So, this is our fifth visit to Sayulita, and I’ve managed to blog about it pretty much every trip. If not, I’ve taken the liberty to borrow from past treks; call it creative license. Anyway, since I’ve written so much about Sayulita already, I can’t very well stop now, can I?
Given the latter statement, you might be thinking, what on earth can she say about Sayulita that she hasn’t covered before? I feel you, but I’ve got a new angle: this time, it’s about a vibrancy of colour – something that Sayulita has in abundance.
This is the deal: every time I go to Mexico, I am amazed with the range of colours – such a change from the winter greys, browns and greens where I hail from. There’s so much variety, so much liveliness, if you will, that my eyes almost ache with the assault of it. Sayulita is no different. Yes, it has the typical greens and blues, but add to that add the shock of tan/white sand, contrasted by bright pink, purple and orange flowers, frangipani, and terra cotta stone, set off by absurdly-bright colours of nearby casas.
Take our beloved Casa Mariluna, for instance. Of course the azure sky is there to help.
Then there’s the palm-tree pink at sunset.
We were up really early one morning – the moon actually woke us up because it was so bright. Here’s a shot from the top floor bathroom turret (pictured above). Yes, that’s the moon… not the sun.
The blue morning ocean, in soothing shadows.
And then there’s the we-bought-tag-end-paint-on-sale hotel in Sayulita’s town square.
And of course, the Golden Hour – twilight, my favourite time. Check out the Rasta pouring out his beer.
One morning we decided to go on a hilltop hike to check out an incredible view of Sayulita proper. This here is the colour of sweat (and yes, I’m still learning the art of the selfie). Ok, it was probably 31 degrees celsius at 9:30 am – best I could do under the circumstances.
Shot of Sayulita’s south end from our high vantage point.
After admiring the view, we carefully zigged and zagged down through the high neighbourhood streets, full of casas of all colours, shapes and sizes. The classic white framed by pink rhodo-type bush seems to be a popular choice down south.
And, naturally, yellow – evoking that sunlight-and-goodness feeling pursued with a sort of madness by us Northerners.
I’ve been asked where I get my creative inspiration from. That’s a hard one. While there’s lots of colourful man-made architecture – which Mexico embraces to no end – there’s nothing that moves me more than seeing the true colours of nature. Maybe because it’s not forced; it’s just there in all its majesty.
And its beauty is unrivaled.