From the Troll House to the Penthouse

After lots of messing about in Puerto Escondido, Angie found us a room. We'd hoped for something with a kitchen and a balcony, somewhere where we could settle for a week or so and cook and relax and enjoy a bus-free existence. Sadly, the hypothetical hotel room we had envisioned seemed not to exist in our price range. A terse German hotelier gave us this room instead:

Note the staircase-shaped ceiling and curtained-off toilet

The room was a dark architectural afterthought. They had built the hotel and noticed the space underneath he stairs might just be able to accommodate visitors at the low end of the price spectrum. I was reminded of my troll status every time I went to the toilet; in an Alice in Wonderland-style perspective trick, the ceiling tapered off in the shape of an upside-down staircase the closer I got the bowl, leaving me unable to stand by the time I was within range.

It wasn't all bad, though. The room was literally the closest room to Zicaleta Beach, and the delights of Mexican Pipeline.


But, on our second day, Angie discovered another hotel, run by a wonderful group of people. What made them so wonderful was the fact that they sometimes give away their rooms at reduced rates if you stay for long enough, look destitute enough or in some way manage to tickle their sympathy bone. So for the next four days, we were housed in this:

Note the kitchen, equipped with a coffee maker and oven! Also note the lack of any staircase-shaped ceilings (we were on the top floor)

Our private balcony

It was all a little overwhelming. We were sure they'd made some sort of mistake. They'd obviously given us a per-person price, which we had taken as a per-room price, but, unbelievably, there had been no error. These were the kinds of digs we hadn't even dared to dream about. It was the best room in the hotel, and for four wonderful days, this was the view:

Of course it came to an end, and when the people who'd booked the room after us showed up, we were thrust straight back in to the murky depths of true, budget accomodation.