On the first day of the third month of my trip, I wake up to the sounds of a girl having sex in the communal bathroom across the hall at three in the morning. I was in a bit of a haze from the vicodin I had taken to deal with the throb of my smashed toes that had me in and out of sleep and I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or not, but Isabelle was brought out of sleep by it, too, and there was the condom on top of the trash bin when I went in to go. The culprits could have been any two of the fifty or so who were at bonfires on the beach outside our door, this place being kind of the center of the Montezuma universe when the intersection is not, and lots of townie burnouts lie in the hammocks all day, the local Rasputin prone to singing and lecturing to no one in particular with his small bottle of guara in his pocket, the owner’s daughter yelling at him to shut up, white faced monkeys and red squirrels stopping by. Iz wanted a bigger room and we moved into one with a front porch and ocean views for the same price after what might be the best breakfast of the trip at Soda Monte Sol. The bacon was certainly a surprise but the coffee was crap and the server was an oaf who only seemed to want to wait on the girls. This is more of what I was hoping for, this is more like South America, the traveling with the three and looking for rooms together, and the very hostel like vibe in my front yard.
I walked for an hour towards, or past, Playa Grande, depending upon who you ask, the guide books saying that it is 7K away, everyone else insisting that it is the first big beach you get to after all of the smaller ones and it was depressing in a way with the staggering amount of plastic washed up to shore amid the piles of driftwood getting worse and worse the further I went. You can drink the water here which makes it all the more horrific, but it was more than just water bottles. Buckets, colanders, laundry detergent, gas cans, soda and shampoo bottles. If it can be made of plastic, it was washed up, and then I tanned for a bit noting that my toes now only hurt when I hit something with them, and had a banana and can of ice cold mango juice for my first lunch and fish tacos at Vaca Loco for late lunch which were around 7 bucks without anything to drink and not terribly filling but really good and Iz got back from her horseback ride and is now sick, from what she is not sure.
I think this is the first sunset of the trip that I opted to not enjoy with a beer. I’m not going to buy wine, either, especially since they lock the kitchen at 8 meaning you have to drink it all and do so before it gets warm. So, I went out rum shopping and am trying to resist the temptation of drinking too much of it before the grapefruit juice gets warm.
Robin and Juan’s shipment of pork did not come in on the bus as it was supposed to so they had the night off and she pointed me towards Moctezuma, which is how this place is named on google’s map, and nobody can tell me why. In their normal spot was an old woman grilling hamburgers and perros calientes. Robin said that the spaghetti with clams was great for the price, but I opted for the grilled squid instead which came with mashed potatoes, rice and a side of steamed vegetables and it was all very good. I return to find that Isabelle has vomited and that there is a massive bonfire going on with singing and guitars.