Yet another amazing beach this weekend, so amazing that we decided to skive off work en-masse and stay for Sunday night and Monday too. We were sleeping in a hut on the beach, about 20 metres from the sea, and despite it being freezing on the first night, sand getting everywhere, and as always having to top-and-tail it, it was one of the best weekends I’ve ever had. We stayed on a campsite, which turned out to be the place that travellers and hippies hang out in the town of Sayulita. The result of this was that everyone was really friendly.
We decided that since it’s seven hours from where we live, it would be more sensible to get an overnight coach, and set 2.30 as the time (having been told about a coach that leaves then). It turned out that the 2.30 coach was a) not at 2.30, but 3.30, and b) far too expensive. We ended up kicking around that the new bus station (where all the cool kids hang out) and getting a much cheaper bus at 4. Whilst this meant that we didn’t get into Sayulita until lunchtime, it did mean that we had far more money left for beer, which is always a bonus.
Tucker and I managed to walk along the beach straight past our campsite and to idiotically keep walking for about an hour (it must just be a bit further) until we actually left Sayulita and ended up in the next cove. Once we realised that this really was too far, we plucked up the courage to ask the woman who was obviously staying in the one tent on this very secluded beach where we were. She replied that it was basically a private beach (beaches can’t be private in Mexico, the government owns all coastal land, but people just close off the only access routes), but that since she was allowed to be here, and she liked us, she would let us use the road to get back. This turned out to be far harder than climbing through the forest that we had used the first time, and we ended up making a dash for it through someone’s back garden. Not the smoothest of entrances, but it at least gave us a story to tell.
After settling in to the campsite and grabbing some food, we all got vaguely unpacked and hit the beach for some serious Frisbee, volleyball, swimming, and all manner of other beachy things, before finally going out to somewhere slightly more fancy for Martine’s birthday, and returning to our hut for the obligatory drinking games. We also made a camp fire, evoking the usual Neanderthal attitude towards fire from most of the lads, and the usual tutting and eye-rolling from the lasses. Never mind. By about 10.30 everyone was determined to stay for Monday as well. Moving from the fire to the sofas in our hut was a natural progression, as was the progression from ring around the fire to ring of fire — what a game!
After waking up relatively early the next morning, Danny and I pissed of to the town half an hour away that is, in fact, the nearest cash point. We arrived back at about midday, and everyone except Tucker, who was resolutely and completely battered the night before, had woken up and were finding food or lying on the beach. Yet another day of beachiness ensued, the only difference being that we were much more careful not to lose our second and only remaining Frisbee to the rip-tide. By about two there was a serious flaking off home and working on Monday contingent forming, and after last night’s fervour, only six of us ended up staying.
I for one am very glad I stayed! It was another standard night of drinking games and giggling, but it was well worth staying for. After more Ring of Fire, and then some truth or dare, Tucker was the first to pass out, followed by Danni, leaving the last four of us to go and get some tacos, and then gracefully fall asleep, three in a bed top and tailing downstairs, and me upstairs as the only one who was sober enough to climb a ladder.
Once again we woke relatively early, pissed about on the beach, this time acquiring some friendly hippies with whom we played some bizarre pre-colombian version of Hackey Sack, and we left earlyish at about 3 so that we could get buses home rather than pay for taxis. Finally, after some more tacos, we got home to sleep and prepare for the next hard 4 hour long day at work. Life is hard.
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Let’s see some Mexican beach pictures from the famous photographer!!
What exactly is a pre-columbian version of hackey sack? How is it different to any other version? Photos preferable
Pre-columbian Hackey, although I have no photos, is a leather hackey stuffed with something very light, and with feathers sticking out of the top to make it always fall in the same direction, a bit like a shuttlecock. And you’re only allowed to hit it with… your elbows. A game that makes one wonder if the pre-columbians had far to much free time, and spent far too much of this far too much free time far too high. Good fun though!
Hey Dave, this campsite with huts on the beach sounds amazing. do you recall the name of the place? I’m heading there in February.
The name of the town is Sayulita, you can get the bus there from pretty much anywhere, there’s only one campsite as far as I remember! Hope you find it, it was a pretty amazing place.