Barra de Nexpa or Rio Nexpa was another small surfing town farther down the south coast. Unlike La Ticla, there was much more development and many more American expats. That meant better western food, but more people. The expat influence felt heavy, even though there were some locals around.

The bus careened through the windy hills, and Tom and I were often the only passengers on board. The MX200 road hugs the coast practically the whole way, and offered spectacular views of the rocky, wild Pacific beaches.

The Mary Jane restaurant built it’s menu around the art and culture of getting high. Breakfast was “Wake and bake”. Lunch was “Munchies”. The owner walked over with a huge spliff in his hand.

The surf wasn’t very good and there were plenty of stand-up paddleboarders and longboarders out snaking waves. We could definitely see the potential of the spot, but without swell it became a bit of a shit show. Still, Tom and I got our share of waves and had some fun rides. Mostly lefts but a couple of rights popped up now and again.

Plenty of road signs were stenciled with the marijuana leaf. Definitely a cartel zone.

Accidental selfie that wasn’t meant to be so zoomed in.

The beach cabañas, plenty of them were built far too close to the water and had been washed away by the high tide.

Millions of little rocks roared as they ground against each other in the steep backwash.