Upon leaving our lovely little cove, we travelled to the small village of San Agustin. Here there was an iOverlander camp spot that had an incredible number of good reviews, owned by a Dutch couple, it was a little pricey, but we decided to check it out, and the owner gave us a warm welcome. The village itself is very rustic, but the campsite was one of the best equipped ones we had seen in a long time. It had the cleanest toilets I have seen in the whole of Mexico, as well as a gorgeous sea view to go with it.
The owner was very taken with Jaro’s landrover, and we managed to negotiate a better price and decided to stay. We parked up in his small, but neat little yard and enjoyed the view.
The campsite is named Don Taco after the dog, who chased Aimee a couple of times, and then largely ignored her. He wasn’t shy about exploring the camper either.
One other friendly overland couple was staying there in their trailer tent, and we soon got chatting with them. After that, we headed out for a walk around the town which looks like it survives on seafood restaurants and boat tours, neither of which are in demand right now. We looked at the free spot, but it would have been a tight squeeze for all of us and the wind was pretty brutal on this side of the point. Unfortunately, there was no surf to be seen.
We made the most of using the facilities, including cooking in their little kitchen and having a shower. It was a late night as we stayed up with some drinks, talking to the other people, they too were leaving in the morning.
While i could have stayed another night, it was a little on the pricey side, so after declaring it another unsurfable spot, we made our way back out of the dirt road and towards the next major town of Huatulco for some supplies before leaving for La Bocana. This was a surf spot, but we didn’t think much of the camping, which was just a turning spot at the end of the road. It’s probably fine for one camper for the night, but three seemed a bit much and with time still left, we continued on to Playa Mojon.
Here was a lovely place. There wasn’t really much of a village, but it was clearly an area being developed. We parked up next to the hotel, currently closed. It was incredibly windy and we had the place to ourselves.
The morning was busier, a few people arrived and the wind had gone, leaving the beach clear for the surfers. One of the surfers told us we shouldn’t be here, but after reading a few comments about this we largely ignored him, everyone else was very friendly. We attempted to surf, but an incredibly strong current meant even playing about in the white water was hard work. Jaro tried to do it properly, but couldn’t make it past the break.
That afternoon, we located the owner of the hotel and asked him if we could stay. He explained that while he didn’t mind, the municipality did. A little while later another guy came over. He was very polite, and said we were welcome to stay that night, but could we please leave in the morning. They didn’t want campers in the area. he recommended a few other spots that were open down the coast that we could try out, fair enough. He told us that San Diego was open, supposedly not only good surf but an amazing spot to stay, we were excited to see it.
The next day, we headed south following Jaro while Ian headed back into town for some diving. We stopped off for some basics from the petrol station as this was opposite the turning to the beach. Then, we turned down the small road, excited to see this spot. The excitement didn’t last for long as we hadn’t even driven a minute before we came up to a pair of locked gates. Clearly it wasn’t open anymore, that was a shame. We continued on, deciding to try the Blue Rock Restaurant a little further down the coast. This was an unexpected gem. After about 10 minutes driving in on a reasonable dirt road, we passed a small village and then continued to the coast. Here there was little in the way of buildings. The restaurant itself was just a big palapa with a small room attached. The wind was incredible, it blew the sand up off the beach and hammered it into our shins. It was beautiful though.
We went to speak to the owner, who fortunately spoke very clear Spanish. He said that the wind would die down in a few days and we could stay here if we liked. He had Wi-Fi, and unexpected bonus, and a toilet and shower. The price of the camping was a donation to a turtle rescue project that he was part off. We decided to give it a go and hope that the howling gale would die down.
That evening just after Ian caught up with us, we ordered some fish from the restaurant and ate hidden around the back out of the wind. The fish was lovely, and incredibly cheap. Afterwards we sat and chatted to Osvaldo for a while before heading back out into the gale. Against our better judgement, we tried to sleep in the pop top, which just resulted in us trying to rearrange the camper at 3am when we finally admitted to ourselves it was just too windy.
The next day was also incredibly windy. Hanno and Kikki joined us but we spent a lot of time hid in our campers against getting a faceful of sand. This time we admitted defeat and slept downstairs from the off. The next day was definitely calmer, it had been worth the wait.
Whilst the wind had died down, the waves were not small. We watched other far more proficient surfers attempt surfing, making it look easy. When we tried we didn’t do so well, I spent a lot more time under the water than above it. From the shore the waves looked quite calm, but they were incredibly strong. Even the white water was enough to knock you off your board. Osvaldo told us that in a few months they would be surfing pipe here, and I can believe it.
This was one of this nicest camping spots I think we have stayed on for a while. Parked right on the beach, we had access to the basic facilities from the restaurant. The restaurant itself was quite enough that it wasn’t really an intrusion, we were often the only people here. To both sides the beach rolled away, an empty expanse of sand as far as you could see. Walking further south along the coast takes you to another beach, it’s not really accessible to us as the sand was too deep without 4×4.
We weren’t the only Europeans here. Throughout the week or so we stayed, another German couple arrived in a Unimog. The guy was convinced we could drive to the other beach, as he was about many other things he told us about. When we walked around the next day, we were certain we weren’t going to try it. The sand was soft and deep, while the track went uphill and around a bend. Our point was proved a few days later when a guy appeared at the camper asking for help to push his car out the sand. After some digging, Jaro’s traction boards and a lot of pushing he was free and we were justified in not attempting it.
Throughout the week we made friends with a little dog that appeared to live at the restaurant. It’s often hard to tell here if the dogs are pets or not. You may assume that a dog that is limping, or has an untreated injury is not a pet, until you see a collar. In the same way, we have seen many owners with their dogs who clearly have just about every parasite going. It’s a normal assumption for us that you put a collar on your dog and look after it’s medical needs, that’s not the case here. This little dog was sad, as not only was she completely ridden with ticks and worms, but all she wanted was company. One night she shivered on the floor under the hammock and didn’t need any encouragement to get in there with me and fall asleep. There was also a small puppy here, Tyson who enjoyed Jaro’s hammock.
We named her ‘Little Dog’ and she walked with us into town every time we went and anywhere else we chose. She was surprisingly obedient as we berated her for chasing a baby goat. When we went for a walk up to the dune’s on one end of the beach she followed us the whole way. This was indeed a beautiful walk.
It takes the best part of an hour to reach the dunes from the camper, walking past the other little bay and on down the beach.
The German couple had gone too, so to not just end up following each other we took a slightly different route, heading up the hillside to the ridge, before turning right and climbing the last of the hill.
We had started around 8am, to try and avoid the worst of the heat. But by the time we were approaching the ridge it was incredibly hot. Like normal, I wished we had brought water. Maybe one day we’ll learn. By the time we reached the top, the sand was getting too hot to stand on. The view was worth it. The one side we could look back down the way we had come and towards the camper.
The other side was another expanse of sand, with some interesting dunes of its own.
From the top, the descent is an easy slope back down to the beach, before returning the way we had come.
Another day, we walked the other direction. Again with our accompanying dog madly chasing crabs.
A few times, we attempted the surf. On the last day before we decided to leave we managed to catch a few waves, but the current was so strong it was easy for things to go from being fun too scary. While I caught two waves, I can also say I’ve never been so close to drowning. My new board’s added buoyancy meant it had a tendency to stay on the wave even when I fell off, dragging me along backwards underwater while it kept surfing.
We also had to sort out Lee’s passport. It was due to expire in 5 months, meaning it was likely he would be denied entry to another country. It’s pretty straightforward to renew if; you are in England, the British embassy is open or you have a permanent address in Mexico. None of these things applied so we ended up posting and hoping we would have no issue with customs, or our attempt at doing passport photos on the beach.
By the time we were ready to go, it was a Monday morning a week before Easter. It was time to leave the beach again and head back into the morning to find a quiet hideout for Semana Santa, one of Mexico’s busiest holidays.