Entries about food

After an enjoyable week in Oaxaca and surrounds we headed off to the coast. Rather than an 8 hour bus ride on windy mountain roads, we opted to take a small plane to Huatulco and then hired a cab to take us over to Zipolite.

View from the plane

The Oaxacan coast between Huatulco and Puerto Escondido is one of the least developed parts of the Pacific coastline. Mostly it consists of small towns and fishing villages that are slowly drawing more tourists, but there are no high rise hotels as in Cancun. Zipolite is an old hippie hang-out that has a reputation as a laid back place where nudity is allowed. It turned out to be delightful, with plenty of eateries on the beach, small guest houses, and a very warm sea. It also is known as a place with dangerous surf and rip tides, although the swimming was generally excellent while we were there.

Our 7 room guest house was on a hillside overlooking the sea, and about a five minute walk from the beach.

When we first arrived, two middle aged and rather out of shape and overweight couples were lounging around the pool buck naked. A bit of a shock, but they turned out to be quite ordinary and friendly folks who are more or less professional nudists. It was at least their third trip to Zipolite, but they frequent other nudist spots as well. Sorry, it seemed gauche to take their picture, although I'm sure they would not have minded. The small pool was a great place to sit around with a beer and cool off with or without your bathing suit.

Needless to say, there was not a lot to do at Zipolite other than swim, sun, eat or drink, but that was fine by us. Our guest house owner was a gay,white, Mexican, who looked to be in his mid 40's. Apparently he had built the place with his partner, now separated. Most days he served us breakfast overlooking the pool, usually wearing only a skimpy towel.

In the five days we spent there we developed a bit of a routine. We would go down to the beach in the morning, around 10 or so and either return between 11:30 and 12 when the sun got too hot, eat in our little apartment, or go to lunch someplace along the beach.

After lunch we'd sit around the pool in the shade, or take a nap inside. By around 3:30 we walked down to the beach again for another swim.

More like 5 in this pcture

And then it was back to our pool above the sea for sunset and a beer, and finally a walk to a restaurant, either on the beach or in the tiny town with small shops and restaurants on the only main street. The best way to get anywhere was to walk directly on the beach, although there was a dirt road that led through palm trees into town. That took longer and was more confusing. Our guest house was on one end of the beach, and so it was a bit of a walk to most restaurants, and to "main street," one block from the water. The nearby Alchemist was a frequent choice because the food was good, if a bit pricey by Zipolite standards.

Also on our side of the beach, was a spectacular set of rocks, with a large peephole to the sea, worn away over the years by waves and wind.

Sunset was quite a show down here, as well as up at the pool.

So what's with the nudity thing you want to know. Well of course, it was only some of the gringoes and gringas that were naked on the beach. It was an interesting thing to watch a middle aged, fully dressed Zapotec man selling coca frio to a naked gringa of indeterminate age. And it was a real mix of ages who were naked, all different shapes and sizes but only one color, or rather two, sunburn red or white. I'd say about 1/4 to 1/3 of the white people on the beach had shed their clothes, but there was no pressure either way. Sometimes I wore a suit, and other times I did not. Nobody cared either way.

I did begin to wonder just how it was that Zipolite got its start as a nude beach, and that it somehow managed to continue this way in a very Catholic and conservative country. It all began in the 60's, naturally, when a small group of hippie types showed up in this tiny and remote backwater, at least at that time. Many of them didn't bother to wear clothes. Some of them stayed and others left, but gradually as the town developed into the low key resort that it is today, the locals decided to retain the optional nudity. As in most of Oaxaca, the people are Zapotecs, and the central government more or less leaves them alone to run things as they see fit. I would guess it was more of a business decision to continue the clothes optional policy. There are of course, other small towns and resorts along this coastline, but Zipolite is the only one that allows nudity. How much the nudity helps their business is an open question, a bit like asking if the growth in Colorado is due to legal weed. I don't think it's hurting things.

On our last night we were hoping to make it to the other side of the beach, because there was a bar on top of a promontory which had a reputation for spectacular sunsets. As you can see by the picture above, we didn't make it. That sunset was on our side of the beach, but it's hard to imagine anything better. We did however, make it to our favorite restaurant, Fish and Love, which which is located just off the beach at the far end of town.

Debbie and Nanette in front of restaurant

It is owned and run by a friendly local family. In the morning, until mid-afternoon they fish, and then return to prepare and cook what they catch. It couldn't have been any fresher, and they made a damn good margarita to go with it. If that wasn't enough, it was an incredible bargain.

As in other restaurants people wear clothes, though we were early and thus the only customers. They did tell us that they had a popular clothes optional night once a month.

Naked Fish and Love, what could be better.

After a few days of wandering the streets of Oaxaca, we were ready to go a little further afield. We went on a day trip into the Sierra Norte with a small tour group to the Zapotec villages of Lachatao. It took a couple of hours of driving on the curvy mountain roads to reach the village. It is a poor area, but the indigenous people there and in several other small villages, are trying to attract eco-tourists, and have constructed a number of bungalows just outside of town. Our first stop was a small anthropological museum, largely organized and opened due to the efforts of our guide, Oscar. After that, we went on a hike to what we were told was an ancient ceremonial place on nearby Jaguar Mountain. The hike was billed as a ritualistic inner journey, and that exactly what it was. Oscar, though not indigenous, had lived in the village for a number of years, and was convinced that he had found one of the original sites of Zapotec civilization on this flattened mountain. It was not long or difficult, perhaps two hours, but we made a number of stops en route for him to explain certain things to us about the culture and the religion, which was based on worshipping the spirits of the mountains, wind, and animals. We were encouraged to close our eyes and meditate on the sounds and smells of the forest. Oscar talked about the Zapotec way of life as being in harmony with Tao, or the Way, similar to the ancient Chinese religion. I'm not sure whether this accurately described the Zapotecs, who apparently were also into human sacrifice, or if it was a reflection of Oscar's time living in San Francisco. When we got near the top, which had wide views of the surrounding mountains and valleys, we were instructed to lie down in a certain spot and glance backwards over the horizon, and then describe the colors we saw. The predominant color was supposed to be indicative of a certain aspect of our mood and personality. I forget now what my color was, or its meaning.

We then gathered around what looked like an ancient fire pit and sent out positive energy to the other folks on the hike, and then in widening circles to all living beings. It was a bit hokey, at least to me, but enjoyable nonetheless.

On our return, we had lunch in the town's only "restaurant," prepared by local village women. Then some of us climbed up to the roof of the old church, giving us another great view of the mountains beyond.

Oscar on church roof

View from church roof

The next day we hired Luis, to take us on a tour of Monte Alban and a few other nearby points of interest. Having lived in LA for several years, his English was good, and he turned out to be quite personable and informative.

Monte Alban is one of the oldest ruins in Mesoamerica. It goes back to 500BC, although it was abandoned some 1600 years later for unknown reasons. Like the ceremonial site in the mountains, it is located on top of a flattened mountain with a commanding view of the Oaxaca valley below. It is obviously quite large, and while some of it has been reconstructed, parts of the pyramids are original. Getting there early was a good move, as the place was practically empty.

Pelota field

Local man at the ruins

After Monte Alban, we stopped at a Mescal factory, just out of town. It was interesting to see how they made it from roasted agave.

Of course we had to sample the product. Unlike most liquor, the newer stuff, made from wild agave, was more expensive than the aged ones, most likely because they are made from cultivated agave.

Then it was on to see the Tule tree. Said to be 1600 years old, its circumference is immense, at least 50 feet or so.

We stopped for a late lunch at favorite buffet that Luis knew. They had all four different moles, as well as a huge assortment of other meats, fish, vegetables etc.

Finally we ended the day by going to a weaving "factory." It was very much a family run business, and although they sell some of their handwoven rugs right there, they sell more at the Santa Fe Indian Market during the summer. We wouldn't see them there, but Santa Fe was going to be our destination in a few weeks.

It was a long day, but I couldn't resist taking a shot of these kids on the way back to our hotel.

This winter was different. Instead of our usual travels we decided to go closer to home in consideration of a possible move from upstate New York. The Mexican portion of the trip was the only "abroad" section and was really a chance to have a couple of weeks of warm weather before driving across country to Santa Fe. We had visited both of these places many years ago.

In Mexico we spent all of our time either in Oaxaca or along the Oaxacan coast in the small town of Zipolite. We went on this trip with our friends Debbie and Bill, and stayed in what had been an ancient monastery close to the center of town. Our room, on the second story, faced an inner courtyard where we had breakfast everyday. Oaxaca did not disappoint. Although there are obviously tourists it is not overrun by them, and manages to retain its distinctly Mexican and indigenous feel. The Zocolo is remains the center of life in this mid sized city, and many of the colonial buildings are still standing. It is quite lively during the day as well as the evening, with Mexican families taking a paseo or young people just hanging out. There are shops and restaurants lining the nearby streets.

The pace of life is relatively slow, and though the province of Oaxaca is one of the poorest in Mexico, it doesn't feel that way in the center of town. The poor live on the outskirts and in the rural areas. The city spreads out in a wide valley between two mountain ranges, with the Pacific on one side and the Atlantic on the other.

Most days we spent wandering around the streets, and exploring.

We went to the nearby market, although we were told there was an even larger one about a mile away.

We checked out the main catedral, and on one day they were filming a quinceanera.

Oaxaca is said to have the best food in Mexico, and with four different kinds of moles, great seafood and beer, and inexpensive prices, I would have to concur. So when we weren't walking, we were eating.

An hour from Rethymno, Chania is Crete's second largest city and certainly more beautiful than Heraklion. There is an old Venetian port with a lighthouse and ancient walls, as well as an even older part of the city with narrow alleys, and stone and cement houses, a few of which have a second floor of wood in the old Turkish style.

Lighthouse and outer wall, built in 1538 to fortify the city

The port area is a busy place with restaurants, many now just opening for the season, cafes, bars, and tourists from various parts of Europe. The weather has improved significantly, and for the most part, the days have been bright and warm, though often with a stiff breeze over the water.

Ancient mosque no longer in use by the waterfront

Old buildings and the port chock full of boats

The high snow covered mountains are visible over the ancient walls, and provide a stunning backdrop to this lively place.

Picture taken from outer wall.

People continue to be friendly, and the food is nothing short of fantastic. After just a few days, some of the shop and restaurant owners are already recognizing us and saying Yasou, hello, or Calamara, good day, not squid, although we had some delicious stuffed squid the other day. The restaurant where we had it is owned or managed by someone who looks like a cross between Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra. He stood out in front, trying to drum up business, as do so many of the restauranteurs, and he made a big deal over us when we told him we were from New York. It didn't take long before he belted out New York, New York, and then I Left My Heart in San Francisco. Of course we had to eat there after that, and were glad we did, returning a couple of times for more seafood. On the waterfront, where Tony Bennett's place is located, there are number of excellent fish places, especially as you walk further down into the inner harbor area. Every one of them gives you raki and desert, free of charge, and meals are a very leisurely affair.

Looking up at waterfront promenade outside Tony Bennett's restaurant

Most days we have spent walking and looking at the old walls and alleys, and often just sitting and reading by the waterfront. We found some Minoan ruins, some of which are 5000 years old, and we learned that parts of Chania have some of the oldest Minoan sites in Crete.

In our meanderings, we also discovered a very local place in a non-touristy part of town, with the unlikely name, in English at least, of Chicken LTD. Great veggie options, salad, and boureki, Greek pie, which is not a dessert, but a full meal somewhat like chicken pot pie, only better, with veggies and cheese. Unlike most of the waterfront places, there were few foreigners eating here, perhaps because of the location and the prices, cheap.

Olive oil container at Chicken Ltd.

It's all Greek to me on the chalkboard menu at Chicken Ltd.

Our restaurant meals have also been supplemented by Michaelis, who runs our tiny three room guest house. He brings us something homemade and organic every day.

All of the Greek street and city names that have been translated into English letters are still impossible to pronounce, and there seems to be no consistent spelling. Most have at least 10 or 15 letters. Even Chania, relatively easy to say, can be spelled without the C , ie, Canea, Hania, etc.

One of the main shopping streets with an impossibly long name

It was with some trepidation that we decided to rent a car once again, as this will give us the opportunity to travel up to to a few of the smaller villages in the hills, and we will keep it for our time in Paleochora, as we have a week there. Perhaps the GPS will be more effective here than in Italy. Vamos a ver.

We continue to be impressed with good spirits of the local people, who are always eager to communicate, and luckily for us, many speak English well. Yes there are some beggars on the streets, but not that many considering the economic situation. Folks have told us that Crete is doing better than other places in Greece, particularly Athens, perhaps because it has a strong agricultural base and tourism remains fairly robust. Some of the younger ones have relocated here because there are more jobs.

The Italian portion of our trip is rapidly coming to a close. Tomorrow we drive to Rome airport and fly to Athens. We left Modica early to spend another day in Siracusa, and the women who run the B&B were delighted to see us a second time. During most of the day the rain held off so we had time to wander with Joachim and Antonette, who took the train since we didn't have room in our car. The highlight was eating lunch in the open air market where we drank Prosecco, and had some of the best mozzarella and sausage I have ever tasted. At night thunderstorms rolled in, and we holed up in a small bar, drinking Grand Marnier, and talking about whether the German temperament had anything to do with Hitler. I couldn't have asked this question of any other Germans, but felt comfortable enough to do so with the two of them. The answer was complex, in that they felt the previous generation of Germans was considerably more rigid and conformist than subsequent generations.

Here in the pleasant town of Salerno, just south of the Amalfi Coast, we finally got lucky with weather, and have had two nice days to check out the museums and hang out on the seaside promenade.

And yes, have some pastry at one of the many bakeries. There seem to be at least half a dozen on most blocks downtown.

Shopping street. No cars.

Street at dusk

Fabian, our host at the B&B apartment, has been quite agreeable and helpful, coming out to find us when we, as per usual, had trouble locating his place.

View from our room

Open air market just outside our apartment