Everyday we did this walk, every day.

I had a love/hate relationship with what I now ominously call “the walk,” but the reality is that “the walk” will go down as the one of the things I remember most about Sayulita.

What is the walk? It’s the main walking path (though I use the term ‘main’ loosely) from Sayulita’s town center to the secluded Playa Carricitos, and since our rented bungalow was on the hill right over Carricitos, it was the walking path we took everyday to get to town.

Usually twice.

the jungle walk
The beginning of the walk down…

It started on a wide dirt path through a jungle of sorts, then ran down, down, down, until it reached the cemetery. After that it was an easy stroll along the gravel dirt seawall past the giant yellow Villa Amor, an adventure tour provider shack, and then finally, into the outskirts of town.

walking past the cemetary

It was a nice 20 minute wake me up walk in the morning, and a very sweaty 30 minute work out during the heat wave coming home after lunch; a quite enjoyable evening amble to town for dinner, and, well, something else entirely in the pitch-blackness on the way back.

The first time, we got lost. Even though we were warned to not take the first right but the second right, and shown specifically where, we of course took the first right, and not the second right… But you see, when everything is black and there’s only the light from two meandering headlamps, the first right isn’t a ‘right,’ it’s just the only road you can see.

Well, we hit a dead end after walking up a giant hill and had to traipse back all the way to the cemetery – a really appropriate landmark in the middle of the night.

villa amor in the distance

When we stopped getting lost, it became a great time to sing songs, learn to spot land crabs and spider eyes, and to get terrified of random sounds and giant wasp nests. So, not so bad, really.

Well, except for that last part walking up, the part where we knew we were rounding the last corner because all of a sudden our legs would give out and the incline felt like it increased by about 10 degrees. “Oh, we’re here.” We’d both say, dread in our voices.

But we were always rewarded at that point with the knowledge that we were close to home…and by the glowing eyes of the neighbor’s dog, staring at us from the darkness of the driveway, silently watching us as we passed.

Everyday we did this walk, every day.

can't see anything? yeah, neither could we.
Can’t see anything? Yeah, neither could we.

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