Liz Cirelli: Meeting the Pacific & falling in love...with surfing

Our days in El Fuerte were mostly spent luxuriating, indulging in 5 star treatment...and eating lots of fish. We also took a boat trip down the perfectly free and flowing El Fuerte river, which was absolutely lovely. Boat trips always remind me of how much I'd love to own a boat. We saw a variety of birds – osprey, black hawk, kingfisher, heron...all beautiful. The trip culminated in us paying a visit to some ancient Mayo (not to be confused with Maya) petroglyphs that told in picture form the story of creation as the Mayo perceived it – it's amazing how these ancient carvings are still in tact. I'm always a little dubious as to who to actually believe when it comes down to deciphering exactly what ancient carvings mean. Unless the information comes from the ancestors of the people who made them, I can't help but feel that it would get corrupted, and even then there's still a margin for information-juggling. Despite our guide being of Mayo origin, he himself did not know what the carvings meant – that knowledge had been lost a long time ago. He had obtained their meaning from modern archaeologists, who, as history has told, aren't always accurate. Nevertheless, scepticism aside, it was mesmerizing to stand in front such ancient relics – to be shown the stone in which the heart of the sacrificial goat would have been placed, and the channel through which the goat's blood would have flowed. The Mayo also have an incredible knowledge of herbs and plants. As we walked along the path our guide pointed out many indigenous plants – and the many uses the Mayo had for each of them – from weaning babies off breast feeding, to making hair brushes. Incredible.

Unbeknownst to us, our lovely hotel was built around the original house of Don Alejandro de la Vega – the father of Zorro. Yes, it appears the legend is actually true. There was a little hacienda at the end of the dining room – and this was the house that Don Alejandro was born in. The story of his family was written on one of the walls of the hotel, and every night we stayed there, at 7 o'clock in the evening, Zorro would appear, dressed in black, brandishing his sword, to re-tell the tale of his family. He'd then sing songs, and make the women blush by offering them the key to his room. Little Isis didn't really know what to make of him – Lucy & I loved every second of it as we sipped on our glasses of Bailey's over ice. It's not everyday you get to meet El Zorro!

From El Fuerte we headed southwest, towards the coast, to the seaside city of Mazatlan. We arrived just as the sun was setting...we kept glimpsing its golden glow in between the buildings on the ride to our hotel. This was the first time I was going to see the Pacific Ocean – and I was clapping my hands with glee in the back of the taxi – much to the amusement of little Isis. We checked into the hotel, then excitedly made a beeline for the seafront to greet the ocean. It's a funny phenomena – in reality the world's oceans are one and the same water, but each one I've visited has an energy that's very particular to it. The Pacific has a wonderful, vast feel to it (probably because it is absolutely huge). Mazatlan itself is buzzing, vibrant – and full of delicious sea food. It's a gorgeous little city – the post-colonial architecture really lends it a charismatic European feel. Mexicans are tremendously warm and friendly, and here in Mazatlan they seemed even more so. Upon taking a little afternoon stroll along one of the beachfront streets, I had several people approach me and start talking to me, from all walks of life, of all ages. A couple of fishermen began talking to me, and gifted me a delicious oyster, fresh from the sea. That evening, Lucy and I sat on the beach to watch the sun set – and it was perfect. Not a cloud in the sky, we watched as the big, bright, orange sun dip beneath the horizon of the Pacific Ocean.

The city has a wonderful artsy feel to it too – the Plazuela Machado – one of the squares, is decidedly artistic, containing galleries, the theatre, boutique shops, a dance studio, and cosy brasserie-style restaurants and cafes. One morning we had breakfast to the distant sound of a ballet class taking place in one of the buildings opposite the restaurant...the tinkering sound of the piano faintly and delicately filling the square. At night, the Plazuela is softly lit and becomes a hive of buzzing activity as the restaurants start to fill out. Market stalls line the square selling tasteful trinkets, souvenirs and pretty clothes.
Lucy and I took Isis on a little boat trip to one of Mazatlan's close by islands, Isla De La Piedra, where we more or less had the beautiful, long, sandy beach to ourselves. A few little restaurants lined the beach, their simple wooden structures and thatched roofs sheltered by the abundance of coconut groves that bordered the beach. We indulged in some amazingly tasty barbecued fish...then decided to hire a quad-bike and take Isis on a little adventure. I sped us (safely) along the beach, the wind rushing through our hair...it seemed to go on and on forever...and past a certain point, there wasn't a single soul or building in site. It really was quite splendid.

We loved Mazatlan (especially the food on offer) but we were both eager to get some proper beach time in – and to learn to surf. We boarded the bus to the sleepy little fishing village of San Blas and quickly took up residence in a wonky rustic little beach-side hut. I was tremendously excited as the day of our first surf lesson dawned. Our surf instructor, Guillermo, was utterly lovely. “The first thing you need to learn is how to stand up on your board”. He laid the board on the sand and had me practice jumping from laying on my front to standing sideways on the board, with my feet wide apart. After a few goes he was happy and we went into the sea. Now standing up onto a board when it's in sand and standing up onto a board when it's in water rushing along a wave, are two very different sensations. Needless to say, my first few attempts at standing up almost immediately resulted in me simultaneously flying off the board, but, probably thanks to yoga, by the end of my first lesson I was successfully surfing the waves of the Pacific Ocean. What a thrill it is. There is something utterly amazing about the sensations of surfing. To be at one with the waves, to have that perspective of the waves, to have to sit and wait...patiently...for the right wave. One evening I surfed to the back drop of the setting sun. I love it – and I'm hooked. Surfing is something I'm definitely going to continue when I get back home.

The beach here in San Blas is pretty, but rugged: the sand is golden brown rather than pristine white – and there are a lot of sand flies and mosquitoes. It doesn't pretend to be anything other than what it is: a fishing village that has good surf for beginners. It doesn't particularly pander to the tourist trade and it doesn't put on any airs or graces. I really liked it here – it's rough around the edges, but the people are wonderful and its so safe you can leave a bicycle unlocked anywhere in town. But...despite mosquito nets and much Mosi-Guard, poor little Isis got bitten pretty badly, as did Lucy...so after a few days she felt she wanted to move on. I wasn't in any particular rush to leave San Blas – the surf camp where we were staying have free bicycles that guests can use, so I was loving being able to potter around the super safe town on a bike. Plus I'd become good friends with Guillermo (you have quite a lot of time to chat whilst you wait for the right waves), and it just didn't seem right to rush off so quickly. Rick had actually come to San Blas to see Isis, and things between he and Lucy seemed, for now, to be good, so Lucy decided to head to the nearby town of Sayulita with he and Isis, and I decided to stay put for a few days.

I trusted the new friend I had made in Guillermo, so when one day he offered to take me on a trip to see a nearby waterfall, I very gratefully accepted. I had heard about it and was very eager to go – it was apparently very beautiful, but hard to get to as it was literally in the middle of nowhere – which also meant it was virtually unvisited. Guillermo did warn me that getting there would be ok, but getting back may be a bit of a problem. Still, with faith, we decided to give it a go. For the sake of ease, we took a 30 minute taxi ride to the closest village of Cura, up into the mountains that hazily rise up in the distance of the eastern side of the beach. It was a gorgeous ride, through lush jungle, with a seaside view most of the way. The taxi dropped us off in Cura – the closest point we could get to by car. Next was a 40-minute walk through mango plantations and down a mountain side, to the waterfall. It was hot, I was sweating everywhere, but I was so excited the heat didn't phase me. Soon enough, we could hear the waterfall in the distance – we were getting close. We approached the mountain pathway that led down to the waterfall – a quick climb up some rocks gave us the most breathtaking bird's-eye-view of the beautiful waterfall. We quickly navigated our way down the pathway. The little cove where the waterfall was snuggled in was nothing short of magical – I felt like I'd just wondered into a fairytale. The water from the fall had formed a beautiful circular lagoon of emerald green water and the trees that surrounded it were beautifully tropical, with twisting, turning trunks and lush green foliage. Straight away I jumped into the lagoon – it was freezing cold – the temperature literally took my breath away. I swam right up to the waterfall and let it beat down on my back whilst I held on to the rocks behind it. It was so perfectly beautiful. We enjoyed the falls for a couple of hours, but we were both conscious about the potentially challenging journey back to San Blas, so we bid farewell to the fairytale falls with plenty of daylight hours left. It took us 5 hours to get back to San Blas. 3 hitched rides on the back on pick-up trucks, a bus ride, and half an hour of having to sprint along a road eventually saw us back there, in the dark of night, gnarled by mosquitoes, but thankfully in one piece, and absolutely shattered. It was so worth it.

The following day was a very special day for the town of San Blas – it was the feast of the saint of the town – and was part of the reason why I had decided to stay. What an experience it was. The statue of the saint San Blas gets carried from the church to the marina, accompanied by a full Mexican brass band, and put on one of the big fishing boats. The boat then sets sail to a solitary sacred white rock off the coast of San Blas, to greet the statue of the Virgin Mary that sits upon it. All of the little fishing boats in the marina (and there are a lot of them) accompany the big boat to the rock. It just so happens that Guillermo's sister, Alejandra, is married to a fisherman, Ivan, who owns a boat. Seeing my excitement when he was telling me about the festival, Guillermo took it upon himself to ask Alejandra if it would be ok for us all to go out on Ivan's boat to accompany San Blas on his voyage to greet Mary. It was! We cycled over to their house where I met her, Ivan, and their 3 adorable children. We walked together to the marina and boarded the little boat – beers and snacks to hand.

We sailed out to the harbour where the big boat was docked, and awaited the arrival of San Blas. More little fishing boats were gathering in the water – some decorated with tinsel, balloons and bunting – all of them brimming with people who were eating, drinking – and getting merry...Mexican style. The statue of San Blas arrived, accompanied by his brass band, and was placed onto the big boat. We set sail, Ivan purposefully remaining as close as he could to the big boat. The other little fishing boats grew in number until all I could see behind us were fishing boats. It was wonderful. We sailed past the beach where I surf every day, to the white rock that I always see in the distance. Looking onto the town of San Blas from out at sea makes you realise how beautiful it is. Mountains rise up on the southern side, untamed jungle sprawls out to the northern side. It's long, sandy palm-fringed beaches looked paradisical. We received blessings from the priest, then bumpily sped off westwards, for a fishing-boat joy ride through the waters that surround the jungle before heading back into the marina. That night the plaza was brimming with people, all dressed in their best, looking fabulous. It was totally buzzing. After a performance from the brass band, the firework display was commenced. Whistling Catherine wheels span with pretty multi-coloured designs, their sparks making people screech with glee. I felt so lucky to have had the opportunity to be part of it all.

I had heard from Lucy that Sayulita was amazing, so I decided to bid farewell to San Blas and head further south down the Pacific Coast. On my last night in San Blas, Guillermo invited me to have dinner at his sister's house with her family. It was lovely to see them all again. She cooked a delicious fish fillet and Ivan had prepared a fresh ceviche – a raw fish salad...which was utterly divine. The homes of the people of San Blas are simple – and far from luxurious. Alejandra and Ivan live in a small, one-storey house with a concrete floor. They all sleep in the same room and have few creature comforts. But still they are happy, generous – totally willing to open their home and extend their welcome to a complete stranger. Again I felt my life being put into perspective. It made me realise how lucky I am, how much I have, how much we, who live in the West, all have. Yet another reminder to me to never take what I have for granted – to be grateful for everything I have, and to use the abundant possibilities that my life has to offer for the benefit of all.

I felt excited to see what Sayulita had to offer, and as I stepped off the bus and walked into the town I had a great feeling. “I think I'm going to really like it here”, I thought to myself. This place is absolutely gorgeous. The town is pretty, dainty, and very neatly organised, built totally around the coast. Even when you're on the beach, you're only a 2-minute walk from the central plaza, where there are a plethora of great eateries, pretty little shops, and market stalls. Everything is at your finger tips here – there are organic shops, great juice bars, plenty of delicious street food vendors, pharmacies that sell 100% natural, organic toiletries, a plethora of yoga studios – and most importantly – beautiful beaches that have great waves for surfing (which is now, of course, an essential requirement!) You can sit on the main beach, which is busy with surfers and sunbathers, or take a 30-minute walk north to one of the more secluded beaches, where you can have the coastline virtually to yourself. The Lonely Planet disappointingly belittles this wonderful little town, but Lucy and I absolutely love it here. It has a wonderful energy, the people here are beautiful...there's sun, sea, surf, yoga, organic food, green smoothies, a weekly farmer's market, jungle – and inspiring new friends...we're definitely not in any rush to leave. Good job we didn't listen to the Loney Planet. I think a Liz and Lucy Guide To The World needs to be written...