Oaxaca was a slap in the face from the slow paced beach life on the coast. My journey was a mess from the get go. Sandy, my host, had told me that I would be able to catch a taxi at 4:30 in the morning into town to catch the collectivo van to Oaxaca. So I pack up my now small-child sized backpack, and headed out the highway in the dark. The only things awake were the darn roosters and me. I was hoping that something would happen, but when I saw a group of 8 slightly tipsy college students walking up the road towards the next town I knew there were no taxis. So I heaved on my backpack and started walking after them. Just as I was catching up a Nissan pick up truck pulled up and the students hail him to pick us up. The timing was perfect. We all piled in, and rode Chicano style into Puerto Angel. They all jumped out, but I still needed to get 20 mins further inland to Potchutla. My luck had it that this fella was going that way anyway, and took me directly to the bus station right in time to catch the 6am bus to Oaxaca. He was so kind.
This was my first time taking a collectivo bus, but Sandy told me it was the better way to go because it was about 3 hours shorter. It went directly over the mountains, and down into the valley where Oaxaca sits. It was a torturous bus ride. Still recovering from some bad seafood the night before I was sure those switchbacks were gonna get me.
Apart from the twisting road the journey was beautiful. The advantage of taking such an early morning bus is seeing the sun rise over the sierras. Then as the sun came out fully seeing the hazy morning down in the valley. The road cuts directly through some of these small towns, and I am always surprised how they can build houses right into the sides of mountains. They look like one heavy rain would carry them away. However, I bet their sunrises and sunsets are worth the risk.
No comments:
Post a Comment