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 Travel & Outdoors | October 2007 
Puerto Escondido Doesn't Aim for Perfection, But it Pleases
 Stephanie Shapiro - The Baltimore Sun
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| | A tropical resort where goats graze outside hotels, development is helter-skelter and an elevator has yet to operate, Puerto lends an entirely new meaning to the term "all inclusive." |
Puerto Escondido, Mexico - During a six-day visit to Puerto Escondido, a scruffy, though charming beach town in the southern Mexican state of Oaxaca, my family and I joined Mexican families, European vagabonds and surf bums for an escape from reality. As it turned out, we didn't get that far.
In "Puerto," mesmerizing views of the Pacific Ocean coexist with piles of trash, stray dogs frolic on the beach and an ocean-front snooze is sure to be interrupted by a stream of vendors hawking everything from shrimp cocktails to semiprecious jewelry or "your name on a grain of rice."
A tropical resort where goats graze outside hotels, development is helter-skelter and an elevator has yet to operate, Puerto lends an entirely new meaning to the term "all inclusive."
This imperfect paradise is difficult to reach. While speedy, a round-trip flight from Oaxaca City would have cost $1,000 for a family of four. We opted for the twisty over-land route. The trip, including van and taxi rides to get to Puerto, and a return bus from Puerto to Oaxaca City, cost approximately $125 for the four of us.
The journey was seven hours from Oaxaca City over the Sierra Madre del Sur mountain range to Pochutla, an hour east of Puerto. There, we caught a kamikaze cab, whose driver blew past buses, collectivos (pickup-truck taxis), pedestrians and animals in a gallant effort to reach the beach in record time. During the breakneck ride, soothing glimpses of the sea, lagoons dense with mangroves and coconut farm stands blurred past.
It was late afternoon when we checked into the Hotel Santa Fe and were met by a friendly staff, thick beach towels and a chirping lizard in our kitchenette. At the beach across the street, a herd of boogie boarders barrel-rolled and pivoted to shore like so many cowboys astride bucking broncos.
That evening, we ate red snapper grilled with lots of garlic at the Santa Fe's palapa (thatched roof) restaurant. We eavesdropped as two leathery surfer dudes debriefed a glamorous production crew in town to film a commercial featuring Puerto's storied surfing beach.
The languid pipeline that breaks on Zicatela Beach draws an international crowd of surfers, boarders and their comely entourages. Mid- to late summer is low season for tourists but prime time for perfect waves and international tournaments.
Experts alone should brave Zicatela's thrilling swells. Others can choose from several lively Puerto beaches. Mexican families flock to Playa Principal, home to the town's fishing fleet. Here, visitors wade among the boats, picnic on the sandy shore and play soccer until well past dusk.
Playa Manzanillo and Puerto Angelito occupy a cove to the west. Crammed with seafood shacks and frequented by busloads of visitors, Angelito is hardly an oasis. Buses can't get to the more serene Manzanillo, in part because of an ill-conceived road that is so steep that rain sluicing down its surface has on occasion wiped out seaside businesses.
Farther west, a 167-step cliff descent leads to Playa Carrizalillo, a gorgeous crescent of sand nestled in a rocky cove. An inexpensive water-taxi ride from Playa Principal is another option for getting to Carrizalillo, but choppy surf can turn the brief hop into a trial.
We encamped at Playa Marinero, the beach closest to our hotel where the surf was ideal for acrobatic body boarders and decent swimmers. Each morning, a friendly 13-year-old named Emmanuel, employed by Restaurant Liza's, set up the chaises, adjusted umbrellas and kept us hydrated with sodas, beer and coconut milk.
Still, it took awhile to get used to this unkempt getaway.
At first, the dogs, the litter, the fear of intestinal distress and security warnings threw us a bit off our game. But we quickly found that bottled water was readily available and restaurants were usually meticulous in preparing fresh produce for consumption. That reduced chronic fretting to a minimum.
We resolved to play it safe, avoiding the beach at night, but not to vacation in fear. While sipping milk from a chilled coconut under palapa umbrellas, it didn't take long to fall into a soporific Puerto frame of mind.
Had we stayed longer in Puerto, we may have invested in a turtle-watching cruise, a sport-fishing excursion or a kayak tour of one of the area's scenic lagoons, Manialtepec or Los Naranjos. We could have partied all night at Puerto clubs such as the Blue Station Bar. Instead, we assumed our usual beach position for the entire week: supine, with a book in one hand and a cold drink in the other.
Hunger didn't take us far from our perches. Twice we lunched at Arcis, a friendly palapa restaurant on Playa Marinero. With a machete, the owner hacked off slivers of coconut meat, which he served with plates of fresh sliced limes and chili sauce for starters. Then came soft tacos stuffed with chicken, luscious guacamole, salsa, rice and beans and ice-cold Cokes. Lunch for three cost $14.
In the evenings, we frequented Puerto's quirky Zicatela beach business district, where a surfer-friendly economy prevails. "Free beer with one week surfboard rental," one sign read. P.J.'s Book Bodega & Surf Shop offers one-stop shopping for surfing bibliophiles.
P.J.'s, beneath the Zicatela Surf Hostel, doubles as a cinema that seats 12 and serves popcorn, beer and iced tea. The week we were there, features included Walk the Line, Nacho Libre and Y Tu Mama Tambien, filmed partly in Puerto.
Twice, we had dinner at El Jardin, a palapa restaurant and superb vantage point for studying wayfarer fashion, which tended toward gypsy-chic, with inventive head wrappings, strategic piercings, high-tech travel apparel and Mexican garb. El Jardin served great brick-oven pizzas and restorative smoothies made from fresh ginger, pineapple and seltzer. One night, I feasted on homemade yogurt topped with perfectly ripe papaya.
We breakfasted a couple times at Carmen's Cafecito, another Zicatela mainstay, where early-morning customers can watch surfers while munching pastries filled with mango cream or empanadas with a filling of pineapple and apple.
One morning, I hailed a taxi to Temazcalli, a spa tucked into the hills above Puerto, where massages, facials and "bioenergetic balance techniques" are offered. I opted for the Temazcal, a steam bath infused with eucalyptus, rosemary and arnica, among other herbs. Afterward, I sat on a patio and sipped a fruity glass of tea before returning to the beach - rested and ready to rest some more.
El Adoquin, a lively promenade that parallels Playa Principal, serves as Puerto's de facto boardwalk. Its stalls - crammed with souvenirs, beach toys, woven skirts, hammocks, drawstring pants and bikinis - draw nightly throngs of flirting teens, families and backpackers staying in nearby hostels.
At an El Adoquin crossroads, Gina Machorro, known by admirers around the globe as the "Information Goddess," dispenses advice from a state-run tourist information booth.
Quick-witted, worldly and multilingual, Machorro always has something to say. Describing the steep hike to Carrizalillo, she quips, "That's the price of beauty." Of the Spanish instructor she has in mind for two German travelers, she commands: "Go. She's waiting for you."
Speaking to a tourist interested in sport fishing, she inquires, "Do you want to go in English or do you want to go in Spanish?"
A fatalistic sense of humor characterizes Machorro's feelings about her adopted town. Because it straddles two counties, Puerto, population 55,000, is governed haphazardly, the Mexico City native says. Recently, the town replaced all street signs, but neglected to include numbers, making her job directing tourists that much more challenging.
Puerto, though, has gotten under Machorro's skin. When the tourist season picks up in November with sail fishing and surfing contests as well as a folk-dance festival, she gives tours of ruins and the commercial and residential parts of Puerto where few visitors would venture otherwise.
The Information Goddess didn't steer me wrong when I asked her to suggest a place for dinner. She sent us to Los Crotos, a seafood restaurant overlooking Playa Principal, where the morning's catch arrives. In the glow of twilight, we feasted on more red snapper - crackley and suffused with garlic - a tantalizing ceviche, margaritas and flan. Strolling musicians serenaded guests. Oceanfront soccer games continued until it got too dark to see the ball.
Puerto, I realized, is a place that you come to love for its scruffy qualities as well as its tropical beauty.
IF YOU GO
• Getting there: From Mexico City, Aerocaribe offers one flight daily to Puerto Escondido, five days a week. Puerto Escondido also can be reached by bus, van or car from Mexico City, Acapulco, Bahias de Huatulco and Oaxaca.
LODGING
• Hotel Santa Fe: An upscale hotel by Puerto standards and pricier than most local accommodations. 01-954-582-0170.
• Hotel Mayflower: An inexpensive hotel on El Adoquin favored by Europeans. 01-954-582-0367.
• Hostel Shalom: Cheap, with private room options and a swimming pool. 01-954-582-3234.
• Las Olas: Budget cabanas on Playa Zicatela. 01-954-582-0919.
DINING
• Carmen's Cafecito: A bustling spot overlooking Zicatela. 01-954-582-0516.
• Restaurante El Jardin: Another Zicatela restaurant with delicious vegetarian fare and great smoothies. 01-954-582-2315.
• Restaurant Los Crotos: On El Adoquin, with romantic terrace dining. 01-954-582-0025.
INFORMATION
• Mexico Tourism Board: www.visitmexico.com or 800-44-MEXICO. |
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