Finally

“I have been looking forward to this for an entire year” I said as the plate of benedictinos y cafe de olla was sat in front of me. We had a perfect view of Avocet in the anchorage; the only boat in this little slice of paradise. Lalaxtli restaurant is just a few steps away from the small beach that serves as a launch ramp and dinghy landing, operating out of what used to be an armory. Now the walls are crumbling as mother nature reclaims the space in the form of creeping vines, luscious trees and vibrant flowers creating a dreamy setting to enjoy their delicious menu. We were back on the mainland where there was abundance in not only food, but also our surroundings which restored my serotonin to a much-missed and more-manageable level. With a jugo verde para illvar we paid our bill and took a walk through the little town that served as our introduction to the tropics last season. 

The town had gone mostly unchanged with the same laid back beach vibes, but with the addition of some completed infrastructure. I was craving an iced coffee from the cute coffee shop on the corner that we spent a lot of time (and money) at last season, but was sad to see its palapa roof, tables, and general existence vanish from where we had last seen it. In its place, the building was vacant with no tellings of what it would transform into. As we continued to walk, vendors hosed down the dusty road as foot and motor traffic went back and forth. We carefully stepped over the pools of water that formed, making our way to the end of the road before walking up.

“This was easier when we had golf carts last year” Chris said while huffing for air with every elevated step. I jokingly asked if we would be hiking to the volcano crater which he quickly responded with a sharp “HELL no.” From the top of the road we watched the ocean glisten like a pool of diamonds and birds fly high in the thermals. We indexed the smell of pizza from the new nearby hotel for a later time as we returned to sea level for some birria tacos (even though it was late afternoon, and birria is a morning thing). 

The sun was setting, painting the half-mile-long stretch of beach with the tones of golden hour. Wind danced between the palms and the sound of crashing waves intertwined with various birdsongs. Mariachi bands played to evening beach goers as the laughs of children playing in the surf and sand echoed. And there was our Avocet, anchored alone in the distance – the reason we were here and able to soak up every bit of mainland magic.

More of the Same

Lalaxtli is one of those places where it’s so good you have no problem eating there multiple days in a row, which is why we didn’t feel any shred of guilt on our second glorious morning. After breakfast, we returned to Avocet to do some computer work (the boring side of nomadic living) while enjoying our last day of serenity before sailing into the (fun) chaos that awaited us just around the corner. As I typed away on my computer scheduling content for clients, checking emails, and of course writing new blog posts and articles, Chris shut his laptop and disappeared from my sight. Then, 

SPLASH

He  jumped over the starboard side into the water. “ITS. SO. WARM!” he said between dunks. It was true, the water was back to 80 degrees and life was on the up and up. By the late afternoon, we decided to stretch our legs ashore and use the golden light as inspiration to snap some film photos which I thought would be some of my best work… but more on that later. Back aboard Avocet we made dinner and prepped for our sail the following morning.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Homeward Bound

After two days of “grounding” ourselves in paradise we pointed our bow towards home, La Cruz de Huanacaxtle, the place that stole our hearts and supported us when our engine blew last season. We found our “family” there, and have been looking forward to returning since the minute we left last May. It was quite the homecoming, too… but more on that in the next post.

Fair winds,

Marissa (and Chris and Cleo)

P.S. You might have noticed my writing sort-of “lacked luster” when it came to my reflections on our Sea of Cortez adventures this year. I can read it more clearly now that I was fighting depression and other negative emotions, and as I review my notes from the mainland I can see the spark is back. With that said, I hope you enjoy the stories to come <3 If you would like to support our creations, consider becoming a member or Patreon supporter – cheers!