gging 13 hour trip to get there.Normally I steer clear of long over night buses because I can never fall asleep on them and the zig zagging always gives me motion sickness. I was prepared this time however, with my own little nightcap cocktail, Benedryl and Brandy. I thought that would surely do the trick...
I was wrong. Still couldn't get to sleep, but that was probably a good thing in the end because it allowed me to meet Alli, a viberant Aussie from Sydney who was sitting across the isle from me. We got to chatting and I got to know her and her traveling companions. There was Tony, a 6 foot 6 inch real estate agent from north Sydney, who was having a very hard time sleeping as well considering, being packed into a small seat usually meant for a 5 foot 2 inch Mexican, his knee caps were covering most of his face. And then there was his sister Nat, not quiet as big as her bro and sleeping soundly in the next seat. Alli, Tony, and I chatted for a while and, as often happens while when travelers get to talking, we became instant friends and I ended up teaming up with them.
We landed in Puert
o a little after 1pm, we were lucky enough to have another three hours tagged onto the journey because of a traffic accident. We checked into the hotel Mayflower, or as it became known afterward, the Australian Embassy. Not kidding, there must have been 35 or 40 people staying there and, of that, 32 or 37 of them here Aussies. I didn't mind though, because, as a rule, Aussies are usually the friendliest, craziest, and coolest people on the backpacking circuit... second only to Northern Californians of course.We were elated to be there. Puerto sits on a bluff overlooking a cove and boasts a few nice beaches. We wasted no time in throwing on our bikinis and boardies and vamusing a la playa. In all honesty, the beach wasn't all that amazing, small and overcrowded, and the water, murky and with an unavoidable dead fish odor. It seemed to be a little devoided of surfers and would be partiers too. But we didn't care, we were just happy to be off the bus and spent the rest of the afternoon lying in the softening sunlight with intermittent dips in the calm surf.
That night, a team of us headed down to the next beach, Zicatela, where most of the night life was to be found. We had heard that Puerto was a little doggy at night and made sure to stick in a group as we walked the dark side streets along the beach. We stopped in at Bar Fly, supposed to be the hot spot that night. Then I figured out why the party vibe was lacking here. Bar Fly's idea of a party was to play Israeli techno cut with slow blues riffs and a video projection of a nature video with whales matting and dolphins sleeping on the dance floor wall. After a couple drinks and a few more matting montage the girls and I wanted to head home, but Tony, who was talking to a girl, decided he'd stay for a while. He returned home a few hours later and got in his sisters bed, visibly shaken and upset.
Apparently a guy had tried to start a fight with him after we left. They always seem to go after the big guys, some kind of a machismo thing I guess. Anyway, this guy, a local, was with his boys and kept telling Tony to hit him so he'd have a reason to 'kill' him. Nice. Tony, not one to shy away from anything, wasn't stupid enough to actually hit him, but didn't back down either. Just when it seemed like it was goin
g to get ugly, another local named Tarzan (I'm really not making this up) came flying in out of nowhere, took off his shirt, and told the other guy to back off. Apparently, Tarzan has some pull in these parts because the guy made a quick exit.Everything seemed to be OK after that, until Tony left the bar a half hour later to find the instigator waiting for him outside with a bunch of other thugs. Tarzan was nowhere to be found so Tony did the only sensible thing, he jumped into the back of a van with some other unknown locals and got the hell out of there. Turns out these locals were cool and dropped him off at the hotel without trying to fight him first.
The next couple days past without incident. We took a day trip to an amazing beach an hour south called Mazunte, wi
th a laid-back back-to-earth vibe, brilliantly clear (and clean) water, and good restaurants. We befriended a local barmen and spent the nights drinking acorpion flavored mezcal and dancing in his empty club. And, aside from a mild case of food poisoning-- my third time in my two months in Mexico, while I only got it twice in the other 6 months in all the other countries-- I had a great time. But, there was still a lot of Mexico left to see and I needed to get a move on. So, I booked a ticket on a night bus and said my goodbyes. Kinda of a bummer because now we had a big group, 20 or so people, and it looked like it was going to be an especially big night. I was right, but I'm really glad I didn't stay for it.Tony wrote me an email the following day explaining the ridiculous night that I was lucky enough to miss. First, everyone got drunk, no surprise there. Then, they went back to Bar Fly, a little bit of a surprise, but I guess they figured with this many people they'd be OK. Then everything went to hell.
Alli, always keen to get down a boggy, was drunk dancing without her shoes on next to a table and bumped into it, knocking over her beer and shattering it on the ground. She then proceeded to dance on the glass with her bare feet, slicing her heel up like provolone. She had to be taken to the hospital.
Then Lee, another Aussie chick from Perth, usually pretty good at holding her liquor, suddenly lost consciousness and couldn't be resuscitated. Someone had slipped a roofie in her drink and one of the other Aussie guys had to carry her home on his shoulders.
Finally, as everything was starting to break up, Tony and Ian, another Aussie, were walking home and stopped in at a bottle shop to get a couple tall cans for the road home. After they paid the clerk, he reached across the counter and opened their beers for them. Not normally done. Then, just as they set foot outsi
de the store, two cops jumped out of the bushes, grabbed them, and threw them in the back of a paddie wagon and drove off into the night. It had been a set up!They didn't tell them why they were being detained, where they were going, or anything for that matter. They pulled off the main road and drove down a dark ally and stopped the car. They came around the back and pulled both of them out and one started patting them down while the other looked around nervously. Tony and Ian were thoroughly freaked out at this point and didn't know what these cops where planning to do with them. After they had emptied their wallets and searched for any other valuables, they stood around for a moment more, as if they were contemplating something, and then with shake of the head, one of the policemen threw them back into the car and they took them to the police station.
Luckily enough, one of the other Aussies had seen them get grabbed by the 5.0 and went and got Chino, our friendly neighborhood bartender, to go up to the police station to get them out. They still had to pay
$100 bail, not including the money the police had already stolen. But, at least they were out, safe and sound, and now they could say they have been in a Mexican jail, both of whom seem proud of that fact.I'm not sure where I would have fit in had I been there. Doubt I would have been dancing bare foot or have been drugged, so I might have been in the back of that paddie wagon and then I could have said I've been in Mexican jail too. But, to be honest, I think I'm fine with my role as the storyteller. The lesson here is, like most creatures in the ocean, while somethings are pretty and look inviting (Puerto), they can also be dangerous and can get you into a lot of trouble if you're not careful.
1 comment:
booked a ticket on the next night bus? don't lie...you were back at the hotel with Tarzan 0:)
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