Day 6 and 7 - Heading to San Pancho

Day 6 and 7 - Heading to San Pancho

First Days of Hardship

Sunday, March 6, 2016

If some of you are wondering what happened to day 5; well nothing happened on day 5. We hung out on the beach, worked, and chilled all day. I guess everyday can't be that interesting. However, I did wake up in the morning, and found bug bites all over my legs! It was like I was attacked by a fleet; not something I was happy about, as they would stay with me over the next two weeks.

Anyways, we were totally ready to get out of Puerto Vallarta, as we'd heard so much about the town Sayulita, which was about an hour bus ride north. If you have never heard about this town, you're not alone. We had no idea either, but got word that it was an awesome surfing town. Nick had been having surf withdraws, so it was only obvious we go there. I had tried to book a room in town, but it was way too expensive ($50 a night for a shitty hostel at best). After searching for forever on Expedia, I took a chance on a little village north of there called San Pancho, and booked a hostel there. From what I saw online, I was a little worried about this trip. The hostel looked way sketchier than the first one, but it was only $30 a night, and we were on a budget. Plus, the town had no pictures on Google, so we were going blind on what we were getting into.

The way there was about to be our standard way of getting around; lots of guessing, different forms of transportation, and wandering aimlessly. We had heard that there was a bus that took you to San Pancho, however it was located at the Walmart, which was on the other side of town. The only solution was to take a taxi in that direction, where we would hop on the bus, and head north. I didn't even mention that we had little to no money at this point, and my bag had started falling apart. The wheels had broken, and it was like dragging a dead body around. So once we had arrived at Walmart, we had to buy a new suitcase that would fit all of my crap, and we had to find a working ATM; not as easy as it seems. The one that we bought looked great, but after throwing all of my stuff in it, the wheels broke again! Nick was reluctant to keep it, but I said "screw it, we just paid $40 for this thing".

We soon found a line of buses, out front, that had written towns on the windshield. The one we hopped on only said Sayulita, but we had hoped it was going to our spot. It was a nice little bus at first; way nicer that the ones we had been on. However, each stop we arrived at, a ton of people came on. We started to wonder how many people they were going to cram on this thing. Eventually, there were kids and women standing in the middle ail, and people were started to sit on each others laps. Nobody was getting off, and I was starting to feel a bit claustrophobic. Finally, they all trickled off, and we were semi comfortable again.

The bus stop for San Pancho was in the middle of nowhere. We were let out on a dirt road, with a couple of fellow tourists, so we just ended up following them. We had no idea where the hostel was, and there were no street signs. Nick gave me his suitcase with the wheels that worked, as mine was too hard to pull. I then headed out in front of him hoping to find our spot, because I was was the one that booked this thing. It was hot, dusty, and there were no streets signs, so it was not fun at all. I looked back at Nick, because I hadn't heard much from him; I was stunned to see that he had picked up my 100 lb bag, and was carrying it on his shoulder. He was sick of dealing with it. Trying not to laugh, and feeling totally guilty that I was getting off easy, I was starting to panic when we couldn't find this place. Then, like a beacon, I saw the hostel sign right in front of us, and we were totally relieved.

The place, Hostal La Selva, was bright in front and dimly lighted in the back; it kind of looked like a dungeon. The girls at the reception desk knew little to no English, but somehow we managed to work everything out. One of them led us to our room, past a series of empty bunk beds, and I noticed that nobody was staying there. I never knew that this would be the case over the next four days. The room she opened was probably as big as a closet, and the bathroom was pretty nasty. The toilette had no seat, and the shower was even scarier. Yet, we were here for a few days, and we had to deal with it.

After putting away our things, we began to explore the town. There was only one main street, with lots of little shops, and a lot more expats than I had expected. The people were very natural, and extremely carefree; I guessed it wasn't going to be that bad after all. However, those bugs bites that I was telling you about flared up, and were driving me crazy! I was not a happy camper that first day, and it was hard to enjoy that cute little place.

The food we found that night, was probably the best that I had so far. It was called "Tacos con Amore", and let me tell you, they were definitely made with love. The shrimp tacos tasted like lobster, and Nick's pastor tasted like bacon. There were dogs traveling the streets, and they were all so friendly. Kids were running around playing, and people were waving at each other like they were family. It was a magical place at night, and I soaked up all of it.

Despite of all that, I started to get emotional once we got back in the room. I felt disconnected, vacant, and stuck. It seemed like the walls were closing in on me, in that small little closet that we were in. This is where the communication with your partner is key, as I wanted to tough it out, and hide it from Nick. Eventually, I told Nick exactly how I felt, and he was glad I did. We came to the conclusion, that I was starting to get effected by all of the traveling.The trip was starting to be a bit crazy, but I was glad to be still be doing it.