, but at any rate he whispered fiercely to Sylvie, who was already slowing down, "Don't stop, just ignore them!" They put their heads down and laboured on the pedals, avoiding eye contact with the jumpy kids.

The idiots didn't like it at all and responded with force. Ghislain was pretty well on top of the first kid, who jammed his rifle barrel into Ghislain's rib cage and fired point-blank. The man didn't fall immediately but maintained his balance and went on down the path a few metres, with the kid chasing him; he toppled shortly after, scraping his knee in the process.

The second kid effectively stopped Sylvie, although with her husband down she had no choice but to stick around.

---

Tuesday morning, Dad, Carrie and I went on a bike tour. The resort provided bike tours twice daily; seven guests had signed up for this morning's tour but we were the only ones to show up when our resort's tour guide was ready to leave.

We donned uncomfy helmets and unhip traffic vests, picked the best bikes from the selection available, and started on our way. Our guide took us through the town of Ixtapa, along nice paved paths that eventually led us away from town. Upon arriving at the entrance of an ecological reserve, we took a short break and discussed the wildlife we might spot in the next while.

About 2.5km in, we came upon them mere minutes after the robberies. The Mexican family was walking away, already a ways down the path; one of the three Americans was trying to cycle away for help, despite his front tire being deflated. Ghislain was lying on the pavement, with Sylvie hovering over him.



At first we figured someone may have just fallen off a bike, but slowly on we learned what happened. The two remaining American were more mad than scared, having lost some electronics to the robbers; I chatted them up while Dad helped get Ghislain more comfortable, Carrie got details from Sylvie (who hardly spoke English) and our guide (who carried a radio) tried to call for help.

Ghislain had been shot in the side; the bullet had grazed a rib but had not come out the back. The entry wound wasn't bleeding, and there was a big blue welt in the back. The Americans told me the gunshot sounded like a cap gun, so we initially thought it was just a pellet gun or BB gun wound. (We later learned it had been a .22; they're not particularly loud, and I imagine the fact that it was point-blank would have muffled the sound somewhat.)

Sylvie kept asking for a serviette. We had noticed blood on her ear and shirt but didn't know she was hurt. It seems that the second kid either shot her through the ear cartilage or hit her, when she didn't stop her bike. The robbers had taken off into the bushes when things got out of control, leaving a group of shaken victims minus some loot.

Sylvie was very calm and composed (and very likely in a bit of shock), mostly ignoring her own injury.

The two remaining Americans got tired of waiting for their friend to return and left shortly before help arrived. They had to walk, as their tires had been deflated.

It was 3km to either Playa Linda or Ixtapa. We have an inkling of how Mexican time works but this was ridiculous. It was well over a half hour before an ambulance made its way to our location, after which the state and municipal police also arrived in full force. A reporter accompanied them, taking notes and photos as the cops interviewed people.





Had this couple cooperated with the robbers, we would have been next. Had we not stopped at the edge of the reserve, who knows? Had we.. etc, etc. We're thankful that we weren't among the victims, and now we know to travel a little lighter than we usually do (pockets full of cash, cards, cameras).

We decided we might as well cancel our bike tour, so we headed back to the resort.

After lunch Dad and I decided to explore the rocky end of the beach. With completely inappropriate footwear we headed off to see what there was to see.

Looks inviting, no?


Dusty and rocky, with scraggly cacti and way too hot sun.


Saw tons of crabs skittering along. They're pretty quick.


Side note: there you have it. Proof that I've subjected my pasty body to the sun's evil rays. And that I wore shorts! Is it just me, or does that cactus makes me look positively fat? Just me huh? Fine.


Dad is quite the mountain goat.


So this is what we found. More beach and more resorts. Looks purdy though.


Towards evening we all took a walk down the beach to enjoy the sunset. I snapped literally hundreds of shots, confident that one or two would turn out nicely.

A sunset sailing cruise. Why take it when you can enjoy the sunset from the beach?


Mom & Dad. Awwwww...


Carrie sans photographer (me). Hmmmmm...


Wednesday

On Wednesday morning Carrie and Dad joined the snorkeling tour offered by the resort. Snorkelling doesn't interest me much, although if we'd stayed a few more weeks I might have been goaded into going once.



Meanwhile Mom and I wrestled with the wireless Internet situation. She had taken her laptop so she could get some work done. The resort offers wireless Internet, but reliability isn't 100%; on top of that, the building are all concrete, so signals don't canvas the area like they might with mere wood structure in the way. If that wasn't enough, the built-in card in the laptop actually died, so we had to source a USB wireless card. We still had lots of trouble, with the best results had by heading to a hotspot centre and plunking down beside a router. Not so convenient.

In the afternoon we headed to La Ropa beach. We first went to look for Ghislain and Sylvie, who'd given us some contact info the day before. They weren't at the RV park; a neighbour told us they hadn't spent the night in the hospital but had gone this morning to get the wounds looked at. We left a note and headed to the beach.

We passed some guys shucking freshly caught oysters. For reasons unknown, Carrie and Dad found them appealing and bought a bunch. They squeezed lime juice onto them and slurped the raw stuff down as Mom and I watched trying not to gag.

Wrong, just plain wrong.


Somewhere along the beach we found a restaurant that had been recommended, La Perla. We stopped there for nice sunset dinner.

Waiting for mahi-mahi and more. Note my gargantuan drink... lasted all night.


Dessert was fried ice cream with a fantastic coconut coating. Scrumptious!


Come sunset, we had the best seats in the house.


After dinner, we headed back to Ixtapa. The ladies went back to the resort, while Dad and I went into town with a mission: we'd been told there were three local papers and, having seen the reporter at yesterday's scene, we wanted to see articles written about the robbery. (On top of that, on the cab ride to the beach this morning I'd seen one of the newspapers on the dashboard of the cab; I'd convinced the cabbie to give me the paper, but now we wanted two copies.)

We asked around and checked a number of stores before finding one of the daily papers, of which we bought two copies. The second paper, of which I'd gotten a copy from that cab driver, proved more difficult to find; Dad had the bright idea of locating one of the local booth vendors in the market whom he'd met. We asked him whether he could find a copy of the paper, so he told us to stay put; within five minutes he was back with a paper. I was so impressed that I bought a hat from him as a souvenir (he refused to just be paid for his running around for us); He wanted way too much, but we talked him down and then I convinced him to take Canadian dollars. Mission accomplished! (We never found evidence of a third daily newspaper; maybe there were ever only two dailies.)

The Last Days

Thursday was a relaxing day, spent strolling and tanning and swimming and window shopping. I like not always being busy doing stuff when on holidays. Slow days are welcome; we are on vacation, after all!

On Friday, Dad and Carrie went snorkelling again; they'd tried on Thursday, but the guy who had access to all the equipment never showed up (turns out he was off sick). I walked to the nearest golf course to find a score card for a certain collector friend back home. Then of course more beach time. By this point I was still far too white, so I dispensed with the sunscreen and set out to become crispy; it worked like a charm, so now parts of me are well cooked. Actually, those parts looked burnt for a day or two, but now there's no sign of burnage on me; either it has turned into tan or I'm back to my former pasty self.

We were convinced to try a nice expensive restaurant on a romantic beach setting that evening. So the two of us went to La Cala, a restaurant (paired with a hotel) in a very out-of-the-way spot, which cab ride there really tried the suspicious imagination. But we weren't dead or robbed by the time we got there, so we proceeded to enjoy ourselves.

We got there just when it opened at 6pm and were seated down at the water. Every time a wave rolled in and then swept back out, a million smooth pebbles would cascade down and make the most amazing sound. I can't explain it so you'll have to imagine or go hear for yourself.

Carrie enjoying a front-row seat.


Ooh, I finally learned to do proper night shots! What better way to spend a romantic dinner with one's wife than to fiddle with the camera?


Dinner's ready! Rabbit for me, seafood for her.



One of very few shots of the two of us.


On Saturday we got ready to leave and then enjoyed a leisurely breakfast buffet on the beach. The flight home was just over four hours, making it shorter than a trip to BC! Would we go back? Sure; now we know to travel light and to cooperate with dudes with guns. We're back, we're rested, and now I'm off winter camping with some guys in about an hour. Why should the fun end?