The Dark Rose's Traces

  We took a chivera to the main bus stop where the route to Pochutla begins. This stop is located opposite Puerto’s largest supermarket, Chedraui. The bus was quite comfy and in a functional state—somewhere between an ADO and an AU bus line. Before boarding, we bought refreshments at a local store and started our carefree adventure! The bus traveled along the main highway to Huatulco, known as "La Costera." From the bus, you could appreciate the magnificent Pacific Ocean in the distance on the right, along with the surrounding nature. We passed many places: Zicatela, La Punta, Barra,  Escobilla  and Ventanilla , to name a few. We also drove past a mezcalería. We could have made a stop there, but we decided to save it for our return trip. I was taken aback by the barren and untouched nature that my eyes beheld. At that time, in comparison to many other Mexican beach destinations, the Oaxacan coast remained unexplored and blessed without tourist exploitation. The journey to...

  Upon arriving in Zicatela, the lively nightlife beckoned, but weariness guided us to an early night, anticipating a refreshed start. Our accommodation boasted a rooftop terrace, offering a breathtaking panoramic view of Zicatela Beach, stretching from La Punta to Playa Marinero. Under the moonlit sky, we watched the distant colossal waves crash, their thunderous roar a soothing lullaby that night. My alarm, set for 7 a.m., heralded a bright, warming day. Eager for my beach run, I quickly dressed and headed out. The descent to the shore was rugged, with dilapidated houses and snarling stray dogs marking the path. Crossing the main road, I was met with a "Behold, Paradise!" moment—a vast, stunning beach. Slipping off my flip-flops, I began my barefoot run. It was a more challenging workout, yet gentler on my joints than concrete. The rhythmic crash of ocean waves, the distant cries of seagulls, and the caress of the morning breeze created a poetic scene. The beach was surpris...

As we approached “La Punta,” a delightful sight unfolded: numerous surfers sat or paddled, patiently waiting for the perfect wave. Watching them filled me with joy, as learning to surf has always been a fervent desire. In my deepest fantasies, I constantly dream of the ocean. I'm either swimming or surfing, immersed in the water and feeling the impact of the crystal-clear waves breaking over me. The waves crashing on the sandbar created a massive explosion of sound. You could sense the immense power of Mother Nature in the impact, and the vulnerability of being human; caught in the curl, your skull or body could be smashed against the seabed, leading to severe injury or death. The foam of the breaking waves washed over our feet, a truly pleasant sensation. It's a special characteristic of the Mexican coast. The warm ocean in southern Mexico makes for a particularly inviting beach experience; not many countries can boast of both beautiful beaches and waters warm enough to entice...

Part One:  The Turning Tide   "It's not the same to visit a place as a tourist as it is to live there and experience the real thing." Countless individuals have heard this before, and it holds a deep-seated truth. For many, the vision of a perfect escape is a remote, isolated haven: an immense coastline of white sand, crystal-clear water, and palm trees heavy with coconuts. Harmless, colorful fish swim in ideal-temperature waters, neither too shallow nor too deep. All of this plays out in your deepest desires as a miraculous creation, fashioned purely for your enjoyment, much like those breathtaking AI images that spontaneously generate from your most casual prompts. This paradisal hallucination, meticulously crafted in your mind, beckons you to run on that endless beach and leap into the vast ocean. The outcome? A feeling of profound refreshment, a rebirth—becoming one with the almighty and nature itself! Sounds fantastic, doesn't it? This scene often plays in your m...