A Journey

CHIAPAS

2011-05-12T11:09:00.000-07:00

Our first week of Semana Santa or Easter as it is called in most other countries was spent backpacking trip through one of the poorest states in Mexico, Chiapas. Chiapas is one of the states with the highest native Indian populations in Mexico, and here evidence of a much poorer, much simpler Mexico exists. The state is blessed with natural scenery on par with some of the most beautiful places in the world, huge waterfalls, rivers so clear and blue they make your eyes hurt and one of the country's most treasured archaeological sights, the Mayan ruins of Palenque, is situated deep in the heart of the jungle. Indian villages line the roads in the mountains, and mothers and their children stand out like colourful wildflowers with their beautiful traditional clothes as they walk from their houses into towns to sell their art and crafts.

During this week I saw too many beautiful things to write about, but it was not just the awe inspiring natural scenery that made my heart flutter, no, the people of Chiapas are even more beautiful than the amazing places they call home. To me, in Chiapas exists a different kind of Mexican to the ones found in the capital city or those living on the Coast, to the ones you see in the cliche 'western' or action packed 'war on drugs' movies, where every second Mexican is a gang member and there is more cocaine in the country than tortillas. I do not mean to undermine the problems this country has, because evidently there are many. The frequency of militia road blocks and public outcries are proof enough of this. But at the same time, it is frustrating for me as a person who has been living here now for almost 5months that the true Mexico is a beautiful secret, almost hidden from the world. The utterly amazing, different, colourful lives lead by these people is a story rarely told, Mexico is a place underestimated, underrated and undernourished of the appreciation it deserves. Its variety, its boldness, its uniqueness seems to me is something almost unknown in the outside world, except for those who take the time to see it for themselves. (This does not mean spending a two week vacation in Cabo or Cancun people). The more I see, the more I fall in love with this wonderful country, the more I understand why it is the way it is, and the more I have hope that sooner rather than later Mexicans will have a brighter future.

Here in the heart of the country I was able to see first hand how the Indigenous people live, how they sometimes have to walk hours to get to their village deep in the mountains. How many of them are so isolated that it takes a 3 or 4 day journey to reach them by horse, because no roads find there way into the treacherous heights of their homes. There families are often large, with 10 or more children, some of which are able to stay in their village, but many which are forced to find work elsewhere either in the surrounding cities, or make the treacherous journey to the U.S, leaving their language, family and friends behind. Their lives being undoubtedly changed forever by this voyage of uncertainty, often leaving them with scars of discrimination (even more than they would experience in Mexico), a loss of identity and a struggle to reassimilate their old lives when they return to their village. I spoke to many young and old people who had done this, and some who had not seen their families for 15 years or more.

But as with any country, the Indigenous people of Chiapas are as colourful and unique as the clothes that they wear. Many, although seen as the poorest people in Mexico are able to support themselves by selling their beautiful art work, embroidery, jewellery, clothes and leather wears to name a few. The market in Chiapas is any girls dream, and the Indigenous ladies and often men also host their stalls with a peaceful, welcoming attitude (unlike in Bali or Thailand where you might get hit if you don't by a product you bargained on). The people here have a certain calm about them, they are shy and reserved when it comes to strangers and will hide their face before you can even think about reaching your camera. To many of them, taking a photo of them is like capturing their soul, others I think are simply tired of being walking, unpaid models. Mind you little children won't mind asking you for some money if they think you've taken a photo of them or you would like to do so. They are quiet the entrepreneurs in this part of Mexico, and they seem to be able to obtain almost anything they please, from money to lunch or even ice-creams.

These two young lads were the perfect example of this, they stood close to this lake an would recite clever little poems for whoever was willing to pay the right price. They had a little audience and when I walked past the other Mexicans paid for them to sing a song to the "Guerra" the blonde who obviously looked so strange in the crowd. They asked me my name a few times forgetting it every 2 seconds, and proceeded to recite me some very cheeky but very cute poems. I don't remember them exactly, I was bright red from embarrassment and the audience of Mexicans were laughing so hard that I struggled to understand half of what they said.

Another beautiful pair of boys, two brothers, were playing around another lake, and the oldest gave us a complete history of the surrounding area. When I say complete, I mean as complete as it gets. He spoke perfectly like a historian stuck in the body of an 8 year old and none of our questions were too hard for him to answer in detail. He was extremely professional and knowledgeable, and would place one hand in his pocket while pointing out the sights for our group, before sighing like an old man tracing his memory for more information before continuing. His little brother would not say a world, but clung to him like a life raft, and it was adorable to watch the two of them walking hand in hand up the mountainside after his brother had done his work for the day.

SAN CRISTOBAL LAS CASAS

If you are ever in Mexico, you simply have to go. The small city of San Cristobal sits comfortably in between the mountains, in the heart of Chiapas. The buildings, the streets, the blend of people that reside here all give it its unique flavour. Their is a mixture of the foreign, the Mexican and the Indian in this town and the boiling pot surprisingly produces a refreshing mix of culture and a great atmosphere. It would have to be one of my favourite cities in Mexico, and what is even more appealing is the fact that it is a great place to base your travels from, with some of the most beautiful sights in Chiapas only a few hours away.

PALENQUE

It was incredible to climb through the Jungle that was once home to over 30,000 Mayans, scrambling over ruins and rocks that once were part of this ancient civilisation. The archaeological sight seems to come out of nowhere, and the pyramids and buildings tower over the enormous mix of green and brown, startlingly white in the sunlight, in total contrast to their surroundings, overseers of the land below. It was incredible to see all the buildings, still maintained in great condition, enough that you can imagine what it was like when the Mayan's where there. We had a guide who first took us through the jungle, and then went on to show us the ruins, explaining how these extremely intelligent and somewhat mystical people lived, how they saw the world and was a part of it. From our accommodation, which was a few kilometres away from the ruins a small hut in the jungle, with vines drooping over our roof and spiders that had made good use of our bedroom, we could hear Monkeys at night, their powerful presence known through the jungle and a river, which also served as a swimming pool also flowed through our campsite. It was a truly magical place.

Little slice of heaven.

2011-04-30T16:32:00.000-07:00

There have been far too many places in Mexico that make me feel like I have died and gone to heaven. This little 'island' in the south was no exception. A few bus changes and a ride in a collectivo led us to a boat ramp. From there, we were began our journey into the lagoon that separates this magical place from the rest of the world. Weaving through a thin path created in between the mangroves was a truly incredible experience. To my side I could see the mangrove forest in all it's glory, with it's inhabitants of too many different species of bird to name or count. Local villagers slowly making their way through the trees could be seen just before disappearing amongst the patterns of green and brown, hardly making a sound and the only reminder of there presence a ripple effect in the water. Evidence of a much simpler life, one of fishing and living off the land.

Toward the end of our boat ride the lagoon reached the ocean, with an audience of hundreds upon hundreds off birds enjoying the calm, the abundant supply of fish and it seemed almost the freedom of being able to fly, sitting there in the boat I was almost envious of them as they showed off, flying and twirling through the air, racing next to our boat with such ease and beauty. It is from here that the 'island ' came into view, and to be honest I couldn't have imagined it any more perfect. Small thatched huts lined the beautiful beach and a powerful right hand wave peeled perfectly along the sandbar. The wave breaks like a machine, a big (not to mention heavy) barrelling section at the start, after which a speedy wall would be waiting for you for a few hundred metres.

The little 'makeshift' bridge to our room. Very sketchy, especially with a surfboard in hand and a two story drop that didnt look to inviting, the way it would creak as you walked across definately didn't help ease any fears.

The locals were amazing, and the few travellers who had made this place their temporary home were inspirational and not to mention entertaining. Days were spent surfing, eating an after surf brunch, normally 'huevos a la mexicana' (eggs mexican style my personal favourite) and sleeping on a hammock for a few hours to the sound of the crashing waves and hiding from the scorching midday sun. After this we'd be surfing again until the sun said goodbye and we could do it all again the following day. Nights were spent on the beach under the thousands of starts that lit up the sky, listening to the sounds of voice, guitar and bongo drums. This really was a place where you became accustomed to doing nothing, learning to enjoy life simply, to take it slow- the locals really had mastered this.

Morning views from the room.

It was a place to hard to leave, but after a few barrels and amazing waves I could force myself to go knowing that I would definitely be back.

Our way home, briefly stopped by a busted tire and a little waiting time in the middle of nowhere.

Puerto Escondido

2011-04-30T16:02:00.000-07:00

Zicatela doing it's thing.

Puerto Escondido is not for the faint of heart, the waves, the locals and the party scene can be full on. But there is another side of this little coastal town with it's laidback restaurants, fun left hand point (when there isn't a hundred people out) and almost non-existent time schedule. A bunch of travellers have made this surfers-hub their home, there are actually a few Australians hanging around here, a lot more especially, when compared with the rest of Mexico. For me Escondido really could be summed up by one word- FUN. It really is a magical place and one which many people have told me will always keep you coming back for more. The sunsets from La Punta were incredible. The point somewhat wraps around and lines up perfectly with the sun slowly making its dissent, every night a different colour, a different hue, a different shade cast on the crashing waves below.

Sunset from Zicatela, not half as impressive as ones from the point, but it seemed I always to busy enjoying and admiring the sunsets from the point and never got around to taking a photo, this one will have to do.

He caught a turtle for us. We drove out to sea for about an hour, nothing in sight until all of a sudden he jumped out of the boat at full speed and grabbed a turtle pulling it on board and lettis us take a closer look. Definately reminded me of a mexican 'dundee'.

Frutas y Verduras, our amazing hostel- if you are ever in the area be sure to stay here, cheap, great atmosphere and good fresh food.


More than happy to be in paradise...

VERACRUZ AND CARNAVAL

2011-04-12T12:12:00.000-07:00

Every year the port-city of Veracruz comes alive with the sounds of celebration as thousands of people line the streets in anticipation of the biggest fiesta of the year- Carnaval. Carnaval is a celebration of life, colour, culture, dance and a festival that you do not want to miss. Keeping this in mind we set off on a trip to Veracruz, excited to see Mexico in a sense, well, let its hair down.

Now in my opinion Veracruz definitely isn't one of the most beautiful or welcoming cities in Mexico, the wind often howls through the streets blowing dust and sea mist in all directions, creating a scene outside of the city centre of a town comprised of many buildings half-eaten by rust, half-built, and half covered in graffiti. The beaches close to town are somewhat oil stained, with dark dirty water and enough seaweed to make sushi for the entire planet.

I love this photo, she was beautiful and she only stood there long enough for me to take this photo before she ran off into the distance.

CRAZY CARNAVAL

In saying this Veracruz has its own unique charm, one of Mexico's oldest port cities and a big trading hub for the country which in its own respects has much to offer. This was especially true when it came to Carnaval, the festival was mind blowing. The cities main street, which follows along side the beaches was closed off with podiums on either side, and stretching for kilometres along the coastline it provided the perfect auditorium to view the parade. As the sun began to make its way into slumber, the city came to life, and thousands of people gathered along the road to find a place among the crowd. The parade was just incredible, with all sorts of groups of the traditional, the different and the outright strange making their way down the long road, as eager onlookers hooted and stared in amazement. Sitting in the podiums were people of all ages and sizes, grandparents, grandchildren, husbands and wives, and of course the "sensible" young people all carrying on, with 2L bottles of beer in hand that cost about 3dollars each. Different groups of people would all pass by in their respective elaborate costumes, suited to their specific type of dance hailing from Latin America, the men and women were amazing, and with every group I would join in with the dancing being twirled by a man from the salsa group, or swinging side to side with those dancing rumba. A whole night of dancing in the street, with the sound of beautiful Mexican music and the rhythm of incredible Latin dancing, I couldn't ask for anything more. For me it was a time to feel truly part of Mexico, to enjoy their festival with them, to dance their dances, to sing their songs. At one point I lost my shoes, but of course it wasn't important in the slightest, we were all sweating, all smiling from ear to ear, all living for the moment and enjoying the celebration of life and living in Mexico. Unfortunately I didn't take my camera, and we were advised not to do so, for the moment there are no photos so you can see what I am talking about, but trust me when I say that it was just amazing and a night that I will never forget.

ISLAND OF DREAMS

When visiting the beaches nearby we were constantly hassled to take a boat trip to a secret secluded island, with crystal clear water and incredible snorkelling and pure white sand. After being hassled one too many a time we thought, lets go and see it for ourselves, the beaches weren't too pleasing where we were and after a while the idea of this beautiful island beach starting sounding better and better by the minute. We managed, after much bargaining, to get a good price for the boat to take us on our adventure to this island offshore. After 15 minutes we were sufficiently far enough out to sea, and the island came in view, it was small but nice, with a big lighthouse and some greenery. I though that perhaps on the other side, their would be a nice picturesque beach for us to enjoy, but I was wrong. The island we now saw before us wasn't the one we were going to visit, this was strictly prohibited, but we were allowed to take photos of this one quickly on our way to the other.

The problem was none of us could see an island close by? But in the distance not to far ahead, we could see a sort of sandbank, stretching for literally no more than 10 metres long and maybe 4metres across at its widest point. To make things even better it was absolutely covered in people. We all joked that this was the island we were going to visit, but as the boat draw near and threw their anchor we burst into simultaneous laughter. We weren't wrong, yes this little stretch of sand barely popping out from underneath the water would be our island paradise experience!

We couldn't believe it and it was so ridiculous that we couldn't be angry or disappointed, we all just laughed and enjoyed our 2cm stretch of sand and snorkelling among some rocks. By some chance a friendly Mexican man helped me stumble across some starfish and a sea urchin to have a nice look at.

THE SMART WAY TO EARN QUICK CASH

Close to the city centre we visited some nice markets with beautiful hand made leather items, bags and shoes and the like. We made our way to the harbour and the chilly sea breeze blew menacingly against the buildings and our bodies. Something caught my eye close to the edge of the water, men were diving into the harbor! I had no idea why or how (it was freezing). I watched them for a little bit, and they actually seemed to have a pretty smart little business up and running. Almost like playing a game of fetch, the men would allow young children to through money into the water upon when they would dive in to go get it. Obviously they would keep the coins and any tips if they were given. But on such a freezing day, diving into dark water most probably home to many a shark, for the equivalent of one dollar at a time I don't think I could bring myself to do it. They were freezing you could tell, but they took great pride in their daring feats as the children would applaud and stare wide eyed.

Las Mariposas Monarcas

2011-04-03T19:26:00.000-07:00

A group of three, myself, the only other Aussie at my University and a guy from Belgium made our way into the eastern most part of Michoacán, a state next to Queretaro to see one of the most complex animal migrations on the planet. Millions of Monarch butterflies or "Mariposas Monarcas" travel all the way from the US and Canada to meet in this central part of Mexico and mate. They are so numerous that they weigh down the thick branches of the trees they occupy deep in the mountains. After March they begin their journey back to the US to lay their eggs. The reason for their voyage is still puzzling to scientists.

We took a few wrong turns and ventured into small cobble road villages somewhat awkwardly positioned into the sides of mountains joined by small bridges and mountain trails. The scenery was beautiful, and ancient fern trees covered in moss and greenery, stood like giants covering the mountains, the dangerous road that seemed to curve and bend at every opportunity provided the perfect viewpoint for this classic scenery. Upon entering Michoacán we were also greeted with a huge wanted sign, with the photos of the infamous leaders of the leading drug cartel in Morelia "La Familia". Michoacán, I've been told by many Mexicans is regarded as the most dangerous state in Mexico and many horror stories and extremely strong evidence of military and police patrols could validate this, but it's hard to imagine this place with all it's beauty, it's small quaint villages and modest mountain peoples could be so dangerous.

When we finally made it to our chosen mountain we were met by locals offering horse rides and a girl who offered to be our guide. Luckily we accepted. She took us deep into the mountains nothing in sight but a puzzling scene of tall fern trees, grass and moss and a little creek which greeted us now and then. I have to admit there were a few times when I was a little worried about us making our way back, I have no idea how she knew where we were or where we were going. After walking for about an hour and having seen no sign of butterflies I thought this would be one of those things, were the locals apologise and say the butterflies must have left half n hour before we got there.

After some more walking though, I started seeing bright orange wings scattered along the forest floor. Here and there a dead butterfly would appear. Our guide looked at us and told us to be silent. Slowly and silently we made our way through thick plants and there they were, hanging from the branches in clusters so thick and heavy that the trees seemed to droop almost sad with the burden of these flying beauties. There were hundreds upon hundreds all sitting among the trees and the branches of plants close by. After a few moments of admiration the sun came out, and almost like a movie scene perfectly timed, with it came the butterflies. If I thought there were a lot of butterflies at the start, I was proved wrong. Slowly but surely they made there way away from the branches and took to flight in the most spectacular flight show I've ever seen. Almost as if the suns rays had brought them to life, their orange wings glowing in the golden warmth. It was amazing to sit there, to be in awe of them, to appreciate their simplicity and their freedom as they cut through the sky.

Colonial Queretaro

2011-04-01T21:52:00.000-07:00

Every time I go to the city centre of my home city Queretaro, I'm amazed. It truly is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen. Here colourful buildings with flat roofs and pigeon occupied window sills remind me more of a picturesque Europe than Mexico. To think that a city so beautiful could be so easily accessible, so cheap, so welcoming. Speaking to the French girls about Paris and other European cities, its hard to fathom that in Paris a coffee might cost you 5 euros and here, in my opinion a city just as beautiful in its own respect, you can buy a cofee for a dollar and eat for less than two. Queretaro, a declared World Heritage sight has all the makings of a beautiful colonial city, small shops and homes adorn the side streets, but instead of taking away from the city add to its beauty and class. Queretaro plays an important role in the history and future of Mexico. Although once a small town, it is now a cultural hub and artists dream. Museams, theatres and the like are to be found everywhere, and there is always something to do. A mix between the modern and the truly mexican Queretaro provides a refreshing take on the future direction of this amazing country while still holding on to the important, and wonderful aspects of its past. Once again my perceptions have changed, I thought Queretaro would be an old city of black and grey amongst the dry desert, dirty and poor. Queretaro, although it could be said definitely is like this in some parts, totally surpassed my expectations. It is a city bursting with life, colour and culture.


LOS ARCOS The "story" goes that a rich nobleman fell in love with a nun, and in order to prove his love built an aqua duct across the city in order to get water to his beloved. The aqua duct stands tall in the middle of town, a reminder of love, of history and serves as a symbol that adds to the grandeur of the city.

...and they caught me. Curiosity is beautiful, especially in the eyes of young ones.

Over 300 churches in Queretaro, each one more impressive than the next.

Life..Colour..Dance- this is Mexico

Sleeping on the job.. A beautiful mexican mother taking time to rest.

Mexicans have truly perfected the art of the moustache.

Sleepy San Miguel

2011-02-23T11:15:00.000-08:00

A pink cathedral stands in the middle of the city of San Miguel De Allende, the heart of this vibrant yet tranquil town just outside of Queretaro. Home to many expats and Mexicans alike, the colourful buildings and steep, narrow streets transcend time and remind me of a an old colonial city, VW's in all colours still trying to make their way up the cobble roads that wind along the cliffs in view of the beautiful city center below, charming Mexican musicians playing in the center with older couples dancing to their old time favourites among the perfectly trimmed hedges surrounding the square and the sound of the mass echoing in the distance. San Miguel for me, more than anything is like a breath of fresh air, a city that does not try to overpower you with its grandeur or bustling streets, no San Miguel is modest and this makes it all the more beautiful. Hopefully the following photos can speak for themselves.

This heavenly delight cost me less than one dollar! I love mexico.

Devoted until death.

Mexicans love their coke and Americans love Mexican coce.


Forget streets of gold- streets of rainbow colours.

Once again enjoying a snack- homemade ice-cream.

He excused himself and began asking where we were from, I think he may have been around 60 or so years old. Grey hair and a tattered shirt, with a big grin and eyes that seemed a thousand years old. He proceeded to tell us that we were as beautiful as flowers and that it made him incredibly happy that we chose to visit his town. With that he asked for a dance, and with no hesitation I simply replied "porque no" -why not.

This is another great thing about Mexicans, they know how to dance, how to twirl and spin you and move to the music so distinct to their part of the world. And how great it was for me to dance with this old man, with a grin so wide I was almost sure he was going to tear his face apart. He laughed and smiled as he twirled me and the old couple next to me gave me smiles of approval as I attempted to follow his steps. I laughed with him as we danced in the square and the twirling colours of the dark green trees, shapes of the onlookers and the bright blue uniforms of the musicians all blurred into one beautiful scene and yet another beautiful moment.

After walking ample steps through the city we made our way up tiny winding streets that proved relentless on the calves but more than rewarding enough for the eyes when we reached the top. From here we could see the colourful city, that looked more like someone had construed a massive canvas in front of our eyes and painted the ideal city we saw in reality before us.

Taking a break from admiring concrete and stone, we made our way to a botanical garden. But not the typical kind I expected. I never realised how many different type of cactus there really were, but in this garden I certainly had a bit of a wake up call- there are hundreds upon hundreds. Making our way through the park was like walking on the scene of a sci-fi movie, a single dirt road winding its way through the weird and the wonderful, the plants we saw here could easily have come from the imagination of a 5-year-old or as my friend put it, maybe America dropped nuclear waste in this part of the world and the end product was the growth of the weird, the ugly and the truly Mexican desert plants. We also made our way to a beautiful canyon from where we were once again provided with a last look of the picturesque city.

Surf Please..

2011-02-20T19:43:00.000-08:00

After a month of no surf (since Zihuatanejo was barely breaking) I needed my fix and proceeded to go to another coastal city known as Puerto Vallarta. Now Puerto Vallarta is very touristy, beautiful but touristy and very well how can I put it "Americanised" and really that kind of thing is not pleasing to me. In saying that however, I think it was a great experience to see the city and most of my time was spent away from all of that, chasing waves with a newly made Mexican friend and seeing nearby beaches and northern border town Sayulita.

FIRST SURF IN MEXICO

After driving away from Puerto Vallarta we reached a little spot called Burros. Getting there we had to walk through what felt to me like the Amazon jungle. A small path had been stepped through the middle of huge palm trees and all kinds of greenery, over logs, under branches and through a fence marked PRIVATE PROPERTY. Eventually we reached the beach. The afternoon sun shone beautifully on the water and the silhouettes of a few surfers smoking joints and resting on the beach gave me the feeling that I just stepped onto the set of a 60s surf movie. Fun waves steamed in from the right in front of me and a Mexican guy with long hair was tearing the wave to shreds. Perfect, I couldn't wait. The waves were a little bit more than head high and the wind was howling offshore. Did I mention that I love Mexico? One thing I wasn't prepared for was the water temperature. It was freezing! I couldn't believe it. Totally unprepared I once again had to massage my feet to try get rid of the numb feeling. At least it wasn't as bad as the ice-cream headache inducing water of California. Got a few really fun waves, and went in soon after to get warm on the beach. It was beautiful sitting there watching the sun slowly go to sleep and the locals shredding, and a guy that obviously had a little too much to smoke try skate on the reef.

SAYULITA

I'd heard that just an hour or so North of Puerto Vallarta a little surfing village called Sayulita would be a great place to hang out and get some waves. The first day we went I promised to teach a bunch of eager internationals from the Uni how to surf. This is what led to 10 guys lying on the beach listening to a girl explaining the basics to getting up on a surfboard. Half of them couldn't understand me, especially the French boys but they did a good job of copying my display of "chicken wings" and "bent knees". After an hour in the water and a 100 complaints of nipple rash and sore arms I can safely say that everyone was stoked and having a great time.

I went for a wave but the surf wasn't too great. Nonetheless it was so liberating to just sit among the waves on my own, looking at the beautiful landscape, clear blue sky and palm trees swaying in the wind.

A bundle of joy.

The next day I was once again lured to Sayulitas beauty this time with a threesome of crazy surf stoked Germans and a cool Californian. We were excited to get some more waves and revel in the laidback hippie vibe of the town. We were gifted with a spectacular day of hardly any wind, a flawless blue sky and beautiful sunshine that helped combat the cold of the water. The day of surfing was finished off by watching the Superbowl with a bunch of Americans outside in a laid back bar. Dinner consisted of the best and biggest Burritos I have ever had and an interesting conversation with a Mexican hippie (yes they do exist) about his job as a jade carver and the power of the Mayan temples and religion.

He told stories of temples and gods. Of the power of opals and jade, and left me with a beautiful smile.


A toilet slowly but surely making its way into the river, funnily enough it was still open for use.

PUERTO VALLARTA'S BEST KEPT SECRET

I'd been hearing about a spot called La Lancha that was meant to be working well with the Northerly winds, but had no idea how to get there or how. Luckily for me on the last day of my trip my Mexican friend suggested we go there to get some waves before we go home.

La Lancha was just incredible a juxtaposition of pure white sand and dark blue water and no buildings or people. A beautiful virgin beach apart from a few surfers and a small group of Italians drinking beers on the beach and small righthanders peeling perfectly along a reef. Unfortunately everyone was saying you should have been here yesterday, just my luck. The lack of good waves didn't matter though, it was just such an amazing experience to see the beach and its neighbouring coves. I took a walk along a few more beaches completely isolated, apart from me and an Eagle soaring high above.

This day I fell even more in love with Mexico, with the beauty of the country. The vast variety of it's scenery is just breathtaking. In the distance I could see a huge mountain range serving once again as a backdrop to my perfect view, and a beautiful river mouth greeted me just before leaving.

High above the world

2011-02-03T17:02:00.000-08:00

Bernal is a small village or Puebla close to Queretaro, famous for its Gorditas small corn parcels stuffed with a variety of delights, and the 3rd biggest monolith in the world. At 350 metres high this giant overlooks the town and the surrounding landscape providing those who dare to venture to its peak spectacular views, and an unforgettable experience. As a group we made our way as far up as possible without climbing gear, even though 3 students a crazy French, American and Czech could not resist the lure of climbing far above us. As impressive as it was I couldn't help but feeling sick at the though of someone slipping-people had died here in the past. I was scared enough trying to make way up the cliff face with my long jeans and converse shoes that would refuse to cooperate and slip two inches or so every step I took. Making it too the peak was well worth it however, and we were greeted by the beauty of the barren landscape below. An eagle soaring high above added to the magic of the moment.

An opportunity to stand in the presence of this giant and share in its experience of watching over the land below was truly amazing. There so high above the world it is easy to realise how small you are in the scheme of things, to marvel at the wonder of the Earth below, to me painfully beautiful in its total honesty, raw, dry, barren and perfect all the same. One thing that I have come to appreciate as a traveller is the different beautiful aspects of the planet. From dazzling green forests to pure blue oceans, and as I saw from Bernal, rolling plains of dry grass and cactus plants. So vast and powerful and most importantly beautiful in its own regard.

A young guy walked past me on the mountain, bongo drums in hand, his heavy black dreadlocks swaying with the rhythm of the wind and his long strides further up the mountain. It was there that he began to beat his drum with his voice rebounding from the walls of the rock echoing through us all. A few of us joined him in celebration- I guess you could say dancing pointlessly on the top of a big rock. But to me it was much more than that, it was a moment of revelling in the joy of being alive, of being able to experience the world from a different, higher perspective, a moment to realise just how small we are in the scheme of things and just how lucky we are to be a part of it all.

ZIHUA

2011-01-30T20:52:00.000-08:00

There is nothing like the feeling of salt on my skin, nothing life the view of the ocean ever expanding in front of me with the sun setting on it's horizon. It is here that I am at home, that I find peace and happiness, here that I find freedom..here that I truly belong.

After a couple of weeks of dry land it was time to break away and see my best friend in the world- the ocean. Oh how I had missed her, her comforting waves, the soothing sounds of them lapping on the shore, the feel of sand between my toes, the freedom of an ocean breeze blowing through my hair and the crisp taste of salt in the air. A group of 25 foreigners came together hired a luxury bus for a ridiculously cheap price and set off on our way to a sleepy village about 8 hours away called Zihuatanejo.

Zihua is the sister-city of big time tourist town Ixtapa, which is complete with high-rises, golf courses and 5 star night life, but Zihua could not be more different. In a bid to find cheap accommodation we hired a house 3minutes from the beach, it could hold atleast 25 people and we each paid less than 15dollars a night. Complete with pool barbeque area and beautiful gardens we had all the comforts of a nice hotel for a fraction of the price and in a place that still kept its traditional charm. We really couldn't have asked for more. The beaches were perfect.

A COWBOY, GOLD MINES AND WARNING SIGNS

Playa La Ropa a nearby beach, seemed to have tiny speckles of actual gold infused in the dark sand, and each individual speck would catch the sun creating a spectacular light show for me as I walked along the beach. Maybe I should have bottled the sand and tried to sell it, I have never seen such unusual, and remarkably beautiful sand in my life.

A line of palm trees bordered the beach and in the distance towering mountains served as the perfect backdrop.

Further ahead an old man could be seen riding his horse, complete with cowboy hat, moustache and checkered flannelette shirt. I wondered wear he was going, the beach stretched out before him as far as the eye could see and I continued to watch him until he became nothing more than a small dot in the distance, moulding into the background of sand, ocean and jungle. A little further along the beach I found some interesting signs.

Apparently it was not too safe to swim here, nevertheless I enjoyed the afternoon playing volleyball with our friends, and going on a banana ride behind a boat for the hefty price of less than 5dollars. I will admit that the signs made me a little nervous once I fell of and waited to be picked up, a little shark-bait just waiting to be gobbled up.

A NEED FOR SPEED

A highlight for me was hiring a jet-ski to explore the coves and see more of the cliffs which bordered the coastal town. For 15dollars we were set to go wherever we pleased, no questions asked, no boundaries or speed limits.

I could never imagine being allowed to do the same thing in Australia, but I guess in Mexico almost anything is possible. There was such a huge sense of freedom racing through the water with so much raw power, the wind gushing past my ears and the saltwater spraying onto my skin. A group of us went and as we zigzagged and raced through the coves I stared in awe at the beauty of the landscape. Enormous cliffs cut into the water where they were met by crashing waves relentlessly beating onto their base. Small fishing boats were anchored in some of the bays and rocked almost too much as we flew past them. Far away we could see an island, completely white in colour, like a god of the sea. So majestic, so unusual. With the pure white in contrast of the surrounding dark blue of the ocean, it was astonishingly beautiful. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as we became more daring doing sharper turns, racing through the water at even higher speeds whooping and yelling for joy at the experience of it all. But slowing down and coming to a stand still, floating, moving with the rhythm of the ocean and taking it all in was just amazing, feeling nothing but awe and freedom, and the happiness that comes with realising just how lucky we are.

Taken by my friend Elizabeth Auclair these last two photos capture just another dazzling Zihuatanejo lightshow.

A NEW DAY, A NEW JOURNEY

2011-01-28T08:40:00.000-08:00

It seems to me that sometimes in life the most important decisions I make are done hastily without too much thought of what I'm getting myself into. I certainly feel like this was the case when I signed up to do an exchange in Mexico for half-a-year. I had made up my mind that I wouldn't go, that it was too dangerous for me, a blonde foreigner who doesn't know a word of Spanish. I mean, I had thought about it, but when I weighed up the pro's and con's it seemed the sensible thing to do. Stay at home, finish my degree save my money, or well, better to say start saving money (trips to Bali and South-Africa had already depleted my savings). So it almost came as a surprise to me when one morning, for some reason actually unknown to me, I decided, determinedly that I would go to Mexico. I called the University organised an appointment and before I knew it I was sitting on a plane flying over the city of Los-Angeles. At this time I still don't think I realised what I was getting myself into. But for now a few weeks of sun, surf and adventure with my best friend in California, absolutely perfect.

Los-Angeles is enormous, the buildings like a grey blanket covers the desert below. As sensationalist as it is, I couldn't help but get excited at seeing the famous Hollywood sign, watching over it's city, big and white and well one could say just like in the movies.The ocean was my favourite sight, her blue beauty radiated in the midday sun. I was in LAX, home of movie stars and dreamers, and well surprisingly it felt great. Getting out of the airport I could immediately tell I was in America. It's like all those things I saw on the silver screen, bright yellow Taxi's, movie-like police cars, palm tree lined streets, old, big pastel yellow school buses, came to life before my eyes. It was a weird feeling, I have always thought of America as a sort of dreamland, a place that couldn't really exist because it was recreated in almost every movie I ever saw. Maybe that explains my fantastical association with the country, and that I had never had a real desire to see it. But there I was, window down head poking out, marvelling at the cars driving on the other side of the road. Funnily enough movies give a pretty good representation of the Californian lifestyle, while I think some of the Americans were maybe a bit behind with the times, and really did believe all Aussies are Crocodile Dundees, or Steve Irwins.

Two hills and a sleeping sun.

2011-01-04T13:12:00.000-08:00

By some miracle I had found my way from Mexico airport to the bus for Queretaro, carefully repeating a sentence I was taught by the Mexican man who sat next to me on the plane (I repeated it non stop for about 20minutes straight). I bought a ticket without any trouble and before I knew it was heading to Queretaro. The landscape on the way there was composed of hills and plains, dry and barren, with hardly any sign of civilisation. I however, couldn't help but marvel at the beauty and the power of the raw nothingness of it all. The desert land with its Cactus trees and donkeys slowly making there way along the road reassured me that I was in the right country. After passing a few junkyards and ranches the bus neared Queretaro, and the beautiful city was revealed to me. In the distance, in stark contrast to the cluttered city below, the sun was slowly beginning it's decent from the sky and was an almost purple red, glowing behind the outline of two meeting cliffs. I cannot describe to you how beautiful this sight was for me. As a child I use to draw this exact same sunset, of two hills which would resemble a softly written M with the sun poking its head out right in the middle. The irony of the situation was comforting, and this display of nature gave rest to the frantic butterflies still fluttering in my stomach. The sun sat there for a while in all its glory, so vibrant, so enormous, casting an orange hue on the green landscape below. I couldn't have received a better welcoming from my future home. I arrived safe, exhausted, relieved, but most importantly excited.

CONCRETE JUNGLE

2011-01-04T13:11:00.000-08:00

Mexico City overpowers the barren landscape below. Buildings upon buildings cover the brown and yellow earth as far as the eye can see. I can only imagine what it would be like to live in this place. From the plane, the hawks-eye-view of the lego-land below depicts a mirage of cut and copy scenes. Pastel coloured buildings of yellow and pink amongst the concrete brown, black and grey. The city gives a message of struggle, the buildings like vines reaching for the sun in a jungle canopy, seem to choke each other. Each one higher, bigger, wider than the next. So it must be for the inhabitants of this concrete jungle, where a possibility of earning some more cash, and the draw of the big city life, would be the biggest lure to the centre of it all. Octovio Paz described the Mexican way of life as a constant battle, a struggle, a never ending suffering. Here, from 1000ft above it's hard to imagine how it must truly be to be a "Chilolangian", all trying to make a future in this city of opportunity, all trying to outdo one another. The surrounding landscape of rolling hills and towering mountains are still no match for the relentless rows of buildings that manage to cover the countryside. Don't get me wrong flying over Mexico city instils a sense of awe in me more than anything else. It is hard to fathom that a single city could contain the whole Australian population in its confines. 25 million people, some working for the minimum wage of less than five dollars a day, while some are the richest people in the world. A cultural boiling pot, a relentless economic machine, a home to many. I cannot wait to discover the true Mexico city and lay aside the media inspired perceptions I have of the heart of the country.

A lesson in letting go of preconceptions.

2011-01-04T13:09:00.000-08:00

Butterflies filled my stomach and stayed there for the whole 3 hour flight to Mexico City. I think it dawned on me that I was heading to a 'dangerous' country, no idea of where I was going to stay or live, and only one word of spanish 'hola' to help me get from Mexico City to Queretaro and from there to the safety of my hostel. I asked a man sitting next to me to explain to me how to say "I would like one ticket to Queretaro", this would help later on when buying my bus ticket to city of Queretaro, a 3 hour bus ride from the airport. He was more than happy to help, and luckily for me could speak a little bit of English. I found myself immediately skeptical of this man who was simply interested in my reasons for going to his country and my responses to his questions marked with suspicion and lack of sincerity and interest. Maybe it was because of all the times my parents had warned me not to trust strangers. Maybe it was because he was an older man. But more than that I think maybe it was simply because he was Mexican. Subconsciously the fears and doubts of all the people around me circled in my mind, overcrowding my thoughts until, eventually I adopted them partly as my own. "Why are you going to Mexico?.. There's nothing there!..Do you know how dangerous it is for a blonde girl...The men will be horrible to you..Don't speak to anyone you don't know..Always be careful with anyone...Trust no-one..." Lines and lines of negativity, of course I could understand why some people would say what they did, but unfortunately these thoughts I would say were a major contributor to my animosity towards this man, who was like most Mexicans, welcoming and eager to help. After going to the bathroom for about the 10th time I reached for my camera which I stored below my seat to get some photos of Mexico city below. It wasn't there. Immediately I expected the worst. The man next to me probably stole it. I was furious, my brand new SLR gone, how could people be like this? The bitter taste of resentment was already finding its way into my mouth. The man next to me was speaking to everyone around him, obviously I could not understand but it seemed that he was also trying to find my camera, I don't like to admit it, but secretly I thought "nice cover up". A few minutes before landing, I stretched my legs as far as I could, trying to get some feeling back into my feet and trying to shake off the nerves. My foot incidentally bumped into something. There it was, happily situated far underneath my seat, my camera, untouched, definitely not stolen. My heart sank and butterflies were now replaced by feelings of guilt and remorse. Who was I to so quickly judge these poor people, who had offered nothing but friendly conversation and comfort. I learnt a lesson this flight. In order to enjoy Mexico I had to come fresh, to rid my mind of the perceptions of a country based on biased American neighbours, sensationalised media, and worried friends and family. Of course, safety as in any other country would always be at the forefront of my mind. But now, I was going to try step off that plane and give Mexico a chance, no expectations, no preconceptions, no inhibitions to slow me down.

Surf, Sun, Cold Weather and Chimneys

2011-01-03T12:27:00.000-08:00

A week was spent in the small coastal town of Carlsbad, where I experienced surfing in the coldest water I've ever been in! The biggest problem was every time I needed to duckdive (get under the wave) I would immediately get an 'ice-cream' headache. I learn't to put up with it though and soon started realising that surfing in California would mean not feeling my feet for a few hours. Offshore winds and fun waves compensated for the cold, and the last stage of my trip was spent in Newport Beach, in a house that was literally on the sand.The house was that of a lovely lady who became like a second mother during our stay. A house of 3 girls and the two most beautiful poodles in the world. Kosmo and Henry.

We spent our days cruising Newport Beach on our old-school bikes and eating fro-yo (which is short for Frozen Yoghurt and yes it was as good as it sounds).

My favourite flavours definitely being cheesecake, cookies and cream and cinnamon scroll. It was a mix of pleasure and pain however, because taking a bite of fro-yo meant either instant brain-freeze or a ridiculous drop in body temperature, and us poor Aussie girls were no match for the harsh cold of the Californian winter.

A visit to Universal studios on a rainy day was probably the coldest day of my life and it was reported that it was snowing six miles from where we were. We literally froze, and an abundance of hot chocolates, churroz and cuddles kept us from near frostbite. Okay so maybe a bit of an exaggeration, but for us spoilt with the warmth of the Australian sun, the cold really proved to be a challenge. It was well worth it though, and Universal Studios was a great experience. The sunsets from the beach were just incredible, and every afternoon I was once again reminded of the beauty of the world we live in. A memorable sunset was spent eating at the end of Huntington beach pier in a restaurant called Rubies Diner. Well, Rubies really was the epitome of what you'd expect a typical American diner to be. Girls in red and white short, checkered-dresses which matched the colour scheme of the diner, with bright red plastic seats and burgers and milkshakes atleast 10 times too big. After our meal we rode home at record pace. That much greese and junkfood could not be good for the body, but the afternoon was most definitely good for the soul.

Evenings were spent cuddling up with the boys (Kosmo and Henry) by the heaters, the friendly fire burning in the background. We were definitely spoilt, with all the comforts imaginable, freshly baked cinnamon scrolls for breakfast and 5 star cuisine for dinner. Our routine for that short time was perfect, and leaving my Newport home with its huge chimney and precious occupants was a challenge in itself.