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Robin  Daugherty - photographer and writer, is in search of a country to call home. As part of that search, she is traveling to various countries and talking to the expatriates who live in them. Join her as she shares their stories in each issue of Escape From America Magazine.. .

It's two days before Christmas, but in this thatched-roof restaurant on the southern tip of the Yucatan there are no Christmas trees, no blinking lights, no carolers. Just the sound of the low tide, the salty scent of the Caribbean coming in on a tropical breeze, and Jimmy Buffet crooning, “I never really been there, but I sure wanna go, down to Mexico....”  When I first began dreaming about life as an expatriate, Mexico was the country that came to mind--the Mexico, that is, that used to be, complete with a C & H sugar beach on the Caribbean and a cabana near a colorful Mayan village, where there's nothing to do but hang from a hammock, drift in turquoise water, and marinate in Tequila.

I’d heard about a rustic resort in Xcalak, Mexico called Costa de Cocos. Run by Americans, Dave and Marie Randall, it was said to be the last hideaway on the end of the peninsula--as far south as you could go without getting your feet wet. I talked my Spanish-fluent friend Eddie into joining me and ran for the border, thrilled to be escaping the chaos of Christmas, even if for just one week.
 

In Cancun we headed south on Highway 307 in a rented Mexican-made VW, and resolved to keep going until we saw the waves breaking over the barrier reef and an iguana skittering over the road--just a few miles north of Belize.  Five hours after leaving Cancun, we arrived in Xcalak, just in time for dinner at the Costa de Cocos dining room, which in Xcalak, is the singular reply to “Where do you want to eat tonight?”  We chatted with resort owners, Dave and Marie while dining on a carrot, dates, and raisins salad, chyaote, and fresh conch. The couple first came to Xcalak eleven years ago on vacation and decided to stay.Dave, a Jimmy Buffet alter ego if ever I saw one, described how he and Marie built the resort one cabana at a time. Due to a lack of infrastructure in Xcalak, Costa de Cocos was one of the first eco-conscious hideaways in Mexico. The resort’s electricity is windmill-generated and an on-site desalinization plant recaptures seawater and serves up solar heated water via a reverse osmosis purification process.

The good life in Xcalak .

Hurricane Mitch had swept through three months before my arrival. “We lost six feet of beach,” Dave said, “and as you can see, the pier was swept away.” Marie pointed out that hurricanes and the resultant cleanups are part of life on the Caribbean coast. 

These days It’s mostly divers and sport fishermen who go to the trouble to get to Xcalak -- and the hardiest of American expatriates. The fishermen are lured by yellow tail, tarpon, tuna, and the silvery bonefish--prolific just about anywhere you throw a hook. Divers go for the underwater paradise that is part of the world’s second largest coral reef. And the expatriates? They’re lured by the call of the wild---with it’s cheap land, lack of people, and of course, the turquoise Caribbean sea lapping at their doors. 

Eddie and I drove into town one day in search of some local color, but what we found was a hurricane ravaged ghost town set on the edge of paradise. It was as if Hurricane Mitch had blown through and taken everything with it, including ambiance. In the town of 200 residents, down from 1500 in 1958, many of the cinderblock houses were boarded up and there were just two tiny tiendas, one selling T-shirts and the other chiclets and Sol beer. The town zocalo, located just across the street from a Mexican military installation, sat empty. 

It was clear that the main action in Xcalak involved Mother Nature.
 

Xcalak fishing guides .

So the next day we donned snorkeling fins and masks and headed off to explore the world’s second longest reef delineated by a long white line of water breaking over its surface a half a mile offshore. Once there, our faces remained glued for hours to the liquid screen through which we viewed Dr. Seuss characters gliding through a swirl of coral in the blue-light terrain  below. If Xcalak had proved a bit disappointing on its surface, its underwater landscape more than made up for it. The next day, we rounded up eight Costa de Cocos guests and headed into town where Eddie had arranged with the normally empty Conchita’s Restaurant for a meal of fresh fish. We sat around a long rectangular table swigging shots of tequila and Sols with lime wedges while we waited--and waited. Bored, I stepped out the back door onto the brilliant white sand. A small boy was kicking a half deflated soccer ball and falling into the powdery sand laughing. Sailcloth clouds skidded across the sky. Sherbet colored boats bobbed like bathtub toys where they were tied to coconut trees. Jose, the restaurant owner appeared and with two fingers in his mouth, and whistled in the direction of a man and woman who were climbing out of a small boat. They lifted between them what appeared to be a large insulated bag.

Parvo?” Jose shouted. “Si.” the young man shouted back. Llevarlo!” said Jose. 

Dinner had arrived, fresh as ordered. We were as excited as kids waiting to rip into Christmas presents, as the aroma of char-broiled fish filled the restaurant. The wonderful smells were followed by a platter after platter of conch ceviche, parvo, octopus, snapper, rice, tortillas..... until, by the time the shoe-sized lobsters appeared, we were force feeding ourselves. Jose promised to give our left-overs to the locals. 

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