In one direction it’s vacation casitas and rustic cabanas. In the other direction, there’s a handful of two story vacation villas, in various stages of completion. In every direction, but west, there are coconut palm trees.
In the west, the ocean lives. It rolls and breaks at one point, but is otherwise relatively flat. During the day, mellow waves steadily deposit woody bits of the inland along with all sorts of plastic refuse. It collects in piles that cover the beach. In front of enramada Illianet’s, to clear a path to the beach, they rake the wood in long piles and burn it throughout the night, giving the dark sand an even darker charcoal black finish in the morning. Here we talked to Mario, the short, stout, gruff overseer of the new two story casitas behind Illianet’s about renting the top floor with a gorgeous oceanview for the next week after making up our minds that it would be worth the extra pesos to spend the rest of our vacation in relative luxury.
When we return from a trip to Xtapa to get cash, I detect Mario’s grumpiness softening to something like indifference. He makes a point to introduce us to Humbert, who we talk into renting us boards for $10/day starting in the morning. That night the sun sets and cows, one burro, and ponies (real wild ponies! after some heated debates, even Nic had to eventually agree, these are wild ponies.) graze beneath the coconut trees.
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