This letter from my friend, photographer and long-time surfer Leo Hetzl. Leo and partners have had a house in the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica, which is a short walk through the jungle to a prime surfing beach.
Hola Lloyd,
I have been down here for a couple of weeks, will be here until the 22nd. There have been good waves and today it is too big for me.
A few days ago I met Scotty and Marissa. They have been traveling around Latin America for about 8 years in a camper that Scotty built around a 1988 Toyota truck when he was home in Oregon. They started out in Oregon and have been everywhere, including Patagonia. Marissa has been with Scotty off and on for 6 years. She sometime goes home to work while Scotty continues traveling around and surfing. They are on their way back to the states, don’t seem to be in a hurry, what happens, happens, they don’t really have a long range plan, or even a short range plan. We really clicked as soon as we met; one problem is they don’t drink Turkish coffee so I have to give them lemonade and Galletas María.
I showed your book on traveling campers and they said some of the people in the book are friends of yours. They have been fans of you and Shelter Publications for years. It is really a small world, so many connections.…
Above and at left: Scotty and Marissa
The story of Leo and his wife Marija going 20,000 miles in the Sahara desert in 1972 in their Citroen 2CV van is in our latest book, Rolling Homes.
See Leo’s Instagram: @fotohetzel
A few words about my extraordinary friend (of 36 years), Chilón, who has been my guide, fellow explorer, delightful companion. Among other things, he’s provided me with a window into the world as Mexicans see it.
We’ve been to cave painting sites, remote ranchos, multiple taco stands attended solely by Mexicans. His two boys are like my nephews, about the same age as my two sons.
He’s full of good humor, and generates delight wherever we go. We went to Costa Rica together, and when we took cabs in the capital, San Jose, he’d sit in front, start telling jokes and the cabbies would be laughing so hard they could hardly drive.
He had a radio program for 15 years, where his name was Periquín, or “parrot,” that was immensely popular with local kids. He’d say, (in Spanish), Now, Luis and Maria, you mind your parents, and do your homework, and now here is the latest song from The Rolling Stones.”
The last photo is of a woman who recognized him as Periquín on the beach at Los Cerritos last week.
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This trip has been cosmic. First, it’s been healing. Out of the heavy rains and winds into the bright blue sunshine of this most southern part of California was just what I needed. Plus meeting a ton of great people, Mexicans and gringos.
It’s been like coming home. I spent 12 years coming down here 2–3 times a year, so I know my way around. In spite of the enormous growth, I still love it. Like San Francisco, years ago I decided to stop bitching about the glass half full, and enjoy the still wonderful parts of the city.
Another extraordinary thing: people recognize me. Has happened half a dozen times down here. Happened on the street in Berlin, city of 2 million people, a guy walking by says “Lloyd!”
I think it has a lot to do with sticking around long enough…
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Some buildings just have it.
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Practical Baja shelter, palapa roof over trailer.
What you really need in the desert is shade; most of your living can be outside, you just need protection from the sun.
This is on land of Kathleen Martin and Gary Brown on the Cabo de Este, near Shipwrecks.
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Chilón says probably crashed drug dealer plane.
Many Mexicans believe that the DEA has supplied guns to the cartels.
Check out “Operation Fast and Furious” on Wikipedia or Google, a failed DEA attempt to track which resulted in drug dealers getting guns.
To many Mexicans the DEA is the biggest cartel in Mexico.
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Pangas are fiberglass boats common throughout Mexico and much of the developing world, with upswept bow, good for beach landing.
Three guys were fishing, two jumped out, and this guy went back out, waited for the right swell, then gunned it.
They then pulled in farther with a Datsun truck.
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The Mexicans love my running shoes made into sandals.
Funny, no one ever notices in USA.
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Angel Robles has his exquisitely beaded Huichol art at his table in the San Jose del Cabo plaza on weekends.
I wonder if the bracelet I bought could qualify me in a cross-cultural way as a Swifty. Which is OK with me.
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Somewhere in Baja this morning (post written on February 6).
This is not me; in fact my first time out in three years was hardly successful last night; one prone ride and feeling pretty tired from being out of shape.
Had great swim with goggles this morning, water 73 degrees.
Meeting totally great people, Mexicans and gringos, all tuned into the natural world, especially the sea.
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