After one day in the marina attempting to recover from seasickness, I tried to leave town. After eight miles, realizing I was still too sick, I pulled into the firehouse, where I spent the next 12 hours mostly asleep while the firemen traded ringtones between their phones.
I pedaled an easy 30 flat miles the next day, arriving in the town of Concordia at the foothills of the mountains. Immediately upon leaving town, I was struck by the greenness of the place–there are forests, singing birds, and even a few lizards on the roadside. Most of the rain falls here in the summer months, and this is the dry season, yet, in comparison to Baja, it was incredible.
I tried to leave Concordia, a town of about 10,000, the next morning, but puked and returned to my cheap hotel room for the rest of the day. The following morning, I thought I was well enough to bike, and I rode 15 miles uphill to the small town of Copala. Unable to continue, I sought out the local pharmacy and decided to stay put until my stomach stopped doing the things you don’t want to post about on the internet.