Circus freaks in Mazunte
Circus freaks are just people who are better at being freakishly good at things. So good that we make them run away and join the circus.
We went to Mazunte to watch the runaways in action. Getting there was fantastic.
A heavenly ride through the clouds into San Jose Del Pacifico started our trip. Known for its (currently out of season) mushrooms, San Jose is a small tourist town that thrives on the draw of the small fungi. It also happens to boast some magical views, and as we would soon find: magical roads.
After a cheap night in the mountains, (120 pesos for a private room), the road to Mazunte started terribly. Potholes EVERYWHERE. Many terribly placed in the middle of corners.
These would abate, soon giving way to my favorite road this trip. Scraping footpegs really is satisfying!
Jayne wasn’t too far behind, loving every second too!
On to the freaks! Speaking of runaways, we had heard of the Circus festival from our friend Anja, recently “runaway” from her own stay at the Sanctuary where we first met her. The El Nagual hostel is where she was staying, thus where we parked the bikes too. But we hadn’t even run into Anja yet when Alex showed up a day ahead of “schedule” with Ida, Leti and Claudia not far behind! Together we consumed an entire dorm room.
We caught the final three days of the circus fest. There were fantastic performances, and some not so fantastic. The worst performances came from hippie parents not controlling their kids. Multiple occasions saw kids running onto the stage, nearly kicked, set on fire or crash tackled. None of these “nearly’s” came to fruition, to the dissapointment of the crowd. The biggest applause of the three nights came when a clown dove at an escapee child, only narrowly missing her. Woulda taught the rest of those kids a lesson I tells ya… that or if the flaming whip caught one of them behind the ear.
With 6 in one room, and 7 in our crew, the group think troubles of indecisiveness showed themselves on occasion. Fortunately everyone was happy to go off and do their own thing. My thing was playing ultimate on the beach everyday.
In future, I will take photos of Ultimate for the ‘Ultimate’ride blog. When I do, they will appear in about this region of the blog post. For now, imagine multiple days of ulti on the beach.
Like this beach:
Swimming in the waves was terrifyingly fun. Getting out past the break was hard enough, timing your swim back in without being slammed into the bottom took finesse. Turns out that I missed the color coding that goes along with “swim between the flags”. When the flags are red, DON’T SWIM. The lifeguards would inform us someone died one beach over during our stay. Back to the frisbee. And massages.
Mazunte is a bit of a hippy town, wherein you can find free workshops all over. One such workshop was to allow newly trained masseuses to practice. We took that opportunity.
Massages didn’t cure all that ailed us. We had some good nights out. Alex and I had the “sit” of a lifetime. It’s interesting how two plastic chairs among a large throng of dirty hippies can make for hours of entertainment. Just point the chairs and demand to be entertained! Jayne rescued a drunk lass who had fallen asleep in the street, violin and amp laying beside her. She slept in the hammock at our hostel, not knowing where she lived. She also vomited beside that hammock, leaving behind the wafting smell of vomit every time you sat in that hammock afterwards. Maybe she should have been left in the street. Speaking of vomit, half our room ended up sick with stomach ailments, colds, or both. Jayne and I moved out into our tent to escape. Alex did too, but was too late. A nasty cough took him over. He would not improve quickly. The girls were staying to work at the hostel, and we knew we would meet up with Alex down the road, so Jayne and I said our goodbyes and left them all to heal at the hostel while we left to find ourselves a less inhabited beach down the highway. We succeeded.
Motorcycle Minute: I fixed Alexs’ blown fuse on his 12v plug. Putting the multimeter to use!
Met a KLR gent headed to Argentina and back in 2 months! He’s likely in Argentina now, having seen little and bought lots of gasoline. Each to his own. Neat guy too!
Jugs has a ‘knock’ from the front end over bumps on occasion. I think the 80000kms has begun to wear down the front suspension a touch. Nothing critical for now.