My new cycling outfit

Brittaness-6, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Went to the secondhand store yesterday and came back with a killer bike outfit!

Guatemala

Guatemala started off at Tikal park, which was both amazing an annoying. The Mayan sites in Mexico are way cheaper (I believe 1/3 if I recall correctly) and way better marked. The map cost extra and did the museum, so I did without. I was low on money and the principal of the thing just bothered me. I loved Guatemala, but disliked the real touristy places. I found there people were just trying to rip me off, mislead me and in general treat me like a dollar figure, everywhere else, however, was great. After Tikal I hit Guatemala city, where I had an awesome host. It was really crazy cycling around the city as it is altogether huge, the main roads are more like highways and there is lots of traffic. One of the interesting features was that although it sat on a pleasures, there was rivers in the middle that formed deep gorges where houses went down, like ours would up a mountain.  One day I did take a bus & my bike and cycled around Antigua, which used to be Guatemala city. I was informed that Guatemala city has moved three times.  This is the first place I have ever been to where the sidewalks were in better cycling conditions then the roads. Not only were the roads old cobble stone, but some of them have huge folds and divers running the entire length of the road. From  Guatemala city I headed back north to Coban, where I had hoped to visit a community tea farm and processing area in order to get information for project in Kenya-JustTea- that myself and some others are trying to start.  The visit turned out to be a bust as I had hoped they processed by hand only to learn they didn't. It did however,  allow me to Visit Semic Chempey, which is a beautiful river. Of course I hit the not liking tourists destinations again here. I should mention that Antigua is a very touristy spot, but I didm't have any problems there. I did cycle around off the main track and had lots of smiles, but I think because tourists don't leave the hub. As I was misinformed that the last bus out of the closeted town left at 4:00, I asked for a ride from  a truck parked there who was headed back to Coban and agreed to take me. I got to han  out in the back of a pickup truck and use my smattering of Spanish.  I had tried to bus from Coban to the boarder, but spent over two hours searching for bus stations there and in Guatemala city. Thank goodness I had a friend in Guatemala city who would let me stay the night. 

Belize

I loved Belize. I found the people really friendly. And it was such a relief that people spoke English. Signs dubbed it the melting pot of races, which it is. Belize was a state in Guatemala, but it was given to the British in exchange for a highway, that was never built.  Britain's main interest in Belize was sugar cane (this I made up, but believe to be true). In order to run the sugar plantations, many black slaves were brought in. In addition to the Mayan indigenous people and the former black slaves (likely a lot from Jamaica) there is a lot of white people, some recent, some not. There are Normans and even an Amish village, these are all white people, I believe they have been there quite a long time, why though, I do not know.  There is also a lot of Americans, Canadians and Europenas who like to live there as Believe does not tax foreign income. There is also a number of Chinese people, who I am told own almost every single grocery store. At one point it was possible to simply buy a Belize citizenship, I believe when Hong Kong went back to Chinese ownership, the not-quite-so-wealthy Chinese moved there. I met a Black girl there named Judith who gave me a short lift in her truck. Her husband was Canadian from the island.. They were both     real estate an gents, both in Vancouver and Belize. And was there ever a lot of for sale signs. Not sure how the locals afford it. I also went to what they call the smallest best zoo in the world, which if it hadn't been so dear I would call awesome.

Politics in Honduras

Honduras is a mess. I met two French Canadians there, one of them told me that the store on the corner of his block had been robbed at gun point at 1:30 that day. Why is Honduras a mess? Well the last government had the audacity to ask the American companies to pay minimum wage, to follow the local laws concerning working conditions and to pay for things like electricity. So that government got kicked out by a coup d'êtat.  Of course now, due to instability, the American companies are pulling out of the country.  Not only is there lots of violence, but there are very few jobs and everything is very expensive. Nicaragua and El Salvador are 30-40% cheaper. The unemployment rate for university graduates is 30%, for us that would be like having thirty percent of all PHD graduates unemployed.  I have been told the country was way better prior to the American complies moving in. So when you see made in Honduras, know that the article in question is a small piece of a bigger picture that is ripping a country apart.  And if you are Canadian and smug, I am afraid that win't cut it. The fucking conservatives have been cutting funding to projects, though the NGO's belonging to Canadian mines have no trouble getting funding. Because after pillaging, kicking people off the land and hiring people to intimadate ( maimings and deaths do happen) it is always kind to toss a few peas their way in recompense.  I do not fly the Canadian flag. I am not proud of my country. The Canadian mines are a huge factor in this, but by no means the whole story. 

Chicken Bus

I took my first real chicken bus (el chickon) leaving Guatemala city for the boarder. I had taken a chicken bus before, but chicken bus can really be a chicken bus unless it follows theses rules: A chicken bus must once have been a school bus A chicken bus must be re-painted and silver hood ornaments are what the cool kids do A chicken bus must stop for people in the most absurd places A chicken bus's passengers for the most part must only be going a quarter or less, in fact a real chicken bus has less then three passengers going the whole route.   A chicken bus must have a constant stream of food sellers every 15 minutes or so A chicken bus must have someone come on begging for money A chicken bus must have a chicken bus preacher enter for part of the time A chicken bus must have some form of entertainers enter, be it singers or clowns A chicken bus must exude excessive amounts of pollution A chicken bus must have at least one driver and money collector A chicken bus must have music, either provided by the driver or someone's cell phone A chicken bus must always have someone who is asleep I caught an unofficial chicken bus when I headed to Coban. I went up there (back towards Tikal park) to visit a tea plantation. What most of you will not know is that while travelling, my father hooked me into an Afrian tea project that a family friend is trying to start up. The project is called Just-tea and it is a brain child that came about after a trip to Kenya. It seems that the tea farmers there do not make enough growing to to earn a living. The thing is that they do not process the tea, only sell the Un-roasted leaves to a large plant. I believe some of it is then processed in Kenya and is then sent to England to finish the processing (I am not sure if this is only scenting and packaging). The biggest industry in Kenya is tea, it is also the most corrupt with the most bribes. The idea is to set up small hand processing tea roasting so that the farmers will then have a more valuable product to sell. We are looking at finding markets in the west to sell the tea, and personally I am interested in trying to get an African market because I know in Ghana, aside from gunpowder green tea the Muslims (mostly old men) drink, the only tea is Lipton. Which of course is bought from England. I am told it is the same in Kenya. I of course also want to see empowerment and de-westernized practices set up. Anyhow back to the bus. I managed to sit next to a 24 year old girl who spoke perfect English. She had grown up next to an American missionary family. I had a great time chatting with her. I also went to the most beautiful river, Semic Chempey and did some cliff jumping. The tea place was a bust though, not only was the tour not in English (I had phoned to ask), but they processed the tea by machines and I could not even take pictures of them. My first real chicken bus was from Guatemala to the boarder. The advertised route ended up with me needing to take two buses. I pestered the driver several times as to why I had paid twice what the ticket said. He never did explain, but I did figure it out. Between those who buses we had three traveling preachers board us.  I took a short bus to old Guatemala city, Antigua, and it had two clowns. One with the most awful voice who would yell. I also had a clown board a city bus in Guatemala city. Guatemala city does have official city buses, but the only time I tried to take one was to get to the chicken bus station and I had my bike, so they would not let me on.  Today I took my first bus with actual chickens (chicks in boxes), but by virtue of it being a real bus and it having air conditioning, it was not a real chicken bus.

Tikal

Tikal is a magical place on the north east edge of Guatemala, right near the boarder of Belize. It was the most important Mayan city, though not the largest, which is hard to believe. The last photo taken from the highest pyramid shows the other three largest peaks, which is all that pops out of the jungle. I believe the three that are shown are relatively close together. I did not manage to see all the sites, but came pretty close, I showed up late in the day, in fact the guy at the door tried to get to come back the next day. Of course he little knew that I was really quick and would see more of the ruins that I suspect most visitors do. One of the great things about being late is that there were hoards of people leaving when I arrived and I mostly only saw people from one French group. But by the looks of the paths, a lot of the ruins are not visited. Gouging tourists is one thing they do, maps cost extra and the places were hardto figure out.

Belize

home coming

It has come to my attention that people don´t know when I am coming home.
I am home June 1st.

San Christobal

Chiapas-7, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.
So I have returned to the mountains. I am currently on a bus leaving San Cristobal and am headed to Palenque. Both of these places were suggested to me by Jesus, my CS host in Oaxaca. This route will take me further east and I will end up with a grueling 3 day cycle through Belize and end up in Tikal National Park in Guatemala. Tikal was recommended to me by Jesus and highly rated by Ginny one of my hosts here. From Tikal, I will take a bus to Guatemala city, then to the coast to start cycling again, almost immediately in El Salvador. I have very little time left and lots of places to go, but I am determined to make it.

I was just about to tell about my adventures here, when I was by some children who were interested in my iPad. The girl who is about three wanted my valentine, a blue heart with a cat given to me by a CS hosts's daughter. So of course I gave it to her. The older one who is nine wanted to hear music, her name is Elisa Leanna. They are headed to Cancun to the beach. It seems I have some friends for the ride. The older two are behind and the younger one next to me, sometimes sitting, sometimes standing. Cheap buses are the best way to travel! As I pass Forrest's of ponderosa pines, I will recount my incredible day yesterday.

On the advise of Mark, one of my hosts I headed to two indigenous towns 7-9 km outside of town. Up & down some good hills, but no panniers, so the ride was pretty easy. The first town I went to was called Chemul. When the Spanish came, they fought them and have retained this sort of stance to this day. The main attraction is the church, where oreif you take pictures you can be sent to jail. There was a lot of tourists in town, one bus full entered the church not long before I left. But the church is what I need to try and describe.

Of course descriptions are impossible. I was told prior to going there was pine needles on the floor. I was also told they practice animalistic rituals and live squirrels waved in the face is a cure for something. I did not see any squirrels, though I did discover a lady with a chicken. But let us start at the beginning. Walking in the door, the visitor is immediately accosted with smoke from maybe 1000 candles. There are no pews in this church. Instead on the tiled floor is sections of rows of candles and pine needles around this. Kneeling on the floor are the villages, way more then any church I have happened to enter yet, maybe 20 or 30. What I realized when I entered is that this was an extremely holy place. One of the more spiritual places I have ever visited. It is certain that whatever form of Catholicism they practice they are extremely devout and earnest n their prayers. They all enter and rather then pray towards one of the sainting, they kneel in front of a set of candles. They mostly appealed to be in groups. Their worship included drinking, mostly pop, though I did see one bottle of tequila. I am uncertain if this was a form of communion or not. As I was leaving there was a local procession of about six guys, who were following a guy with a guitar. They were followed by a bus of tourists. After about one song they stopped, then joined the kneeing group.

After the church, I went for a quick cycle around the town, may as well see some more then is usually seen. Then I went to check out the artist/tourist market. I went up a side street rather then going along the main tourist drag. I managed to get a great deal on a shirt, the lady asked half of what the others were asking (my hosts agreed). I also bought a little purse, grey with red pom-poms. I had been needing one most of the time because only my skirt and not my dress has pockets (I always keep my wallet & passport on me). The last thing I bought were three very cute tiny stuffed animals out of wool. I then headed up hill to the next village, Zinacatan.

Well it turned out to be uphill, then back down hill again, because of course! I rode around town a little. I had been told that this village had the most colourful clothing to be seen. Mostly seen in the young girls, though some of the men also sported great outfits. I was checking out the stalls here, they were fairly different. I almost made it out of the town without buying anything, but then I was accosted by two young girls. They were maybe eight and ten, they asked me if I had seen, I had no clue what, but of course the answer was no. Because who can resist two very cute little girls? So I let them take me to what turned out to be their mother's store. I had three problems, one I liked the shawls a lot, two I had very little money on me and three, I really has no space in my bag. But who cares for space? Anyhow, I was checking out the wool shawl/capes, but the ones in ladies sizzles were mostly in pink or black. But then I saw a great one, with avocado and a red stripe in the warp, the embroidery was a slightly less colourful, but very lovely-not that I didn't want colour, the turquoise and the bright red ones were for young girls. The young girls stayed around and helped their mother selling me stuff. It was so cute. The price was the exact amount of money I had left, minus the small change. After I had purchased it, the lady Marie Santiago, I believe it was, took me back to her house for lunch. It consisted of the most delicious corn tortillias, black beans, a goat cheese that tasted like feta and hibiscus juice. It was brilliant! I was also told I got a good deal, but of course the hearty welcome and incredible hospitality would have made a not great bargain a good deal anyhow.
When I returned to my host that night, I was told that fashion in Zinacatan is very unusual for indigenous people. Most of the groups have worn the same outsit time out of mind, not so for Zinacatan. In Zinacatan the outfits chance every six months. There is a coming out, everyone shows off their best designs and the winner is copied by the whole village and this is worn for the next 6 months every day. So what is sold to tourists is the old outfits. I was told mine was an old one, from about 6 years ago. this is the time span where they stopped doing the embrodery entirely by hand and started using a sewing machine (still what we would call hand made) it looks like it is possible mine is both machine and hand-done. All the young girls are certain to chnage and I am told that you can tell the older women´s ages by the outfit style they have got stuck in.

Oaxaca-10

Oaxaca-10, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

My new outfit

Oaxaca-34

Oaxaca-34, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Me in Monte Alban

Oaxaca-28

Oaxaca-28, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Monte Alban

Oaxaca-25

Oaxaca-25, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

monte Alban

Oaxaca-18

Oaxaca-18, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

A fountain at the San Pablo Cultural Centre

Oaxaca-14

Oaxaca-14, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

The chocolate store!
I think I am in love.

Oaxaca-13

Oaxaca-13, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Francisco Toledo's stain glass window in the Cultural center of San Pablo

Oaxaca-10

Oaxaca-10, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Work by Jose Luis Garcias seen in the children's library

Guayasamin

Guayasamin

Heimo Schmidt

his website

His work was on the cover of a Mexican art magazine and his work was so striking I had to find more.

Fanny Rabel

wiki

A Mexican Muralist and painter, I found a book on her in Toledo`s library. There were some really striking and lovely pieces of lonley women.

Mark Bradford

wiki

an American artist also found in the same book as the other`s in Toledo`s library

Moris (Isreal Meza Moleno)

view more of his work

street artist out of Mexico City, I also discovered his work in a book in Toldedo´s house gallery library.

Swoon (female street artist NYC)

wiki

I found her name while flipping throught an art book in the Toledo house gallery

Jose Luis Garcia

Jose Luis Garcia is a local ceramists who uses earthenware with coloured slips which he then burnishes. I first saw a large tile piece at the children`s libaray and I have noticed his work creep up all over town. I am pretty sure that the signs for the different rooms in the textile museum were done by him.

not much in the way of links to him I could find
guess this is something

Fransisco Toldedo

his website

Cycling again

I am in Oaxaca. But I suppose a re-cap on how I got here is in order, as recently I only posted photos.

day 1   80km (leave Acapulco)
day 2   120 km
day 3    130-140 km
day 4    60 km (arrive Puerto Escondido)
day 5    20 km then I hopped a bus

The first day I bought a new camera. Another cannon, but the next level up and this one works way better then the last one. I also had a great breakfast of mexican eggs that my CS host Michelle made me. I had a late start and got on the road at around 1. I think I wrote a bit about this. That night I slept by the side of a dirt road near los Vigas Caridad (I think).  I did have the famer drive by at night waking me up and scaring me silly, I thought I was going to be run over. Of course I was not in the road, but when you wake up suddenly, these things are not apparent.

The next day I rode 120 km. I stopped in Marquellia on the way, used the internet and went to the beach. I had a nice swim in the Ocean and then met a group of people who were hanging out there for the day. The rasafarian guy thought I was very cute, and tried to talk to me, though he didn´t speak a word of english. One of the girls there did, she is also starting to learn french and was excited that I spoke some. From there I cycled to Cuajinicuilapa (crazy long names), which is a moerdate sized town/ small city. After I set up my tent in the main square, the police came by and told me to move it a few meters and up to the top of the pagoda (Most small city squares have one) for saftey. Of course this was great until some time in the night/ early morning when the guard chnaged and the new guys woke me up and wanted to know about me. I believe I told them I was Canadian and headed to Puerto Escondido before rolling over and putting an end to further conversation.

The next day was a hard one. It started off with some good climbs and I had to stop way sooner then I planned because I had hit a wall. After an internet break, I started again. I still wasn´t so happy, but about 1km in I found myself another mango tree! Huzzah! And then finally a breeze (wind) kicked in. Some of it was headwind, but as it cooled me down some, I did not mind. I then climbed my last big hill of the day into the town of Santiago Jamiltepec. This was where I had intended on having my mid-day rest / interest use. I stopped for water and quite a few pictures because it was a really cute town. It appareared to be fairly wealthy too, I am not sure why, sitting at the top of a big hill like that. I ended my day, pushing myself to cycle 130ish km to find myself at a beach in a national park Chacahua. I went for an ocean swim right at dusk, which was when I arrived. I then went and bought dinner at a taco place, as there only small store in town was closed. It was really cheap anyhow. Well the food was cheap, the mosquito bites I aquired in those 10-20 minutes have cost a fair bit in sleep loss and anti-itchying cream

The next morning I woke up and went for a swim, then packed up. Just as I was getting ready to head out, I met a guy named Brook from Oregon. He is currently living with a family in the village and fishing, when not surfing. He invited me back to the families house for fish and torillias. The biggest corn tortillas I have yet eaten. I am the biggest fool for not having taen any pictures. They had dogs and chickens running around wild, a rustic house and a nice outdoor kitchen set up. I then headed out for what should have been an easy day. But I was tired, and waas staring to get a sore throat. When I got to Puerto Escondido, I jumped straight into the ocean and would have fallen alseep there if I could have. I got ahold of my CS host, ate some Tamales and then tried to go to bed early. Only I didn´t sleep until maybe 2am or later, as I was so itchy. It was warm too, but just lying there, not scratching and being itchy was too much stimuli to allow me to sleep.

The next morning I headed out after a breakfast of fried bananas. I had bought the large bananas the day before and discovered they weren´t that great raw. I started out on what I knew was going to be a good climb. I found my road, though I discovered I had the distance incorrect. Not that there was a sign, but in Mexico, the km markers count down one way, and up the other, so rather then being 200km, it was 240. I had planned on a two day cycle, yes I knew it was going to be a good climb, but I figured if I needed to take a bus the last 40km or so it would be fine. I had planned on making it in two days. I start out and the going is tough. Making the 10km marker was a lot of work. But I was optomistic, it was only one sixth or one eighth (I cut down my distance ideal) of what I needed to make. By the 20km the reality had hit, I was dead tired and going way too slow. I had to convince myself I was feeling sick and not chichening out on hills, as I am all too apt to do (Just ask my mother). I took a local openback truck conviance to the next town and from there I caught a minivan bus to Oaxaca. What I cluded into was that my last host drank the tap water in Puerto Escondido, which I did as well. The fact that after buying and drinking 3/4 of an ice tea, I could not stomach any more for the next 3-4 hours lead me to the belief I had also been making myself somewhat sick from my damned water.

But in the eand it was a great idea to take the bus. The road was mostly terrible and is there ever mountains. I think getting down might actually take me 3 days. At first there was tropical rainforrect climate, then it turned to arid weather with lots of ponderosa pine trees. The road was curves alsmost the whole way.  When I got to Oaxaca in the evening, I called my couch surfing (CS) host who was willing to have me a day early. I really need to go as he is showing me atround town and it the tour is great!

Biking again-25

Biking again-25, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Cotton tree

Biking again-24

Biking again-24, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Campsite looking the other way

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Biking again-22, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

last night's campsite

Biking again-21

Biking again-21, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Motor taxis. They are 3-wheelers. I saw one for the first time today in a small town.

Biking again-19

Biking again-19, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Biking again-18

Biking again-18, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Biking again-15

Biking again-15, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Biking again-8

Biking again-8, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Sunrise

Biking again-7

Biking again-7, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Lillie's at the edge of a lake

Biking again-6

Biking again-6, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Very sturdy boats. Though I suppose if you can't drown it does. It matter so much.

Biking again-5

Biking again-5, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

I saw several sets of bee hives, at least that is what I believe them to be. I have yet to actually see the bees.

Biking again-4

Biking again-4, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Jesus says lots for sale

Biking again-3

Biking again-3, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

Laundry in a river. All the rivers I have seen have Ben shallow, between ankle and chest deep from what I have seen of people in them.

Biking again-2

Biking again-2, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

All is not milk & honey

Biking again

Biking again-1, a photo by thebaconfairy on Flickr.

A village just south of Acapulco. I believe the main industry in the area is feeding tourists. It is about 15-20 minutes south Acapulco (the southern side over the hill) and I have never seen so many people touting menus vying for customer's as here. They left me alone, tending to just give me confused looks.

Acapulco-Mexican resort town

What were my impression of Acapulco?
Well it struck me as an impression of Califonria. Everything is big, splashy and western. Well most things. There is a hardrock cafe, senior frogs (complete with line ups), walmart and goodness knows how many other things. I got the impression that this is where Mexicans come to have holidays. Well the rich Mexicans at least. There is a waterpark right on the strip close to where my host Michelle worked. I asked if it was fun, but she said at $25USD it cost too much for her. At night there are horse drawn carts and plenty of people milling about on the main boulevard. It is maybe 20-40 blocks long, with palm trees running down the middle of the road.
I went for a swim in the ocean. It looked brown, but you know, sand is brown, so whatever. The area for swimming only went out about 20m (I went further of course) but I did not stay out long as I realized I was slimey from the water. Gross! I asked why the water was like that and Michelle told me they say it goes that way when there is too many people- which is not true. Firstly very few people were actuall in the water, more people were on jet skis, second people do not cause this. I don´t know if was polution or a natural phenomenom of plankton or something. Needless to say I was not impressed.

Leaving town I climbed a huge hill that had all the posh night clubs. When I got to the other side I hit the rivh resort side. It was really pretty here, much quieter and the gingo side by the looks of it. The fairmont was on the golf course over here. I didn´t go in the ocean there, but I bet it was nicer.

What I did love was the market. I love markets, particualrly in poor countries. This one was huge and hustling, all my heart could desire. I even bought my first souvenir, but it is a present for Thomas.

And I bought a new camrea as I killed mine. I think I also killed my phone and the touch screen on my ipod no longer works (not sure if it can be fixed).

I am on my way to Puerto Escondido and then to Oaxaca city.

What ever floats your boat sinks your tent

It seems I have bad luck with water and camping in Mexico. I was in El Tomo two nights ago. I set my tent up next to a beach clothing stand and some fishermen's boats. The stall was being covered up for the night, so I set my tent up. I started reading in my tent, but noticed my neighbors were having trouble with their tent. The poles all connect to a central and and they had been trying to get them in after having attached the other poles to the tent already. As we had a language barrier, I simply Un-hooked the pole pegs from the tent and the last pole went into the central connector with no trouble. Yippee for years of tent building. I went back to my tent and kept on reading on my iPad when all of the sudden I was wet. A huge wave came and went throughout my tent. I had puddles everywhere. My cell phone which I had out as an alarm clock was sitting in a puddle. My camera was out as the pictures I tried to take of my campsite didn't work well in the twilight. I had two huge puddles in my tent, at the front and back. My thermarest was soaking wet and parts of my sleeping bag were damp. I also had a bunch of clothes that had been damp out and they were wet too. I pulled my tent back along the beach, then built a small barrier. I emptied the puddle in the front, but left the back one as also my stuff was out and I wanted to go to sleep. I put my sweater on, which thankfully was only wet in the sleeves. With that and my practically wet sleeping bag, I was warm enough to sleep. I slept until just before dawn, some fishermen took the boat out fishing that I had originally been set up next to. I packed up my wet camp, discovering that my iPod, which had worked the night before somehow had ended up in a puddle during the night at the momment the tough screen does not appear to be working, but maybe it might fix itself. At least my passport stayed dry, my skirt which held it was very wet, but luckily that pocket was dry. I know from experience wet passports are frowned upon. My saving grace was having a couch surf set up in Acapilco. I was on the bus all day, but managed to make it here.

Palapas

I am in Manzanillo right now. I was searching for a place to free camp. There was a polapa right next to the spot I choose. One of the guys told me to come over and join them. I was welcome to sleep in their palapa with them. I met an American guy named Micheal who was also living there, he's a couch surfer too. He does have an apartment, but prefers to sleep at the beach. I am currently a block down at the the community house using Internet! So they invite me over, for dinner they  serve me fresh cooked fish and prawns from the BBQ. The prawns were unreal! I hope I will get some more tonight. I also got a coconut with milk. They sell the coconut milk, as well as the fish. They have places all over town where the pick free coconuts, bananas and pineapple. They also make and sell drums. Below are picture of our fire, the drummers and one of the guys spinning fire. I seem to have awesome luck on this trip!