Day 8: Zihautanajo

Trip Start Dec 08, 2003
Trip End Dec 18, 2003

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Flag of Mexico  , Guerrero,
Tuesday, December 16, 2003

Here we are in Zihautanejo. It has been 12 years since I was here, and as I look out over the view from the ship, none of this looks familiar. Probably not because of any massive development that has taken place since I was here last. But just because I don't think I visited this particular spot before. But it looks very tropical and very inviting. Can't wait to go out and check it out.

A short boat ride from ship to shore. Walk over to a little museum and walk through just for the experience. Walk along the beach. A newly-constructed concrete and stone wall (still being built) that stretches the distance along the dark sandy beach. Man is it hot here, and humid. But it feels good. The view of hotels and condos dotting the hills reminds me of a scene in "The Thorn Birds". It is very pretty. Looks relaxing. Like someplace I'd like to come back to visit for a few days.

As the beach runs out we take a side street to see where it leads. To the street entrance to the hotels. Hmmmm, shall we go left down the hill or right up the hill. Michael asks a couple where the street leads and we find that it goes up and then steeply down about 1 mile and ends up at one of the most beautiful beaches around (according to the woman). "We call it cardio hill," she says because of the steepness of the hill. We figure if these two older people can do it, surely we can. Sure enough, it's a good workout, especially in this heat.

As we pass by a little picturesque fountain, we stop to take a picture and my water bottle drops from under my arm and rolls down a hill. Going too fast for me to catch it so I let it roll and go ahead and take the picture of Michael in front of the fountain. As he runs off to catch the water bottle, a little Mexican man passes me. "Hola," I say to him. He looks up and smiles as he passes. Then he turns back and decides to hold a conversation with me in Spanish. "No comprendé," I reply. That's what I get for speaking to him in Spanish in the first place. Now he thinks I speak the language.

Despite my plea that I don't understand a word he's saying, he continues to speak to me. Michael comes up with the water bottle and commences to ask the man in English if this is the way to the beach. Can't he see this man doesn't understand English?! Somehow we gather that we're headed in the right direction, and I suddenly realize that my water bottle was leading the way. So we walk down the hill (not nearly as steep as the woman made it out to be) and discover a nice little semi-secluded beach (not nearly as great as she said).

Michael decides to try parasailing and I'm glad because I know he'll enjoy it. A few instructions, some proud poses for the camera and then off he goes. Faster than expected. He lets out a loud yell and then flies off into the air, attached by a string to a little motor boat. I snap a few shots so he can have some documentation of his flight. Upon landing he's still soaring from the experience.

We sit a while and chat with the owner of the parasailing/banana boa/ jet ski business. Find out he has a boat and can take us back to the other side for only $5. Can't pass up that opportunity. So the boat backs up to the shore. We walk into the shallow water, hop into the boat, and we're whisked off. In no time flat we're back on the other side where the ship's shuttle boat awaits to take the latest bunch of us back to the ship. We're sweating like crazy, but it's been a good day.

Grab a bite to eat, relax in the Jacuzzi and sit out for some more tanning. Time to get ready for dinner.
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