From surf draught to surfed-out in just two weeks. The amazing surf spots of Pascuales, La Ticla and Rio Nexpa put the surfing back into our trip. Yes, Shay got into the water too! And we have not caught the Swine Flue yet!
　
Since Melaque, Ollie's grumpiness over no surf, has transitioned into grumpiness over too much surf; a little too big to handle. As of writing there has been 14 continuous days, with two to three surf sessions per day… and still counting. It's a reminder of what the expression "Surfed-Out" really feels like. Shay finally got to try out her new body board (Mike Stewart, Pipe edition), she found a new pack of dogs to befriend, got physical and back in Zen with her daily beach run ritual and got into some seriously deep hardcore hammocking.
　
Warning: Sorry folks, this blog entry will be all about surfing, hammocking and internal emotional struggles. If you are waiting for the culture and temple safaris, you will have to wait a few weeks more.
　
Sounds of Silence

We awoke on our final day in Melaque to the happy sounds of people packing up and leaving after the Semana Santa (Easter Holiday) break. By midday the small village was almost back to its usual 'tranquilo' self. We ventured out of our little hideaway to witness the throngs of overcrowded buses making their way back to the cities and enjoyed a peaceful stroll around the now empty streets and beach. There was a welcoming silence that evening and we managed to get our first good nights sleep since the national holiday had started a week earlier.

Eager to get on with our journey, we packed up and shipped out early the next day. After a week of doing nothing but eating tacos and drinking far too many cerveza's, we were keen to get back into routine and shake off the lethargic-ness which had overcome us. Our first point of call was Boca de Pascuales, a heavy beach break in the State of Colima which in pictures is often mistaken for Puerto Escondido. As we approached the beach we were greeted with what seemed to be a huge wall of water not far from the shore, it was a 'oh my god' moment. We quickly realised that there was no way in hell that either of us would dip a toe in that water, so we got comfortable at a nearby palapa restaurant and enjoyed the local seafood while watching the ground shaking waves and surfers being towed into them by jet ski.
　
La Ticla Salvation
　
It was time to get back into the water and our salvation was La Ticla.
　
La Ticla is a sleepy little village in the State of Michoacan. After the suffering we had endured during Samana Santa it was a welcome relief to arrive in La Ticla. The super laid-back lifestyle, which consisted of interchanging between the hammock, under the palm leaf roof of our palapa, and the consistent surf was just what the doctor ordered. In La Ticla, camped on the beach front with the break 20 meters away from our camper, life was good.
　
To get to this tranquil surf spot you have to travel the Mex 200 highway, also known as 'Bandido Alley'. It was not uncommon in the not so distant past for travellers to be held up and stripped of their possessions by gun and machete welding bandidos due to its remoteness and lack of traffic, but today it's fairly safe as long as you stick to the rules of always driving in daylight hours. The road itself resembles the windy mountain pass of the Big Sur in central California, steep roller-coaster climbs and descents with 180 degree switchbacks rewarded with awesome views of the rugged coastline.
　
The village lies just off the highway about 3kms down a cobbled road and is one of the easiest places to find (due to the huge Corona sponsored billboard at the turn-off). Being well established on the surfing map, the La Ticla community has realised there is money to be made from the freakishly consistent waves which break left and right at a river mouth and have the place set up with everything a travelling surfer could possibly need. You can rent little palm leaf huts (cabanas) or camp under a palapa (A wooden frame covered in palm leaf branches - US$3.50 per night per person) in your tent or just hang your hammock up and sleep in it. The break picks up any swell and you can pretty much bet on there being waves every day. A typical camp consists of Americans, Canadians, along with a couple of Europeans and Aussies. Many of them set up camp for months at a time.
　
With the many reports of robberies on the beach here, Apolinar, the old owner of the palapa we rented (US$7 a night), was more or less on the watch for unwanted people all the time. The owners sleep in hammocks outside their restaurants (even though they have houses in town) to keep an eye on things. After all, travelling surfers are important for their businesses, they take it very seriously to ensure all customers are safe.

After a couple of days of unwinding in La Ticla we heard a familiar voice at our door. It was Noel, the Brazilian/Swiss guy we had met in Celestino Gasca. He now had a Swiss friend in tow, Julie. It was nice to catch up with his Semana Santa stories over a few cold cerveza's later the evening.
　
Six days of camping and surfing here and the existing south swell died. We saw an opening to continue further south towards the next destination; the famous left point break of Rio Nexpa. (Ed note: We do practice the writer Allan Weisbeckers philosophy of never driving away from good surf. We fear we'll be in Mexico forever..).
　
Driving south, we decided to detour off at a dirt road we read about in a Mexico surf guide and stopped at a half secret surf spot with a little restaurant overlooking a golden beach. A big rock protruded out in the ocean and had a barrelling right glassy wave breaking off it. (Ed note: "Barrelling" is when a wave forms a tube, like a barrel when it breaks, "Glassy" is when the surface of the water on the wave is shiny and almost looks like glass). The name of this place is La Llorrona. We did the place in express, a quick 'Camarones al Mojo' (prawns in garlic) while fighting off the persistent flies and wasps, and a short session on the body board. La Llorrona done... next place up!
　
We love Mexico; a bit further down from Llorrona you will find El Zapote de Tizupa. There's an RV park here and an excellent beach for longboards or fat fish type surfboards. The wave has been compared to San Onofre in California, and guess what, there is no one around. While 150 people plus, scramble for the 50 cm waves of Malibu Point, California, we got head high glassy long rides all for ourselves. We camped here at the RV park, luxurious by Mexican standards, with a pool, water slide, restaurant and water and electricity for the campers (Dear readers, feel pity for us, its hard to be us). If we could have family and friends with us it would be perfect.
　
The Roller-coaster of Rio Nexpa
　
The next stop, Rio Nexpa, dumped us with a new powerful south swell and Ollie with an emotional battle of self realisation.
　
The Barra of Nexpa is a beautiful place, it's primarily owned by the Mendoza family which run and sublet various cabanas, palapas and restaurants down the beach. A river, the Rio Nexpa, runs out at the top of the point, and the area is full of palm trees with coconuts dangerously dangling at the top. There's a very chilled atmosphere here, but a 'not so chilled' wave when it's on. The left point can fire 100 to 300 yard lefts down the beach. It was formerly a secret spot with regular unidentified photos in surfer magazines. Like La Ticla, it's incredibly consistent with waves every day. When the wave is on, like it was the week we were there, it averages 4-6 foot, fun, fast, hollow and barrelling at times. At the end of the wave, La Liquadore (Liquidator) can produce big bone breaking close outs meters from the beach, this can make exit extremely difficult as the waves suck you out every time you think you almost made it in. Shay surfed this one on her body board, but managed to not break any bones as well as to get in after the surf.
　
Big Wednesday. There is tension in the air during this mornings dawn patrol from the beach. The waves were peeling and glassy at around five foot. 'No problem', Ollie thought. He was wrong! The pounding waves and strong currents which can easily drag you rapidly down to 'La Liquadore' made the paddle out to the line-up difficult. It was here where Ollie first realised what 'Big Nexpa' was all about. After the tiring paddle, you are finally in the line-up; your next obstacle is the huge lumps of unbroken water making their way toward you. Now we're talking football field sized (wide) lumps of water! If your timing is out and you position yourself too far inside where the wave has already broken, you are hammered with a ton of water and tossed around underwater like a rag-doll. The feeling, as you grip your board like your life depends of it, would be not too dissimilar to wrestling a crocodile in a white water inferno. OK, your in the line-up and positioned correctly for the incoming wave. You paddle hard, it's now or never. Suddenly you realise just how far it is to the bottom of that wave, an ominous sheer drop, you have two choices and a split second to make your decision. Do you;
　
a. Go for it and hope for the best, or
b. YIKES, ABORT!!! ABORT!!!
　
At the end of a very hard and frustrating session, Ollie had only caught a few close-out waves. Meanwhile, to rub salt into the wounds, the other locals and long time resident gringos were having the waves of the lives (just check the pictures).

With Ollie's self confidence washed away by the 'Big Wednesday' waves of Rio Nexpa, the inner struggle started from the hammock under our palapa. Darn!! Ollie knew what had already started; the process of CSI.
　
The five stages of the Circle of Surfing Inner struggle (CSI), defined by Ollie. This is how it goes:

Stage 1, Appreciation: Appreciation of a good swell with perfect waves, even though it looks a bit out of your current comfort zone.

Stage 2, Realisation: #*%*!! The waves are much more powerful than first expected, and actually very hard to handle. To be honest, conditions are darn right intimidating and a bit scary.

The inner-struggle commences.

What to do? Admit defeat and not surf, or, to go out and kill yourself...maybe?!?! Hmmmmm... What to do??

The decision between not to surf or to surf but kill yourself (or at the very least badly injure) goes on for a while, often a day or more. Yes, I am going out. Errrr maybe not. Yes, I am going now. Hmmmm, maybe I'll wait a little longer. It's a mentally demanding process, also for the ones close to you.

Stage 3, Determination: "Damn!! I will stay here for as long as it takes to master the conditions and catch some good waves!!" The determination to master your fear and put yourself outside of your comfort zone takes over, with the thought of success spurring you on.

It's a physical hard process, a lot of paddling and struggle to catch the waves often with very little payback (by way of quality waves taken). But at least you are out there giving it a qualified try, whatever the outcome is.

By this stage the mental inner struggle is over and the commitment is on.

Stage 4, Exhilaration: A break through! The first good set of waves caught successfully. You experience shivers of adrenaline as you are catching and surfing that first wave and a huge injection of serotonin as you realise you've finally done it. A 'wave' of happiness (and relief).

Stage 5, Appreciation: Appreciation of a good swell with perfect waves. The comfort level raised a few notches. Until the next time.

Phew, another CSI survived (by both Ollie and Shay, who had to endure the ride with him).
　
Southward Bound
　
We were reluctant to leave Rio Nexpa and the beautiful state of Michoacan but in our minds we both know that we will return again in the future. Our next point of call is to 'Longboard Heaven', otherwise known as La Saladita and El Rancho in the State of Guerrero. Seemed rude not to 'drop in' with a longboard strapped to the top of the camper, longing to be ridden, and besides, we had promised our San Miguel friend, Big Tony that we would look up an old friend of his.

On a final mechanical note, our trusty travelling companion and home (aka: 'The Truck') has developed a worrying sound from the engine since leaving Nexpa. Our next dilemma is whether we act quickly and get a Mexican 'mechanico' to give her the once over, or turn the stereo up as to not hear the noise…?