Better late than never, as they say! Here, finally, is the recap of my long weekend trip to Puerto Escondido with my students from Regulab.us, a company in Querétaro that I have worked with for the last four years.
Each year, the owners of Regulab do something special as a “Posada” for their employees. A couple of years ago, the company brought everyone to Mérida. It was a blast, with outings to Uxmal, cenotes, haciendas and an overnight stay at the beach. In 2023, Posada was in Puerto Escondido, a small city on the southwestern Pacific coast of the country in the state of Oaxaca.
The city has become more popular in recent years as a tourist destination and retirement community for expats. I actually looked into a development there called Vivo Resorts before we moved to Mexico. One of the key selling points was the beach and the fact that the climate there is reasonably consistent. Now that I’ve been there, I would take some issue with these claims.
Let me explain.
First of all, the trip was in early December and it was ungodly hot with a commensurate amount of humidity. And, hey, I live in Merida where it is also ungodly hot and humid for most of the year, so this wasn’t a big shock to me. But, it was December, when even in Merida the temps cool appropriately for the season, so instead of 100-degrees F, it is only 85-90. January is even cooler, here, ranging in the 70s and 80s. Perfection!
Not so in Puerto Escondido. Of course, the city is a bit further south from Merida and on the ocean. Merida is on the Gulf of Mexico.
I had been to other Pacific coast tourist cities in Mexico, including Mazatlán, Puerto Vallarta, Manzanillo and Ixtapa, but Puerto Escondido is the furthest south I have been yet. (There is one more state further south, Chiapas. One day I hope to visit it as well. ) Some friends of mine vacationed in Huatulco, a city little further down the coast, and loved it. I have to say, however, that my experience in Puerto Escondido didn’t quite meet my expectations.
The Drama Part
The first thing that happened was that the airline (Volaris) changed my flights and forced me to travel a day ahead of my colleagues. I ended up staying in a “guest hotel” on the beach called La Coral. Don’t believe anything you read on this website! This place should come with a warning! “Not for the faint of heart!” The photos must have been taken a decade ago, as the building and grounds I saw was in desperate need or repairs and a coat of paint.
I arrived around 11 p.m. and found myself standing in front of a metal gate with a door bell and speaker. I asked the taxi drive to please wait until I entered before he left as I was totally unsure I was in the right place.
It was, however, and I the voice over the intercom instructed me to walk down a long path with two ramps down a hill to the top of the building where there was an office. Fortunately my carry on had wheels. The path was quite long and I would not have managed it had I had more luggage or something I had to carry the whole way. It was a very dark path with almost no lighting. At one point I started calling out “hello, hello, is anyone there?” This was a scene out of a horror movie in my mind. The entire time I thought someone to jump out at me at any moment and my lifeless body would be discovered days later washed up on the rocky shore.
Eventually I arrived at the building and located a woman who worked there. She and her husband, apparently, own the place.
The first discovery I made was that my reservation had been made for the wrong day. Ok, that was easy to solve. The second discovery was that I was booked into a room without air conditioning. The cost — $850 pesos (approximately $50 US) — was certainly cheap.
The room was located three floors below the office, which was at the top of the building. Three floors, no elevator. So, now I had to carry my carry-on down three flights of step in the dark. And here was my room.
When the woman opened the door we were hit by a blast of hot, humid air. If that wasn’t enough, the room was, well, not very nice. My first reaction was, “I can’t stay here.” To which the woman replied, “sure you can.” Such optimism!
Granted, it was only for one night. The room was not air conditioned and the only appointments were a window with no screen and a ceiling fan. My host handed me two small white towels, a roll of toilet paper and one of those tiny hotel soap bars. Welcome to Puerto Escondido!
To say I was horrified with this situation is to put it mildly.
Lyn and I used to joke that our idea of camping was the Holiday Inn. Tent camping, I assure you, is more glamorous than this place.
I didn’t have a choice about whether to stay or go, really, as it was now close to midnight and any attempt to leave would have meant walking back up the two ramps and along the dark path to get out. And then, of course, I had no idea where I was or what, if any, options I might have.
So, I did the best I could. I laid out the towels — one on the bed and one on the “pillow” (if you can call it that), and tried to relax. The sounds of the ocean and the humming of the fan blades eventually lulled my travel-weary body into a light sleep.
The sunrise a few hours later woke me. I stood briefly under the drip that was the supposed “shower” and then made my way back up to the roof. There was no restaurant or cafe, just an open patio with a garrafón of air-temp water and some paper cups. I asked about breakfast options and the owners pointed me back up the hill and down the road to where there was a small cafe. At least this time I didn’t need to lug my bag with me!
The Cafe
While the cafe wasn’t far, remember that I was on foot under a steamy hot sun. It was quite small and the service was terrible. I waited at least 10 minutes before I caught a server’s eye and was able to order a coffee and some eggs. That took another 30 minutes to arrive and was palatable, but nothing to speak of. The home-baked bread was like eating cardboard, although cardboard probably tastes better.
It was clear that this spot was frequented by expats and, I suspect, the “regulars” were treated a bit differently. Anyway, it was food, which I hadn’t eaten since the airport stop-over in Mexico City the day before.
I was quite sweaty (and still hungry) when I arrived back at the hotel.
After that I had some time to kill as my colleagues wouldn’t arrive until after 3 p.m., which was also the check-in time at the other hotel where all of us would be staying. My first option was to go down to the beach. It was a lovely stretch of sand and sea once you got past the swimming pool and water slide that hadn’t been maintained in ages. I was looking forward to getting in the water!
That idea, however, was quickly shot down once I stepped into the surf and got knocked on my ass by the current! I tried a couple of times and ended up with only a bathing suit full of sand and a bruised ego. Ultimately, I opted to just sit on the beach and read the book I had bought at the airport the day before.
As I sat there, I received an unexpected and delightful surprise: A stray dog wandered right up to me and laid his head on my feet. He was a very sweet boy and, if I had been closer to home, I may have adopted him right then (and been quickly murdered by the husband, but hey…). I sat there with him for as long as I could handle the heat, then returned to “check out.”
With check-out at 11 and check-in at 3, I still had a few hours to kill, so I put my bag in the office and sat on the rooftop patio with my book for the next several hours.
When the time came, I hoisted myself and my bag back up the hill, down the ramp, and walked the 10 or so blocks to the new hotel.
Again, quite sweaty and a little sunburned from the walk, I arrived at a very nice resort, Hotel Suites Villa Sol.
Upon my arrival, I was immediately escorted out of the hotel by the reservations clerk. Apparently, while I was walking, there had been an earthquake! I didn’t feel a thing! Protocols, however, are to go to the nearest “punto de reunion” and wait for the all-clear, so that’s what we did.
While there wasn’t any physical damage, some systems (wifi, etc.) were temporarily interrupted, but the hotel was finally able to check me in to a small, but very clean, air-conditioned room near the pool. As I was still waiting for my colleagues, I decided to get in a swim and a cocktail. Ah, at last, on vacation!
The rest of the weekend went off without a hitch. We had no concrete plans and set out to do as much nothing as we could fit in. I ended up sharing my room with one of my students, Monica, which was great. She is a delight and we were able to work on her English and my Spanish as a result. I did learn a few new expressions, but ones not to be shared in polite company!
We spent one day at a beach where the water was calm enough to swim, which was nice. It was also a boat harbor where many of the locals entice the visitors to go on dolphin watching and fishing excursions. Our goal was just to bob around in the water and soak up the sun. Unfortunately, it wasn’t walking distance from our hotel and we had to taxi over there and wind down a street with a plethora of trinket stalls to finally get to the water. It turned out to be a good thing since a couple of us didn’t have hats and needed to buy something to avoid getting fried by the blistering Oaxacan sun. Once there, we parked ourselves in a small outdoor restaurant and enjoyed a couple of drinks as well.
After a few hours, we headed back. There was a bit of a wait to get a taxi back, but ultimately we arrived and headed for dinner at the hotel’s “beach club” — the restaurant, pool and spa area right on the beach. The food and drinks were quite good and there was a shuttle to take us back and forth to the main hotel. Moni and I retired early while Charlie and Nora headed out to experience the local nightlife.
The next two days were very low-key. Other than going to the beach and pool, we just chillaxed and had margaritas and piña coladas and snacked on fries and nachos.
The only group thing we did was a night excursion to the the “Bioluminescence.” Apparently, due to the actions of the tides at certain times of year, a species of algae crosses over into the lagoon and create this affect. Basically, they “light up” when they are disturbed by possible predators. To see the effect, you move your hand around in the pitch black water until you find a patch that glows. You can swim with them, but I chose not to, given the fact that this is a lagoon with resident crocodiles. Besides, we had spent all day in the water and I wasn’t in the mood for a night swim.
Final Destination: HOME!
On Sunday we all headed back to the airport. My first flight was on time and I arrived in Mexico City around 3:00 p.m. Unfortunately, my flight from there to Merida was delayed by four hours, making my arrival home very late — 1:30 a.m.! Volaris did give me a $200 peso voucher for food, but you can’t get a coffee at the airport for that much, so dinner still cost me.
It was also FREEZING in the airport! With a seven hour layover, I was compelled to buy a sweater at way more than I would have otherwise spent on one. That said, however, it was a very nice sweater and I’m sure it will come in handy over the years.
Ultimately, I reached my final destination. There is just nothing like sleeping in your own bed! Good or bad, it is yours and familiar. And, of course, home is where my heart always is. Lyn, you are what I will always come home to! Thanks for always being there for me and for picking me up at 0-dark-30.
donnageisler.com 