Sidetrips Around Oaxaca

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Oaxaca is a wonderfully well-rounded state. With amazing food in the capital city, plenty of nearby crafts towns, ancient ruins sites and miles of coastline, it's a great place to get acquainted with Mexico.

My favorite ventures out of the city were our daytrip to Cuajimoloyas (with return stop in Tlacolula) and the quick jaunt over to San Bartolo Coyotepec.

Even in a small colonial town like Oaxaca, it's nice to get away for some outdoors time, and our visit with the weaving family in Tlacolula was absolutely delightful. San Bartolo was purely a shopping trip, but every bit of pottery was an amazing work of art and the friendly artisans made the experience even more fun than shopping in the Oaxaca market.

I've never been a beach person, yet I visit the beach on almost every international trip that I take. Generally, there has to be something special about the beach I choose, and Mazunte unfortunately wasn't quite good enough. We'd been encouraged to go by a friend who adored it, but I found it boring. There's no reef for snorkeling, only boat trips for finding dolphins and turtles, which are unavailable if the sea is rough. If I got a chance to revisit Oaxaca I'd have to be cajoled into trying a different beach town; otherwise I'm much happier in the highlands. But for those who are more into sun and surf than I am, tiny Mazunte is incredibly relaxing and a wildly different experience than the famous resorts of Mexico.

While Monte Alban is definitely a worthwhile trip, I recommend either taking a tour or reading up more on the site before heading out there. The signs posted at the various buildings were not particularly informative. However, the site is just beautiful, with well-preserved ruins and lovely views over the valley.

With so many options just outside the capital, Oaxaca is a destination I've recommended to families, first-timers to Mexico, and those hoping to experience great variety with limited time.

Quick Tips:

Beach food: I assumed great, inexpensive seafood would abound here, but the cheapest item was a fast-food-like fish sandwich, and the fish filet preparations Rubina & Jasmine tried were a bit on the dry side. On the plus side, whole fish was prepared perfectly. Fill up on moles and other traditional treats before leaving Oaxaca...the tlayuda rendition I tried was not nearly as good as the ones in the city market.

Choosing a beach: After my trip, I'd recommend only serious beach lovers visit Mazunte. There is really nothing else to do there—it's hardly a party town. In our case, we figured there would be snorkeling with sea turtles for entertainment, but the mild effects of the tropical storm took away that option.

Market towns: Oaxaca is a crafts-lover's paradise, with the best ceramics, jewelry and woven goods often coming from just the next town over. Check out the "Crafts Route" section in the Moon Guide for towns in the Oaxaca Valley for the specialty that interests you, or plan a visit around the weekly market schedule.

Best Way To Get Around:

Oaxaca has a great public transportation system, both locally and around the state. As uncomfortable as it is, the Oaxacan coast can be reached by second-class bus in 9 hours for less than —with the much more expensive first-class bus taking 2 hours longer on a smoother route. The second-class bus station is actually in walking distance, but the traffic can be nightmarish so definitely take a taxi when toting luggage.

Mazunte is a 100-peso taxi ride from Pochutla, with taxis easily found just outside the bus station. The town is so small you can walk to the turtle museum or the cosmetics factory or any number of places to eat. But for nearby Playa Ventimilla, getting a taxi is recommended; note that it's harder getting a ride for the return trip.

There are smaller, local bus stations around Oaxaca as well, and from one of these we caught our bus to San Bartolo Coyotepec. A quick trip costing only 4 or 5 pesos (seems arbitrary), San Bartolo is easy to reach and well worthwhile.

While buses to go to Cuajimoloyas, I heartily recommend the services of Bicicletas Pedro Martinez. The relatively comfortable jeep ride and Pedro's kind guidance made the trip special.

We arrived at Cabañas Ziga at 5:30 in the morning, thoroughly exhausted. Although the owners sleepily acknowledged our arrival, we waited almost an hour until the hotel officially opened. Luckily, the bathrooms just off the restaurant were free and clear.

The hotel was decently priced for the beach, at 300 pesos for a triple. The deck/restaurant was covered in lovely tropical plants, while the steps and areas around the room appeared to be under construction. We got a true triple, with one double bed and one twin, both with mosquito nets. The bathroom was quite basic, with an uncovered shower and not much water pressure.

The first morning after our chilly stomach-turning bus ride, we were so happy to lay down that the room temperature felt fine, but that same night it was oppressively hot. We left the screen-less window open—my theory was, I was the furthest from the windows anyway so the other girls would get robbed first—but there was very little breeze.

The family that runs Cabañas Ziga is perfectly polite, but not friendly...especially compared to people we met in the capital. It was also quite obvious the reception area was not continuously staffed, even during the day, so the concept of leaving the key behind the desk was sometimes worrisome. Luckily, we really never had a rush to get anywhere and the reception/restaurant area was a comfortable place to wait.

The restaurant was great for breakfast. Quesadilla was pretty good, but the best dish was a fresh fruit salad covered in yogurt, honey and avena (oatmeal). Absolutely delectable with a tall glass of chocobanana.

We'd arrived in the morning and paid upfront for the first night, but the second day we planned on taking the overnight bus back to Oaxaca. The owners were adaptable, and charged us half price for our second day. We actually had until 8pm, which was pretty generous and allowed us to visit the beach well into the afternoon and shower before heading out.

The road is much higher than the beach here, so the hotel is a few flights of stairs down to the sand...might not be conducive to night swimming, especially for klutzy types like myself.

Cabañas Ziga is located in a nice quiet spot of beach, although Mazunte is so small it doesn't seem like any part of it would be noisy. Not super-budget if you travel with fewer people, but I doubt there's much competition here; there are far more hotels along the beach than the guidebooks imply, but Cabañas Ziga is definitely recommended for those looking for something relatively inexpensive.

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I go to ruins for the pretty scenery. In theory, I also go because I enjoy soaking in history; but as my trips to various sites are often somewhat unplanned, I rarely read as much background material as I should.

Such was the case with Monte Albán. Oaxaca had called out to me mainly as a chowhound destination. I should be ashamed to admit I didn't even know there were several Zapotecan settlements all less than an hour from Oaxaca City...but, eh, I really didn't have much time to prepare.

We decided Saturday night that Monte Albán was the plan for the following morning; so my lazy ass didn't get around to even reading my guidebook's section on the area. We got a slow start—as three gals sharing a bathroom sometimes do—and after a leisurely breakfast of delicious chilaquiles finally headed out to tourist bus office at Hotel Rivera del Angel.

The bus cost 37 pesos, with roundtrips scheduled a few times per day. So after a short, lovely ride through the nearby mountains, we arrived at Monte Albán during the brightest midday sun—meaning in addition to not knowing much about the former civilization I was visiting, I also wasn't going to get my pretty pictures.

Hilltop Monte Albán was the capitol of the Zapotec civilization for about 1200 years. Archaeologists recognize 5 distinct periods in the Valley of Oaxaca's history, called Monte Albán I-V. The remains of the complex mostly date from Period III (300-800 A.D.). Periods IV and V saw the invasion by the Mixtecs, who won the war despite small numbers, due to Monte Albán's declining power and population. The civilizations blended to create new art and architecture, seen in other nearby sites like Yagul and Mitla.

We didn't pay to get in, which confused me. Rubina decided the site was free; I theorized our bus ticket included the entrance fee (although we weren't asked to show our tickets); through internet research I learned the site is free on Sundays, but only to Mexicans. This only served to confuse me more. Just past the visitor's center, a wizened old man asked if we needed a guide. We turned him down politely. Immediately he fired back in English, "You think you're so smart? What do you think you're looking at? Do you even know? Why you come here anyway?" followed by some old-man noises best summed up as "ennnngh."

However, I now believe a guide—or at least a guidebook—is a worthwhile accessory. The signs around the site are in English, and seem to be directly translated from the Spanish, but are generally uninformative. Everything was deemed a Temple, a Platform, an Altar, or a T-P-A—a Temple-Platform-Altar, believe it or not. Eventually we gave up on the hope of learning and simply enjoyed climbing the various buildings to get views over the lushly green Oaxaca Valley.

The lawns around the ruins themselves seem rather manicured. Hardly a bad thing...but not exactly the fantasy of buildings hidden within creeping jungle overgrowth. The site was relatively busy, mainly with locals, but a weekday or early-morning visit should see fewer crowds. My guidebook notes that it's a nice picnic spot, and I'd have to agree.

The small museum in the visitor's center contains beautifully-preserved bas-reliefs; the ones outside on the site are replicas. The museum also features artifacts from the tombs, such as pottery, weapons and full skeletons. The attached store has a wonderful book collection as well, and would probably be a good place to pick up a map or guidebook before heading out to the site.

Even without really learning anything about the Zapotec or Mixtec civilizations, I greatly enjoyed seeing the ruins. The pyramids are not as grand as those found elsewhere in Mexico, and we grew a little weary of T-P-As, but you can't beat the proximity or ticket price.

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We'd been seeing the pearly-black intricately-carved barro negro pottery all over town, but after the pleasant experience of directly supporting women artisans by shopping at MARO, we felt we would similarly prefer buying pottery from the source.

San Bartolo is a mere 20-minute bus ride out of Oaxaca. Several painted Bluebird schoolbuses made the trip from the Armana y Lopez terminal, we simply asked around for the next one. We were rather arbitrarily charged 5 pesos on the way there and 4 pesos for the bus we flagged down on the way back; on our return we were conveniently dropped near 20 de Noviembre rather than at the terminal.

This small town seemed full of family-run pottery shops, but the bus stopped in front of the main artisans market, so we confined ourselves there. We popped our heads into a few shops, marveling that the delicate work cost a mind-boggling $2 - $8 per pot, and then met the sweetest lady.

I'm a potter myself, so I always have a special interest in seeing artists at work; I was mildly disappointed there were no studios near the market. But when we inquired about seeing the pottery being made, the lady smiled and indicated the boxes at her feet loaded with vases in the leather-hard stage. She proceeded to scrape, carve and poke designs into a vase with pencils and other simple tools, and completed 3 new pots while we watched slack-jawed. Her dexterity was amazing!

She explained that the vases were actually hand-built, which surprised me; they were so uniform I couldn't believe they weren't thrown on a wheel. She told us her whole family knew how to make barro negro. Would have loved to learn more about the black glaze, but without a way to actually demonstrate, we probably wouldn't have understood her explanation. [I read later that it's not a glaze; the clay turns black when fired and the pieces are then burnished until shiny].

Every shop had some similar vases, but each had a few unique items: one shop had more wide & low vases, one had more candleholders/candlecovers, and one had fantastic, elaborately-designed skinny vases. At this particular shop, Rubina accidentally set her bag of purchases down a bit too hard, instantly breaking one of the delicate pieces. The sweet shop owner unhesitatingly offered her a trade, which she only accepted after his repeated insistence. Unfortunately while the shapes were all the same, the surface designs were slightly different so she couldn't get an exact replacement.

Another shop featured black ceramic jewelry, which was quite cheap and great as unique gifts for our friends. There were necklaces of varying lengths, some with linked circles, some with pebble-shaped beads, some with flat chip beads. These beautiful and unusual pieces garner all of us plenty of compliments back home.

A word of warning: none of the artisans used real padding other than newspaper. This is pretty typical wrapping for potters but far-flung tourists will need to take extra care. I was lucky and was allowed to bring my small duffel on board the bus back to Mexico City; Rubina had bought one of those plastic striped string bags from the market to hold her barro negro, which the attendants deemed too large to fit on board. Sadly one of her vases broke while in the storage compartment.

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As fun as it was to spend our days wandering the markets and our nights at drunken karaoke with locals, this vacation needed just a bit more physical activity. With the Sierra Norte tantalizingly close, an overnight trip to Cuajimoloyas seemed like the way to go.

Until we heard the price, that is...$111. We'd decided just the previous night to go up to the mountains, and by Bicicletas Pedro Martinez's opening hour of 9AM, it was a little late to scramble for a cheaper option using local transport and our own hotels.

If we tried taking public transportation we also might have needed to wait until the following day, when we were already planning to head to the beach. We questioned the need for a guide (further cost-cutting measures) but Pedro insisted, and later we had to agree he was right.

Pedro, a former professional mountain-biking champion, offered us another option: $60 for a day trip including transportation, a guided hike, lunch, and a stopover in the weaving town Tlacolula. Despite the terrible injury he sustained after a motorcycle accident, leaving him limping with a cane and perhaps never riding again, Pedro asked with a hopeful smile if we wanted to ride bikes. I'm terrified of bicycles for rather irrational reasons, so I insisted on hiking only.

After breakfast in 20 de Noviembre mercado and buying $5 rain ponchos in Benito Juarez Mercado, we headed off in Pedro's jeep. The ride up was incredibly bumpy and foggy, making me grateful we weren't taking the bus. After about an hour of steady uphill climbing, we arrived in the tiny town of Cuajimoloyas.

At 3200 meters the damp mist was extra chilly. Here we signed in at the tourist office and met our Spanish-speaking guide, Octavio. According to Moon Guide to Oaxaca, Cuajimoloyas is the closest thing to a major metropolis this mountainous region offers. I noted 2 restaurants, so it must be true. The sign proclaiming a precise population of "1003" provided tremendous amusement.

Jasmine put on her cone-shaped poncho immediately, much to our merriment. I decided I'd wait until it rained for real.

We set off into the forest with our guide who essentially didn't speak to us unless telling us where to go...reminding me of the horse "guide" I had in Tupiza who was more of a handler with no information to impart. We trudged on a dirt path passing mountainside homes, saw some sweet puppies and chatted with a few locals also out for a walk.

But we wouldn't visit the Sierra Norte just to stroll on a path. We scrambled up slippery slopes covered in lava rocks, squeezed through trees, climbed into the mouth of a small cave, and perched on a giant rough boulder with amazing views of the valley. In some spots we had to remove our ponchos despite the rain, because the extra fabric flapping loose would have been dangerous.

Eventually the rain started in earnest, and the final rock climb was too slippery for me; I was amazed that Rubina and Jasmine made it up (with some help) in sneakers while I never felt comfortable with the grip my hiking boots had on the rock. After climbing up a few levels I was ready to come down.

We wound back down to the road, where Pedro and another man drove up and met us to make sure we were doing well. It was only a 45-minute walk back on the dirt path to Cuajimoloyas, but with a sudden urgent need to use the restroom, I opted for the 10-minute ride.

Despite the rustic appearance of the town, the visitor's center restroom is modern and well-maintained. Hey, some people like to know.

Back together in town, we visited Comedor Montaña for a late lunch. According to Pedro, their best dish was salsa and cheese, but they were out of cheese that day. We ate salsa and eggs instead, which was delicious and quite filling with the provided tortillas and crumbly pan dulce. A big bowl of piping hot chocolate con agua took the edge off the mountain air. After that satisfying meal, we were happy to head back to the pretty, bustling town of Oaxaca for a well-deserved night out.

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Pedro offered us a chance to meet a family in Tlacolula that made rugs; ostensibly we would learn the process of making natural dyes, spinning yarn and weaving on a loom, but of course we were well aware that we would be encouraged to buy as well.

The family turned out to be so delightful that we were eager to buy from them. Pedro hadn't been able to apprise the family in advance of our visit, but they were so welcoming and friendly. This particular family did not participate in the Tlacolula market; with Josefina Méndez López's unique designs (along with traditional designs), customers probably sought out her family's work. But during low season, made even less touristy due to Oaxaca's civil unrest, it was entirely possible the family went a long time without a sale. The rain probably didn't help matters.

Josefina and her husband patiently hung up and spread out all the rugs they had for sale, while her mother showed us how to comb wool. It was much harder than it looked, and when Rubina and I gave it a try we realized how strong the old lady was. While Jasmine was entranced by the family's goats, we watched abuela gracefully spinning wool, and then took our turn breaking every strand while the family grinned cheerfully.

Josefina demonstrated various fruit and vegetable dyes, and even a bright red dye made by crushing cochineal insects with a small rolling pin. Her husband then showed us the loom he had built himself, and how to weave a more traditional design. This process was far more tedious and time-consuming but in my opinion, less difficult than spinning wool. The traditional designs were essentially built on pattern repeats; it was obvious Josefina's special designs took far more planning.

The prices were reasonable considering the craftsmanship and beauty of the Josefina's designs. We all live in small spaces and didn't want to carry too much, so large rugs were out of the question. A small rug (just under 2'x3') of Josefina's own invention was 600 pesos, or $54. A traditional repeat-pattern rug ranged from $36-$40. I was thrilled with my blue-bordered green rug, and received a free woven potholder with my purchase.

Josefina's small darling daughter already knew how to card wool. She was extraordinarily shy, and spent most of the time playing with her creepy hairless doll. I took a few photos of her, and upon seeing herself in my camera's screen she warmed up. By the end of our visit she was giggling and telling me I was beautiful.

After a few more photos of the family, we reluctantly said our goodbyes. Even though this was shopping-disguised-as-education, we had thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

Fighting heaves with every twist of the road, I cursed the "chocolate corn" Pedro Martinez kindly treated us to back in Oaxaca City. Every bump threatened a repeat of that ...unique...flavor. As sketchy as the bus had seemed at first glance, I was grateful for one thing: I had the seat to myself, so if I needed to make use of the solitary plastic bag I dug from my belongings, no one would be unnecessarily put out.

The journey began at the decrepit second-class bus station in Oaxaca. We'd already forgone the first-class bus, which took the nicer, straighter road, but for two extra hours and significantly more pesos. Our choices were limited, as very few bus companies serviced the coast; Estrella de Valle gave the options of an ordinario to Puerto Angel (lots of stops but closer to our final destination Mazunte) or the directo to Pochutla ("direct" meaning few stops, not nonstop). After one look at the tattered bus to Puerto Angel, we plunked down 85 pesos for Pochutla.

Now, I've left my cozy apartment once or twice before, so I've seen my share of rough travel conditions. But this bus station had the most overnight "guests" of any I've ever witnessed. We kept alert to our surroundings, but when a policeman came by to ensure we were watching our bags, we wondered if we were downplaying the danger. And the bathroom was the second-nastiest in my experience; second only to the trench toilets of China, which will not be topped for some time.

A minimal payment of 2 pesos garnered me one square of toilet paper and entry into a stinking two-stall closet with sopping wet floor, missing seats and a waterless sink. I discovered only when I looked for the flush lever why there had been giant drums of water by the door: users were required the flush the toilets manually with buckets. I always carry liquid soap and bottled water so my friends and I were able to wash our hands in the parking lot; since it seemed unlikely others were doing the same, the prospect of touching anything in the bus station was extremely unappealing. Getting on the bus was a relief.

That feeling didn't last long, however. The road was hardly the worst I've ever taken, but perhaps that 3rd beer followed by a large bowl of atole added to my revulsion. The actual distance between the capitol and the coast is not great, but the winding, looping mountain road stretched the journey to 9 full hours.

Not long after we got underway, the driver popped in The Wailer, a straight-to-video cheesefest in which stupid American tourists are brutally murdered by the ghost of La Llorona while taking a self-centered sex-filled Mexican holiday. Why are Latino bus drivers so partial to horror and/or super-violent action movies, even on overnight rides? As idiotic as it was, I did my best to focus on it rather than think about what type of breathing pattern stimulated my gag reflex the least.

The only chance for fresh air was at a mountainside toilet break—in the truest sense of the term, as this was no gleaming rest stop with a snack bar and smoking lounge. The air at this elevation was absolutely frigid, but I happily dashed off the bus for the 3 metal shacks with long-drop toilets so I could worry over one less problem.

I gulped the sweet cold air, but back on the bus, my queasiness revived within minutes. Fully into the chilled mountain night, my rolling stomach now battled my shivers for attention; eventually I passed out from sheer force of will.

I can say without any hyperbole that Tropical Storm Alvin ruined my beach trip.

All right, but if I hadn't been with friends, Mazunte would have probably sucked. The main draw for us was the opportunity to snorkel with sea turtles and possibly spot dolphins. But with rough seas and daily rain caused by the storm a full 1000 miles or more away, no boats were making the journey for the 2 days we were in town.

I'm the first to admit I'm not a beach rat. I generally only visit the beach when I'm traveling and the beach has to be special; if I visit the beach in New York there must be at least 4 amusing friends and a whole lot of alcohol. I've loved the more unique beaches on my other trips, like the one with spectacular snorkeling in Egypt and the one that I had completely to myself in Costa Rica. Even the one in Turkey that I kind of disliked due to the hippies had ruins to walk through on the way and phosphorescence in the water at night. Mazunte was like that beach in Turkey, without the ruins and phosphorescence, but still containing hippies. I was so lucky to have Rubina and Jasmine for entertainment.

It was hot. Freaking hot. At upwards of 95 degrees with chowder-thick humidity, my two days in Mazunte were spent in a puddle of sweat. The water was still icy cold in May, but with the crashing waves, there was no relaxing soaking-off of perspiration; playing in the waves was fun but also exhausting. Without the sea turtle experience, it was just...kind of boring.

On the plus side, low season meant fewer hippies. We weren't really approached until evening, although we had of course seen our share of dreadlocked beach bums stick juggling—argh, those damn stupid sticks! While the locals approached us at breakfast selling shell jewelry, white hippies approached on the beach hoping to sell us the sticks. Sales were low all around.

Other than running from the waves and sweating, Mazunte offered a few diversions. We couldn't see turtles in the wild because of the storm, but the sea turtle museum down the road from our hotel offered a great opportunity to see various turtles up close; a guided tour cost just 20 pesos.

Up the road in the other direction was a store with beauty products made from local organic ingredients; while the products were beautifully packaged, the only thing happening at this store was the packaging. Would have loved to learn more about the process and formulations, but considering how nice everything was (Body Shop quality), shopping was fun and reasonably-priced.

Mazunte was fairly underpopulated in general. I wondered if our hotel owners found it monotonous. I also wondered how the adult daughter running the hotel could meet a husband in this tiny town...she must have already known all the residents at this point. Considering that finding a huge dead puffer fish on the beach was one of the highlights of the trip—a find that amused the locals greatly as well—it seemed like a dull life.

The best meal on the coast was whole fish smothered in chipotle sauce. The other fish preparations we tried were only so-so, but the whole fish was absolutely luscious. With our delicious shrimp-stuffed avocado appetizer, it easily could have fed all three of us; I should certainly hope so at 120 pesos! I wish I'd noticed the price wasn't listed on the menu. (I shouldn't complain I suppose...I was on paid vacation.)

Other Oaxacan specialities like tlayudas were not nearly as good on the beach. But we did stumble upon something special in the form of chocobanana...that fabulous Oaxacan chocolate milk blended with banana was good at all hours.

When the 19-year-old German boy approached us during dinner, shorts barely supported by his skinny naked hips, Jasmine thought we'd hit the entertainment jackpot. But when she told him she was Indian, and he chortled, "dots or feathers?" we knew there was no point in continuing the conversation. We were invited to participate in "fire-dancing," but the sweltering heat made me cranky and I just can't hang with hippies.

Normally on my beach trips I prefer to sleep early and wake early; with friends sharing a room this wasn't as much of an option. There was nothing to do in Mazunte at night but the girls insisted on optimistically walking around a while just in case. No bars, not even a place for ice cream (even tiendas were closed), and my staunch refusal to get involved in fire-dancing meant we ended up buying beers at the hotel and sitting on the roof (of course, the hotel also closes early so we only got 2 beers each).

Woke up lazily late on the second day, but having determined this beach wasn't that interesting, perhaps it was no great loss.

Playa Ventamilla was a short taxi ride away, offering a boat trip created by the community through a lagoon filled with local fauna. Due to the slow morning, we didn't take the trip until the blazing heat of noon, so crocodiles were a bit hard to spot (but super thrilling when we did!). However, the diversity of birds was delightful; they covered the trees as thickly as flowers.

The boat trip ended at a small island, which featured a small zoo of local creatures and a refreshment shop. The most popular item was whole coconut: first a hole was made for drinking the water, then the coconut was sliced open to provide access to the meat. With some hot sauce, it was delicious.

On the ride back through the lagoon we draped our towels over our heads in an attempt to block the scorching sun. There was no shelter on the road, however, as the taxi driver who'd promised to return for us apparently forgot, and there weren't any drivers hanging out in the lagoon's parking lot hoping for fares. At least we hadn't paid up front! We were forced to trudge back up the road in the muggy heat, and reached the halfway point to Mazunte before we found a ride.