This expat-friendly beach destination is popular with surfers, Canadians and Europeans owing to the strength of their currency here. My international-friend group has been in my ear for the past year about it. After a short romance with CDMX last autumn, I decided that it was time to make time to explore Mexico so what better place to start than Puerto Escondido. I made a week-long recon trip to get my feet on the ground and get a taste of what it had to offer.
It was great. The food was that classic Mexican fare that gringos like me envy and wish their mothers made them when they were children. The guacamole that I ordered beach-side, while supine on a restaurant-adjacent hammock facing the ocean one Tuesday afternoon came with flower petals on top. I learned that you can order not just micheladas but cheladas that are the equivalent to a michelada in Colombia — beer, ice and lime juice. I drank a few of them due to the scorching daytime heat. Even though it was early spring the mid-day temperatures along the water made seeking shade and a cool beverage requisite for those of us of fairer complexion.
For ease of entry and access I stayed at a hostel-ish venue with a built-in co-working space. Wifi was never a problem and though there were ample opportunities to meet other travelers and do exciting things, between the heat and my professional work load, all I didn’t have the energy to anything other than decompress from my three months in Bogotá.
There is great surfing to be had on Zicatela beach, the beach across the street from where I was living; unfortunately the waves break too close to shore this time of year to warrant surfing. Thank Goodness — instead I focused what energy I did have on my early morning beach workouts – losing a new pair of sunglasses I had packed back in December to use in the riptide of a rough wave on their second usage. What Zicatela affords for surfing it denies for swimming – it is generally effort to keep track on the onslaught of surf that is approaching and there were always “No swimming – riptide too dangerous” flags posted at 20 meter intervals along the beach. “Don’t worry! My corpse will just wash out to sea, you won’t be responsible for it” I waved reassuringly to the beach cop who eyed me from shore, ascertaining whether I was an incompetent idiot who would cause him paperwork or just an idiot. “Just an idiot!” I cupped my hands and waved back reassuringly.
I did take a couple of mini day trips to nearby beach destinations from Puerto Escondido. The first, facilitated by my friend Rose, involved driving scooters on the highway for about 20 miles south to a place called Agua Blanca. It was a different beach — with trees (unlike Zicatela), and nice little girls who sold drinks. I swam, snoozed and successfully did not get sunburned.
The other destination was Mazunte. The most hippie place of foreign people outside of Blackrock City, Nevada I have ever visited (in a good way). It makes Puerto Escondido seem like Las Vegas, with less than a handful of places you can pay to sit down and eat — everyone a surfer or a young person who presumably abandoned their European family to date a guy named Juan at age 23.
Recon trips are great to scout and understand perspectives of destinations in a short time frame. After scouting Puerto Escondido I feel as though I have pretty good insight into the micro cultures of the hippie-surfer communities that are definitely a think in coastal Mexico.
By the time my week had expired and it was time to continue on to the next destination I was ready to leave and also ready to return again for more of the same.
