Puerto Escondido - Part Two - Big Breakfasts and Broken Bones

So there we were in Puerto Escondido, having a pretty nice time. Clairy still seemed a little suspicious of most of the elderly Americans we came across, and there were a whole load more than in most of the other places we'd been so far. But this was much more of an obvious touristy resort. We'd had a couple of occasions where people had been pretty horrible to the local staff in restaurants, which wasn't so pleasant.

According to Lonely Planet (are we using that phrase a little too much?) the place is also known as the Mexican Pipeline. This is a reference to the gurt mahoosive waves that abound on Playa Zicatella where we're currently residing that are comparable (possibly) to Pipeline in Hawaii.

Here's a picture I took on the one day when the surf did look pretty big. You can see it has the potential I reckon, although the piccy doesn't really do it justice.


On the plus side of the American influence is the artery busting brekky that I got to munch on. Clair even went for the pancakes too! Obviously she had it with fruit salad rather than the eggs, bacon and maple syrup that I went for.


Unfortunately the surf, currents and undertow make the vast Playa Zicatella pretty lethal for all but the surfers, so we made our way across the various other beaches and the town to one on the far side to go for a swim and had lovely days chillaxing on the beach.

Here's some nice pics we got on the way. This one's the Bahia Principle.


And this one is a view of a little sculpture carved into the rocks from a viewpoint on the way.


Clair got this pic of a tiny yellow finch type bird hanging onto the laces of a pair of shoes chucked over a telephone line. I didn't even notice it was there till she zoomed in on the camera. Seems it had a found an interestingly useful bit of shade from the boiling sun.


On the way back from the beach we bumped into this vast fella. He must have been a good two foot end to end. He didn't seem too bothered by us and just sloped off after we'd taken the picture.


So all seemed pretty good in Puerto Escondido. Unfortunately, the room we moved to from the utterly stunning Cassa de Dan y Carmen turned out to be pretty horiffic. When we arrived back from our day at the beach, a seriously musty and it has to be said slightly animal smell had developed in our cheapo room. Whilst showering you could see the number of mozzies flying about. Then finally when we actually pulled the covers back we found a gajillion tiny ants running round in both the beds.

When arranging the room with the slightly grumpy lady she had insisted that three days was the minimum you could rent it for, and as it was pretty cheap we thought sod it why not? I think looking back that it's probably a bit of a bad sign if someone says something like that, and maybe indicates that you're likely to leg it after one night. In the end (as you shall see) we decided to cut our losses and this was what we did.

So neither of us slept very well, but Clairy had a particularly bad night, and we set off in the morning not in the best of moods to get our washing done and maybe try and find us somewhere else. Having seen a couple of places that said laundry along the road by the beach, I left Clair at our vast breakfast place and endevoured to go sort the washing on my own.

The first place I came to is pictured below.


In a slightly sullen fashion I stomped up those two tiny steps and was looking around for someone to help me. Unfortunately, somehow, I managed to trip on the ledge of the top step, and twisted my sandals over each other as I fell backwards. I landed really heavily on the side of my right foot. It hurt like buggery and I swore at myself for being so clumsy, praying I hadn't done anything serious. I pushed myself up and hobbled off to try the next washing place.

It was really hurting, and having no luck with the washing at the second place either I limped back to Clair. She looked horrified at what I'd done. The foot had already swollen massively with two enormous lumps poking out.

Clairy jumped into action and soon we we're off in various taxis for a tour of Puerto Escondido's medical facilities. First was the a family planning clinic (cheers to Lonely Planet for that being the only medical facility listed). They pointed us round the corner to a rather underfunded but very helpful Red Cross facility. Who (apart from a grumpy doctor) were super enthusiastic and sent us on our way to a nearby X-ray clinic.

The lady at the clinic was very helpful and got me up on their genuine 1970's X-ray machine. Clair couldn't resist a piccy.


The X-ray doctor spotted immediately that I'd fractured my fifth metatarsal. Here's a pic we took of the X-ray, which we're keeping for posterity with the fracture helpfully circled by me.


BUGGER! What a total nightmare. My first broken bones ever within four weeks of going travelling!

The X-ray doctor lady didn't recommend we go back to the Red Cross place to get it plastered (not quite sure why), so off we popped to the local general medical facility in town. This place was pretty chaotic and was obviously the only free clinic in town judging by the massive amount of people waiting, but in the end it was only about an hour before a couple of really helpful young doctors had a good look at me and my X-ray and provisionally plastered me up.

They gave me a prescription for some anti-inflammatory and analgesic drugs, and suggested I head straight to a specialist elsewhere in town so he could have a look and to get some crutches. So off we popped again.

The next place was up two large flights of stairs, so it was well lucky we had such a nice Taxi driver who literally helped carry me up them. The doctor was also not about for the next two hours, so I got on with some reading while Clairy finally went and got our washing done. The poor girl had been carrying it around all day along with mine and her day packs.

Eventually a vast cheerful chap turned up and took me back down the stairs to his clinic, which was full of all kinds of crazy gadgets including a very prominently displayed machine (along with A1 sized promotional poster to go with it) which apparently cured almost all ailments from back pain to hernias. He then proceeded to use this on me (Clair looked extremely suspicious and I'm sure thought we were being conned) as it turned out to be an inverse vacuum cleaner that simply blew cold air on you. I have to say it did actually feel pretty darn good on my now gurt lumpen foot.

After that he did a very good job of recasting my leg. This time with the fiber glassy stuff that is well solid. His wifey also turned up with some top notch brand new crutches. He advised us that it would need to be plastered for four weeks, and the foot would be very stiff and painful when we finally hacked the plaster off, but that would only last for a couple of days. We paid up, and off we went.

Clair left me in some cool shade down by the beach and went to find some bareable accommodation for us to stay in as the old skanky place was down a million steps and there was no way I would have been able to handle that. By some hilarious twist of fate, we ended up staying in the very place where I'd done the deed, and we got to stare at those tiny steps every time we came out the door.

Here's a picture of me not appreciating the irony.


As I needed to do a fair amount of non-moving in the first few days, I got the pencils out and drew my first piccy of the travels.

I call it "The Kerbtard".


So that night we were settled into our thoroughly nice new accommodation and went out for some grub to our by now favourite restaurant right on the beach called 'Los Tios' (The Uncles) to watch the totally fantastic pacific sunset. Here's a picture Clair took from our seats.


And another with my leg in. As you can see I'm not too distraught about it.


I took this one just as the sun was disappearing over the horizon. It was amazing how fast it goes when it suddenly drops over.


We then proceeded to try out a few of their more interesting cocktails. Actually, I did, while Clair stuck to her tequila sunsets. This one sounded lovely, comprising coconut milk, strawberries and rum. I thought the name sounded suitably romantic, but when we looked it up it turned out to mean 'Silk Stocking'. Fortunately I have no problem drinking girly drinks, particularly when they are this tasty.


Then suddenly our waiter pointed our attention to the moon, and we got to see a full luna eclipse happen right before our eyes. A stunning way to finish off a pretty barking day.