This past week, Amy and I, along with a friend visiting from our former hometown of Santa Fe, New Mexico, USA, set out on a much-anticipated road trip from our village outside Oaxaca, Mexico to the Pacific Coast. With Highway 175 stretching before us, we embarked on our scenic drive. We had been to the coast on the same route about a month prior and the newly finished highway was smooth, clean and fast. This time we were stunned to find heavy damage along the way. Rocks and earth slides slowed down our drive and left us in awe and trembling. Men working heavy machinery were tasked the huge job of clearing the damage.
Our destination was Mazunte, a small coastal town known for its bohemian charm and laid-back energy. Nestled along the shore, Hotel Casa Ofelia became our sanctuary for three nights—a simple yet delightful hotel where the ocean itself seemed to breathe tranquility into every moment. Our days melted into a dream of sunlit waves, salty breezes, the lulling sound of crashing waves, and endless relaxation. Amy does not swim, but I went headlong into the surf when I could. The ocean there is dangerous for its forceful action and somewhat steep slope, so at least once I was warned by a lifeguard to only go in up to my knees. Fortunately there is another, spectacular and safe beach called San Augustinillo, just minutes away.
Mazunte has a way of slowing time. It attracts travelers, artists, and wanderers, all drawn to its eclectic, free-spirited atmosphere. To me, it has the feeling of Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco during the height of the hippie days in the late 1960´s. Very relaxed elemental people are on a permanent free-spirit groove. The ocean, ever-present, is guide—a steady force softening thoughts and smoothing away lingering tensions. We found a new favorite restaurant, grabbed delicious local coffee, visited a marvelous Turtle Museum. Spent sunset time walking along the shore, watching the sky transform into a canvas of fiery colors.
By the time we packed up to leave, we felt renewed. Three nights in eclectic Mazunte had worked its quiet magic, offering us space to breathe, to be still, and to simply exist in the presence of the sea.
The drive home was reflective and slightly strained with the landscape shifting once again. Then suddenly when we entered Oaxaca city I felt it—the warm embrace of home. The cobblestone streets, vibrant markets, and artistic soul welcomed us back.Charms we had momentarily left behind now felt even richer, layered with the peace we carried from the coast.
Sometimes, a journey is not about seeking something new but about stepping away just long enough to return with fresh eyes. Mazunte gave us that gift, and Oaxaca, in turn, received us with open arms.
For many of us, the winter solstice marks a time to reflect, recharge, and reconnect with the rhythms of nature. For my wife Amy and me, this year brought a longing for the Pacific Ocean’s embrace—a call we couldn’t ignore. After all, it is not that far a drive away. From our quiet village on the outskirts of Oaxaca, we set off on a journey to Mazunte, a jewel on Mexico’s Pacific coast. Known for its pristine beaches, bohemian charm, and soulful tranquility, this small seaside town seemed the perfect place to honor the year’s shortest day and longest night. Our plan was simple: to escape the everyday, soak in the ocean’s timeless wisdom, and welcome the return of longer days with an offering while surrounded by beauty and peace.
The joy of the Pacific Ocean is irresistible. As we reached Mazunte after a four hour drive—mostly on a new highway, the rhythmic crash of waves called us like an old friend, and soon we were in the water, laughing and leaping through the surf. Well, I was in the ocean. Amy does not swim, but likes to stride the sandy beach, waves licking her toes. The ocean’s embrace was cool yet invigorating, a timeless reminder of life’s playful, unrestrained energy. Frolicking in the shallows, we felt the weight of everyday worries melt away with each rolling wave. We enjoyed seeing people of all types and ages, in families, solo, with partners and dogs. A nude beach is not far away and sometimes young women were topless and unbothered.
Our days unfolded with a natural rhythm, guided by the sun’s ascent and descent. Walking along the beach at sunrise felt like stepping into a dreamscape—the light casting a golden hue across the sand, the ocean shimmering with the first blush of morning. As the day gave way to evening, we found ourselves in awe of fiery sunsets, their colors spilling across the horizon, mirrored in the rippling tide.
Mazunte’s vibrant charm extended beyond the shore. Strolling through town, we discovered eclectic shops offering everything from handmade jewelry to vibrant textiles. Each store felt like a small treasure chest, inviting us to linger and explore. The smell of fresh coffee and pastries often drew us into cozy cafes where time slowed, and we savored the simple pleasures of buttery croissants and rich, aromatic brews. Mexico’s coast produces some of the finest coffee in the world.
Beachside grills became our favorite dining spots, where we indulged in fresh fish grilled to perfection, seasoned with local spices, and accompanied by tangy salsas, ensaladas, and warm tortillas.
For me, during the three day sojourn, I felt the weight of troubles lift by the hour, until a new found sense of freedom settled inside.
When we returned home, our trusted house sitter greeted us warmly, our two dogs safely in tow, tails wagging with excitement. The house was just as we had left it, a comforting welcome back to our life in the village.
The next evening, we joined our dear neighbors, Mayolo and Marta, for Christmas Eve supper. Their home is just a short walk from ours, and over the years, they’ve become more than friends—they feel like family. Sitting around their table, sharing food and stories, it was clear how much our lives had intertwined, weaving a shared sense of belonging.
On Christmas Day, our neighbor Remedios and her young daughter visited to bake Christmas cookies with Amy. Without an oven of her own, Remedios brought her heartfelt enthusiasm to our kitchen. The house quickly filled with the sweet aromas of cinnamon and sugar. Her husband has been away in the United States for several years, and she raises her two children on her own with boundless love and resilience. Watching her laugh with her daughter while they rolled out dough was a touching reminder of her strength and grace.
Just last night, we hosted a gathering of ten neighbors at our home, a beautiful mix of Mexicanos and ex-pats. Around the table, we shared a meal accompanied by laughter and lively conversation. The hours slipped by as we toasted, told stories, and celebrated the season, the warmth of connection lingering long after the last plate was cleared. It was one of those evenings that deepened our gratitude for this little village and the incredible people who make it feel like home.
The Pacific Ocean is not far away from us here in Oaxaca, Mexico. About 125 miles. Yet we have not visited often since arriving four years ago. The reason has been that the old highway to the coast led us around the city and then over the Sierra Madre Mountains on a harrowing two lane road that could make a person sick from the twists and turns. About a seven hour trek.
Everything is different now that the long anticipated and awaited highway 175, a sleek asphalt “autopista” is newly opened.
With a desire for adventure and a celebration on the horizon, my beloved wife Amy and I embarked on our journey to Puerto Escondido, a coastal gem on the Pacific shores. However, this time, the route took an exciting twist as we drove the new highway, cutting our travel time in half. Gone were the days of perilous journeys over the Sierra Madre Mountains, with their treacherously winding paths. Instead, we found ourselves cruising along the smooth asphalt of the new highway, marveling at the picturesque landscapes unfolding before us. The reduced travel time not only ensured a safer passage but also allowed us to immerse ourselves in the beauty of our surroundings without the constant worry of hazardous roads.
After a seamless journey, we arrived at our coastal haven in Mazunte: Casa Ofelia. The small but famous town attracts a diverse crowd that includes hippies, yogis, spiritual seekers, and those interested in animal conservation. It's laid-back atmosphere, eco-friendly practices, and focus on yoga, turtle conservation, and spiritual activities make it a popular destination for alternative travelers. Bohemian vibes abound, which is fine for Amy and I⏤both former hippies. We enjoyed people watching: men with tanned, muscular builds, beards and “man Buns”; that is long hair tied up in a bun atop the head. Women sauntered scantily dressed. Many go topless on the beach.
Greeted by the salty breeze and the rhythmic sounds of the ocean waves just outside our bedroom door, our accommodation in Mazunte provided perfect sanctuary, offering a tranquil escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. We stayed three days then headed back to Puerto Escondido for two nights.
In Puerto Escondido we lodged at Hotel Santa Fe, namesake of our former hometown. It offers a mix of colonial elegance and modern amenities. Furthermore, it is set directly opposite Zicatela beach, providing guests with sweeping beach views and stunning sunsets.
As the sun dipped below the horizon on the final night of our retreat, we gathered to commemorate a special occasion—the 71st birthday of my beloved Amy. With laughter, love, and gratitude in our hearts, we raised a toast to our togetherness and the adventures yet to come.
Our getaway to the coast was more than just a journey—it was a testament to the joy of exploration, the importance of cherished moments, and the power of love. As we bid farewell to the coastal paradise, we carried home to Oaxaca with us memories for our lifetime, forever etched in the sands of time.
For the first time since we moved to Mexico almost three years ago my daughter Sarah is visiting us. Our house has plenty of room and we are happy to be together. Yet we are somewhat removed from cultural activities since the location is in a pueblo outside of Oaxaca. Sarah asked about going to the ocean, so we decided to make the seven hour drive through the Sierra Madre Mountains to the Pacific. Amy and I had visited Mazunte about 2 years ago and liked it. It has an international reputation as a hip and laid back spot along the coast. Young people especially like it as a counter culture place to forget the world and re-center in harmony with nature.
To drive from Oaxaca with our puppy MaliNalli, we followed an infamously winding road through mountains that makes some sick to their stomachs. The dog threw up! Near the coast, earth gave way to sand. Our fabulous hotel, Carpe Diem, took us in with open arms and made us feel at home on a tree laden hillside above the ocean. Sarah participated in yoga sessions on the roof veranda with sparkling and astonishing views.
Mazunte beach is not for swimming because the ocean is too strong with powerful waves hitting the steep shoreline. We drove 7 minutes to nearby San Augustinillo where swimming is perfect. Amy sat contentedly by a table under a big beach umbrella. Sarah and I dove in and played in the surf. MaliNalli streaked around with joy but was afraid of the water. She dug holes in the sand . . . just like any child.
I followed the bird in flight. It came from where the sun had risen along craggy cliffs at Mazunte, Mexico on the Pacific coast. Breakfast had just been served. Amy and I sat on a patio overlooking the sea. The air felt soft in early morning, heating up moment by moment with a playful breeze caressing everything it touched. Thunderous ocean waves crashed below, rushing in and out along the coast while making bellows from the deep.
The blackbird, just a few meters away and close to where we sat, soared gracefully on the currents and took my eyes with it sweeping across the sea vista. The bird settled on the top of a post jutting from sand further from our cabanas. My eyes continued to where waves crashed on rocks, casting white spray in the distance. I could see a couple of dogs playing tag, happy to frolic early in the day—before the heat. A family walked together, scampering to evade the rushing waves, laughing when someone was knocked over by the force of roiling water.
I took a sip of fresh squeezed orange juice in a tall glass carafe, Amy beside me, and simply gave in to the perfection of the moments.
To get to the coast, we drove on a small winding road, called highway 175. At the start, we spotted a village with brightly painted church. It had stunning views and Amy pointed out in the distance a cemetery high up. We went there and walked among the graves. Many of them, even old ones had fresh flowers.
Highway 175 has so many sharp curves that we were warned in advance to bring medicine for motion sickness. We both got dizzy, and after a couple hours, I really wanted to get free of the snake.
We arrived at the ocean—and it is hot. From the road I could see the ocean, and stopped the car by some beach shacks to take a look. Amy and I walked to the beach at Zipolite, and soon engaged in a conversation with a man named Israel, a Mexican who offered to take us out in his boat to see dolphin and turtles. A man walked briskly by, stark naked. Then a few more, followed by a woman with her bare boobs bouncing. I thought, “We must be on a clothing optional beach.” Ten minutes later we were at our hotel to stay two nights and three days.
It is hot and humid. Typically around 90 degrees during the day and near 80º at night. We like our room. It is high up, with a king sized bed, nice bathroom, big sliding doors with screens that go out to a terrace that overlooks the ocean and beach below. Last night, we set a fan by the open porch screen and directed air currents in the direction of our bed, then lay naked and watched a movie. Lights out to go to sleep, even with the fan we sweltered. I managed to fall asleep. Amy flipped directions so her head was closer to the fan. She flopped around uncomfortably, but noticed a wide, squat box over our bed, easily missed because it is white like our walls. “Is that an air conditioner?” she wondered.She did not want to wake me up, but fortunately I woke anyway. “I think we have an air conditioner over the bed.” Indeed.
