A Story

Today's photo is very ordinary, but serves to illustrate the story of our trip back from Acapulco. A quick refresher on last year's epic journey home: near dark start, huge rainstorm, creative window defogging, and late arrival home (more detail here).

This year the tournament ran even longer, we didn't get on the road until after the sun had set. That was actually good, because the air conditioning in the bus had given up the ghost and we were down to window cooling yet again (and with fewer windows). After a lengthy stop to gas up, bus, and fuel up, players (who had somehow increased from 20 to 24 - in a 20 seat bus) we got on the highway at 21:30. Barring any further delays, we expected to roll into Zihuatanejo around 2:00 in the morning.

About 20 minutes outside of Acapulco, the bus dies. Our driver steers to the side of the road and attempts repairs. After 30 minutes or so of futile efforts, with cars, trucks and buses barely slowing to pass the disabled vehicle which still partially blocks the only road between Zihua and Acapulco, it is decided to push the bus to a group of lights barely visible back down the highway.

A half mile later, we pushers are a sweaty mess, but the bus is safely off the road in the parking lot of a small restaurant. Much discussion with the owner of the now closed restaurant ensues and numerous cell phone calls result in a couple of combi type vans showing up. Negotiations take place for the four plus hour trip to Zihua, but a price cannot be agreed upon and they drive off. It is now nearing 23:00 and we are 17 women, 4 children and 3 men standing on the side of the road with all their assorted luggage.

The plan now is to hail a bus heading back to Acapulco, get to the bus terminal and take the first available bus to Zihua. Miraculously, a bus came along in less than 10 minutes, more miraculously it stopped, even more miraculously there were seats available for each of us. It cost each of us eight pesos for the half hour ride to the bus terminal. The next bus left for home at 3:00, but I was told by my English speaking player to buy tickets for the 6:00 AM directo as the 3:00 AM bus stops at many towns along the way and therefore was not as safe as the direct bus. Needless to say, I bought tickets for the directo.

We spent the night with half of the team on the tile floors of the bus terminal. The other half headed by taxi to a different bus line in an attempt to get back to town earlier for work or school. The players taking care of us bought us breakfast at some stand outside the terminal right before we boarded a truly air conditioned, fully functioning bus with movies and reclining seats. A quick four hours later (it is amazing how fast a trip goes when you can sleep through most of it), we pulled into the Estrella de Oro terminal in town and caught a taxi home.

What an adventure! I think we were incredibly fortunate that we broke down within reach of Acapulco, I hate to think what would have happened had we been up the road another hour. I feel badly for the players who had scraped together the money to attend this tournament and then were forced to buy tickets home (the $18USD means very little to us, but to some it is a significant extra expense). I am very grateful to the players who showed us so much kindness, during this adventure and throughout the entire weekend. This is an experience we will talk about for many years to come and certainly tops last year's trip.