Here’s another neighborhood walk to check out next time you’re in town, or looking to do a little exploring on foot (bikes or horses also invited, but no cars). I know this stroll because I live on Calle Chiripa, the street formerly known as the Street With No Name, that borders the north side of the primeria, the elementary school fronting on Avenida Palmar.
Chiripa was/is the nickname of the hombre who once owned most of the land up Calle Chiripa. In slangy Spanish, Chiripa means “dumb luck,” more or less, and this Chiripa guy must have had some because he owned and/or owns a large chunk of gorgeous Sayulita terrain. We’re not sure how much of the little valley and surrounding hills he can lay claim to these days, since there are a dozen or so houses up there, of the luxury gringo persuasion. Also, each and every dirt track or off-shooting side road sports a sign and/or some indicator of yet another luxury Sayulita subdivision or hilltop trophy home that failed to get traction before the last bubble burst. Bad for brokers and speculators, maybe, but at least most of the jungle up my road is more or less intact.
But not all of it, and the cleared land is instrumental in the annual destruction derby of Calle Chiripa. This dirt “road” that I live on has been described as a “seasonal stream,” which means that in the rainy season of summer, it basically washes away, and turns into a small brown river. Rio Chiripa. In the big flood a couple of years ago, the seasonal stream was a raging torrent, and after it was over, many of us built newer, higher walls on the street sides of our homes, hoping to fend off the next torrential summer. Much of the dirt that came racing down the road might have stayed put up there, had the forest remained intact.
But let’s take a walk. Head up Chiripa from Palmar, starting at the north corner of the school. You pass a few houses, and the Almendros condominiums (a hillside corral and home to half a dozen horses just a few years back), and then the partially cobbled road turns entirely to dirt, condition depending on time of year. After you pass the last level ground house on the right and the pump house on the left, continue straight on until you see a trail leading up hill to the right. At this point there are perhaps half a dozen houses hidden in the hillside ahead, all buried in the palmy jungle, pretty much out of sight. It feels a little wild, and if you were to continue straight ahead up the hill past these houses, you’d be bushwhacking within minutes.
Instead, head up the trail to your right. At the top of the hill you hit cobblestones again, on the street called Calle Cielo, here lined up with multiple little signs with lot numbers on them, the detritus from yet another failed subdivision scheme–this one called Vista Sayulita. Who knows, it may get build before the next bubble blows up. At least they didn’t shred the shrubs and pour concrete before they walked away the first time, as has happened in more than one of these developer-fueled pipe dreams brought halfway to Sayulita reality.
Now you’re up on the ridge, and you can see the ocean one way, the valley and mountains another, and as you stroll along, views of the town below soon emerge. There are a few houses up here, mostly in the luxe mode, and so the road is well-maintained. Follow this road one way, and you come to the gates of one particularly pretty Balinese-inspired house, Villa Magia; in the other direction, you’ll experience shifting perspectives and magnificent views in all directions. This is another way to see the town; and as you descend, the big cross appears on your left, halfway down the hill. At bottom, there you are on Revolucion, just east of the bus stop. To make this a complete loop, turn right on Calle Coral or Calle Miramar, head down to Palmar, and turn right. You’re back at school, where you can admire the colorful, kid-painted walls and buildings.
Don’t drive it. There is no way any kind of a car can make the climb from Chiripa up to Calle Cielo, the cobbled road that runs atop the ridge. A horse could do it, and a mountain bike could probably do it, with a strong rider on board. But it’s a lovely stroll, and strolling, you have plenty of time to take in the views.
