Last day in Puerto

My bus leaves in an hour and a half, and I´ve tied up all of the loose ends that my mind can muster. I missed the Aussies when they left this morning, and I´ll say goodbye to Eric when I jump into a taxi in front of our beloved Hotel Villa Mexicana. I´m more than ready to hit the road again, but I´m gonna miss a lot about this slow little tourist paradise. I don´t imagine that I´ll ever eat as cheaply and as well as I have for the last month, and I don´t think that getting surfboards repaired will ever be so fast and painless. Fifteen bucks for a cracked rail on an epoxy skin board! Sorry about that one Victor, I think that I´ll just end up buying this board off of you.

I´m really gonna miss the brothers Fernando and Emencio who watch over the hotel. I got so wasted last night that I don´t remember pounding on the gate to wake up Fernando to let me in, and I owe it all that fun loving Mexican´s generosity with his primo mezcal. I´m also going to miss the burrito place with the best juice to hit this digestive tract. On some days I´d order pineapple, banana, and strawberry, on other days I´d get something like apple, pineapple, and lime, all blended with ice and orange juice. I´m going to start a mobile juice bar when I get back stateside and use the cash to fund a coinciding tour of the coast

Managed to get down to Barra de la Cruz, which is an amazing place, and though the surf we got wasn´t perfect the potential of the place smacks you in the face. Took some pretty hairy drops there, one of which taxed me for a couple of my own hairs which I later found in the crack in the board caused by a violent encounter with my shin. I swear I felt the big barnacled rock brush my ass a couple times, and even a couple surly locals hooted for me as I paddled for do or die rides. Some other guys just shook their heads at what they saw as complete recklesness, and after thinking about it for a bit I decided that with the hospital so far away and my life so fresh, maybe the glory is not worth the risk. Of course we left Barra on Saturday the 19th, the day after we arrived, and three days later I heard from a local bigwig that Sunday was really good and devoid of people. Documented travel lesson #1 : let the herd go its own way if you´ve got greener pastures in your sights. Oh well, at least we got to play chess at Cafe Babylon and spend travel funds on beer.

The real jewel down here is the sleepy fishing/mexican vacationer town of (insert name here). Jaime, the expat Puerto veteran who looks over the sweet house that sheltered Brandon, Jeff, Colin and myself, told us about the place and we went there not knowing what we would find. The good lord really took his time on this one; absolutely beautiful, reasonably priced, and the wave is perfect. Went there twice, with the first trip bestowing upon me the best ride of my life on a perfectly shaped ten foot wave that was like a big steep neverending ramp. The second trip gave us a different look at the place, with the swell coming in from a bit more to the west creating perfect aquatic cylinders for those able to wrangle them. I certainly tried. That time was with Colin, John, and Natalie, and we lived like royalty in a concrete cabaña atop our ever attentive host Carlos´ own home.

Oh shit I hope I don´t miss my bus. I´m off to barrel riding school with the travel chess set that I bought at a toy store for 25 pesos. It´s got backgammon and checkers too, so I´m sure I´ll have a pretty easy time making friends.