Not Moving in Troncones, Mexico

“Way down here
You need a reason to move
Feelin’ fool
Running your stateside game
Lose your load
Leave your mind behind

Ohhhh Mexico
Sounds so simple I just gotta go
The sun’s so hot I forgot to go home

Guess I’ll go now.”

I came down to this remote coastal town in Mexico’s southern pacific to surf and do yoga. But with fractured feet that refuse to fuse back to their strong selves I have instead resorted to perfecting the ‘Mexican plop’…a very complicated move that involves a bikini, 70 SPF sunscreen, and complete appreciation for the non-moving. I quite like this new sport….and honestly if I spend the entire vacation laying by the ocean and don’t put on real clothes the entire time it will be quite fine by me.

Last night I listened to a Cuban band play on the beach while practicing the ‘sitting, hand-clapping plop’, a rather advanced technique in the plop spectrum. I marveled at the sleepy happy town of Troncones and the eclectic mix of people who had sought it out. Musicians aplenty, Qui artists, surfers, yoga masters, and those looking to do nothing beyond stare at the ocean.

It’s a sleepy town and my main acquaintance to date has been a water loving black dog who insists on staying by my side. I call him Perrito blackie. (original, I know).


But since my Perrito doesn’t talk back much outside of an occasional soft ‘woof’ I decided to make more human sorts of friends. Against the background of Latin drums and soft breezes I drank tequila and conversed with three Harley driving renegades. One insisted on showing me his photo album of the region, which consisted almost entirely of his smiling head next to various sunset backdrops. Another spoke of life’s purpose, and a deep fear of commitment for anything other than an open road. The third had committed….to Mexico. He had been living in Zihua (a nearby town whose full name ‘Zihuatanejo’ produces pronunciation trouble even for the locals) since 2003.

“Life is just simpler here,” he said. This resort is called Present Moment and if you think about it, there is really no where else you should be.”

My newly acquired friend was from Detroit but spoke a flowery Spanish like an Argentine. Although Troncones was tranquil and full of bliss, he said a more vibrant ‘real’ Mexico existed in Zihua and invited me into town whenever I feel up to it. Inspired to see a ‘real’ Mexico, I decided to act like a ‘real’ Mexican plan on navigating the system of chicken buses tomorrow to head into town and see what it has to offer. Since it’s also a coastal town I hope I won’t have to change out of my bikini. One must have goals.