Our journey to the coffee-growing village of Pluma, Oaxaca should have been short and simple. Yet, the best laid plans of mice and men who want to get laid oft go astray. (And you thought Steinbeck corrupted Shakespeare to illustrate the plight of the common man.)
We took a taxi to the bustling crossroads of Santa Maria Huatulco. Our driver urged us to jump into a collectivo (shared taxi) just leaving. Halfway thru our winding ascent into the mountains, we realized our backpacks were still in the trunk of the previous taxi.
