Zihou

Cruising up the coast was a breeze. No problems and nothing much stood out. Just you're usual crazy ride through the Mexican countryside. Rolling into Zihoutenjo was a bit of a downer. It has a good reputation as a cool beach town. Problem was we didn't see the beach or anything cool for that matter. Working our way to the centro we noticed many closed shops catering to tourists, the type we try to avoid. We had a particular hostel in mind and like so many times before a local on a bike had us follow him until we were close enough to find it.

Our hostel was slightly less appealing than most others but it was clean, cheap and had secure parking for the bikes. In fact, we rolled the bikes into a courtyard/lobby and they slept just outside our room window, along with three other bikes. Those bikes belonged to three younger guys who began their journeys separately but like that thing on one of the Star Treks they became one and were assimilated. They were cool guys who were eager to share their road stories just as we were eager to share ours. One of the guys hit a Canadian pedestrian the day before. It was the pedestrians fault but the biker ended up paying both medical bills. Neither was hurt badly, just cuts and bruises. The local paper got just about all the facts wrong including, the bikes were Harleys (not), the biker purposely laid down his bike in a valiant effort to avoid the pedestrian and then showed the wrong bike in the paper. Facts like appointments, traffic rules and building codes are a nuisance for Mexicans.

Later that evening we got out and walked around our new city. The shops were reopening after the afternoon siesta, a first for us in Mexico. This was the reason the town looked so dead when we first arrived. Street food vendors were prepping their fare and artisans were readying themselves for the hoards which were coming. In the main square all of this was happening while musicians were tuning their instruments for the evening concerts. In the background was a beautiful bay and the old city in the fore.

That night we ambled around the old town sampling street food (in Mexico this is an art form not to be missed), eyeing the crafts the hawkers shoved at us and stopping off occasionally for a cold brew. Like many other towns we've visited, the first night was a long one. A good time was had and a headache was sure to follow.

The next day started slowly as we didn't rise with the crowing cocks. When we did stumble out we were greeted by herds of pasty white, middle aged tourists rushing to spend their kids inheritance. After spending so many days amongst travellers, dealing with tourists can be a let down. You end up feeling a little embarrassed to come from the same country as those in the herd. It's a little hard to explain why but I'll try. Travellers are attempting to understand a culture and the country. We eat with the locals, struggle with the language, sleep in hotels that while clean a tourist would not. Tourists come in speaking English, buying up crap with the town name on it, look down their noses at the locals and go home to their friends and neighbors and speak as if they know something of the country they were in. Trust me when I tell you, that if you're cruise ship docks in a Mexican town, it is not Mexico. It is a Disney Epcot version of Mexico. Be a tourist if you like but do not believe for one moment you know anything of the people, culture or country you visited.

That night we had dinner with a couple from California whose company we very much enjoyed. I hope to see them again and if you read this, Hello and I'll email when I get back home.

In the end we enjoyed Zihou much more than we thought we would. I would have no problem returning, hopefully one day I will.

The next day we were planning to head North so we packed and inspected the bikes for departure.

Next the ride North.