TravisAshby01

Notes from Nayarit Part One – Day-tripping to La Peñita – November 26, 2003

“Sayulita has nothing for me.”

That phrase has been rolling around in my head for a while now. It’s how I imagine a Mexican man might describe my feelings toward this town.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trashing Sayulita. A lot of people love Sayulita and I can see why. The setting is spectacular. It’s easy to get to from PV. The town is a nice comfortable small size. It has a handsome plaza and a magnificent beach. There are plenty of beautiful places to rent. And I don’t doubt for a second that it offers great food. That said, it also has a large ex-pat population and lots of surfers. I have nothing against either group. I was born in a beach town in Southern California and even did a little surfing myself when I was young. And that is probably, exactly the problem. I grew up with these people. I don’t want to spend my time in Mexico with them. Everyone gets to define their own slice of Paradise. Sayulita isn’t mine. Enough said.

Instead of waiting till tomorrow which was my original plan, after breakfast I decide I’ll day-trip up to La Peñita to see if it’s more to my liking. I cab to Highway 200 for 25 pesos. I’m standing alone on the highway. There’s nothing here, no building or bus stop, just a large shoulder where a bus could pull over. Four buses blow past me in the first 30 minutes, despite my attempts to flag them down. (A couple of them were first class busses that I don’t really expect to stop here…but one or two of them were the Pacifico line that I think should pick me up. The buses are coming through here pretty hot though, around 50 miles per hour, so maybe they’re not bothering for a solo traveler.) Oh well, at least there’s a little shade. A couple of Mexican hitchhikers on their way to Guadalajara join me and bum a cigarette. Good. Maybe the extra bodies will help. Or maybe they know the secret code for hailing a bus. Then a family of three join us. Excellent. We’ve achieved critical mass. Sure enough, the next bus decides it’s worthwhile and pulls off the highway into la parada.

The bus to La Peñita, 20 miles or so, costs 25 pesos and the scenery is very lush along the way. I don’t ever recall seeing Mexico so green. I guess I’m in Mexico during the winter most times when things have dried out. After getting off the bus and walking down La Avenida in La Peñita, I know I’ve done the right thing. Here’s a shot of what the roads in Nayarit look like this time of year, followed by a shot of the main street in La Peñita.

In LaP, “La Avenida” is the main street, about eight blocks long, running perpendicular to the beach and highway and separating the two. It is broad with a tree-filled meridian running down the length. There are benches and tree circles on the meridian also, perfect spots for grabbing a bit of shade and watching the world go by, two of my favorite things to do in Mexico.

I’ve arrived around 11 in the morning, all the shops are open, and I recognize immediately that this is where I want to spend the rest of my vacation. The town appears fairly prosperous though not fancy. The Mexican to gringo count looks to run about 20 to 1. Perfect. Here are some shots I took walking around La Peñita.

I didn’t knock on the door of that last one…

After walking around for a bit, I set out for the house of Tom Plattenberger. Tom and his partner Bruce own a house here, shuttling back and forth between this and their other home in Alaska. Tom also runs a message board devoted to the area, worked with Jared developing its first good map, and helped me out with lots of questions pre-trip. I have a soccer ball and a frisbee to deliver to him. (There is a party/benefit tomorrow night where some of the local community are donating toys to be distributed among the area kids to make for a ¡Feliz Navidad! I may or may not go to this party, and want to deliver the toys in case I don’t. Plus it’ll lighten my bag for the trip back up here.)

I get to their house and as I’m summoning the courage to approach – sounds weird I know but I’m pretty shy – Tom calls down from the balcony. “Are you Travis?” “Yes. Are you Tom?” (I’m semi-expected to show up here at some point on some day, but this greeting still surprises me.)

Tom shows me around their house, Casa Libertad, and it’s pretty great. Not spectacularly luxurious, but totally comfortable. It’s a house with integrity. Great front porch. Nice large rooms. Big wide doors and windows to capture the abundant breezes that come in from the beach right across the street. And the best part, a large deck accessed via the second floor overlooking la playa. We sit, have a beer, and make chat. Turns out Tom has even scouted around town, looking for a possible place for me (and others, no doubt…) to rent. (How nice is that?) I think Tom likes to put people and places together, and over various e-mails, he’s gotten a pretty good sense of who I am. (Again, La Peñita isn’t all that touristy. It has a few hotels, some private homes that can be rented but have to be pre-arranged, and bungalow-type places that I imagine are pretty hit and miss. Frankly, from the outside, the hotels look to be that way, too. And I have no reservations.) Tom shows me the business card of a place that’s located right in the center of town. He says it looks nice, is only a year old, and appeared to be pretty empty when he visited a few days ago. So I might even have my choice of rooms and be able to negotiate on the price. My entirely unannounced visit isn’t too timely however, Tom and Bruce have things to do, so I leave giving them thanks and go scout the rental. It’s called Bungalows Sol del Mar. Here’s a pic of the sign hanging outside:

I head toward Bungalows Sol del Mar, which is located about a half block off La Avenida in the center of town. Before arriving, I have two small back-of-mind concerns about this place. Will it be loud since it’s right in town? And, since I know it won’t have air conditioning, will I be able to buy a breeze? I doubt I’m going to run into any English-speakers here… we’ll see how it goes…

I arrive and it looks good from the street. Nothing fancy, but inviting. I’m a little confused by the gate, spot a young girl, and ask her if the “Oficina” is this way? She says it is. Here’s what it looks like as I approach:

No one’s in the office, so I begin dealing with the little girl, who’s around 11 years old. Shortly she’s joined by a young woman in her twenties, someone I would later learn is the housekeeper. I try communicating in my bad Spanish, saying I’m traveling alone and would like to see a room. (Tom had told me I might be able to squeeze a little English out of the girl, that she knows some, but whatever she knows she’s not offering to me. Maybe she’s shy, or reluctant to use English with a gringo she’s never seen before.) The girl looks at me with a confused expression. We struggle a bit. When I finally make myself clear that I’m traveling alone and looking for a room just for me…she slowly points to a much-less-inviting-looking hotel across the street.

(Bungalows Sol del Mar looks spotless here in the courtyard….and I don’t see anyone else around….and Tom mentioned that it’s pretty new and I might just have the run of the place. Tom also mentioned that none of the rooms are really designed for one person, that the rates go up, naturally, for larger parties etc., more people, more pesos. Totally normal. Still, I know that if the place has a bunch of empty rooms—it looks like there are about twelve total -- I have a bit of an upper-hand. So I persist.)

After the girl and I hit the wall, with her digging her heels in a bit, she finally calls down the “boss”. Here comes Mom from the apartment upstairs. Good, now we’re getting somewhere. The little girl explains the situation to her mother. I’m the opposite of fluent, but I imagine she said something like, “This fool wants a room only for himself and he won’t leave until he sees one.”

Mom gives me the once over and—so wisely—asks, “How many nights?” In my clipped Spanish, I blurt out that I don’t need the room starting tonight, just looking, but that beginning tomorrow night I’ll need it for seven. Mom tells the girl to go get a key and show me a room.

Now we’re in business.

The little girl shows me a room on the bottom floor. It is immaculate, looks comfortable, and is totally acceptable. The girl points to the two double beds and sleepable couch in the living area and says something like, “See you idiot?!? Cuatro personas!” I notice though that there is nothing in the room by way of a kitchen. And I don’t really want to be on the bottom floor, thinking I’d get more breeze upstairs.

Back in the courtyard. I ask mom if she has anything with a cocinita. She says yes. I don’t need much but a fridge would be nice along with some way to make coffee. Mom orders the little girl to show me a different room. Mom understands that I’m not leaving — or coming back with pesos – until I see what I want.

The little girl leads me upstairs and I’m shown what must be the Presidential Suite. There’s a living room plus full kitchen and bathroom as well as two bedrooms, both with two double beds. While showing me the rooms, the little girl crosses her arms and says with a bit of a snark “Ocho personas!” (Yeah, yeah, I get it, sweetheart….let’s just get through this difficult period…I swear you’re going to like me in a couple of days….) This room, number 20, even has a small patio/terrace overlooking the street, is on the 2nd floor with two exposures for extra ventilation. ¡Excelente! (Truthfully, the rooms are quite simple and even a bit spartan, but they’re so clean I’m sold. And I have no desire to spend the next few hours walking the streets of La Peñita in mid-day heat to not find anything better. Here are some shots of the place. I forgot to open the curtains blocking the afternoon sun, so unfortunately the shots are a bit dark.)

I go back downstairs and start negotiating with Mom. (At this point, several other members of the family have surfaced. All told, if memory serves, I’m surrounded by grandmother, mom, the little girl who has been joined by her younger sister, and the housekeeper. Thanks to my alien Spanish, I’m being conversationally tag-teamed.) I let mom know that I would like that room, number 20, starting tomorrow night. With a nod to diplomacy and mending fences with the little girl, I acknowledge to her that yes, the room is a bit “grande” for just one person, but that’s the one that I want. Mom and I haggle a bit. She quotes me a price, I frown, we do a little back-and-forthing and settle on $250 pesos per night.

$25 US bucks a night, actually less than that, including all taxes? I feel like high-fiving them. This will make leaving Sayulita a day early – and forfeiting a nights rent – that much easier.

I toss some ¡Hasta Mañanas! their way as I head out the door. I walk half a block and then remember I have some candy in my day-pack. I return and, with mom’s permission, offer the little girl and her sisters (now there are three girls) some candy. More fence mending.

Did I mention the place also has a nice new sparkling pool? Perfect for cooling off when you’re not under a palapa on the beach?

I’m really happy. I celebrate with one of these after a swim on the beach.

After spending the rest of the day walking around La Peñita, I head back to Sayulita. My transport back goes flawlessly. Bus drops me off at the highway turnoff for Sayulita. I could walk in to town, but it’s a mile or two and it’s still hot and a bit muggy. And I’m feeling lucky. Sure enough, a couple minutes later a small pickup truck turns off, heading into Sayulita. I wave. They spot me. I run. After jumping in the back of the truck, a couple boxes of bananas and I arrive in Sayulita in minutes. Despite my protests and a couple of “Por favors?”, the driver will accept nothing but my thanks.