Woke up, got out of bed, dragged the wax comb across my board. Made my way outside and put on sunscreen. Somebody spoke and I attached the keys to the nylon chord that comes inside the pocket of standard board shorts. I put twenty Pesos and my ear plugs in that pocket. I closed the wooden door, unlocked and locked the iron gate, and I was officially gone surfing.
The action was high. Roosters still going berserk. School kids walking to school. Old, well dressed Indian Ladies coming out of thin air. Loose dogs and puppies everywhere you look. I was dressed up as the 3/4 naked, fluorescent Gringo, half whispering subtleties like Whizah, VeunoDia, A Dioooss, Hola Hola, and the unlike. It’s a puzzle that nobody can quite put together. Not even me. The 20-Something Chicas peering out of their concrete holes giggling. Love and laughter was everywhere.
It was now Monday morning, Valentines Day 2011. It was 7:30am. Exercise enthusiasts and bait fisherman up and down the entire beach. I made the mile walk down the beach in about 10 minutes. I rested and stretched by Yoga Antonio to admire his insane postures. While I was out in the water, it appeared as though the half dozen Federalis marching the beach had stopped by YA to do the same.
The waves were small, yet big and powerful enough to where I had to ditch my board a few different times. The wave action at Zicatela happens quickly and in shallow water. My duck dive to wave ratio was about 10 to 1 this particular morning. I made about six waves. The water was very warm. The chilly offshores were in full affect like always.
Got out around 9:30 and ran myself home. The hot sun was out like clockwork. I stopped and bought a couple of fresh goodies from the Swiss Bakery with my 20p. A Chocolate Volcano and a Vanilla Croissant. Hot out of the oven. Thought of my friend Goony G from La Jolla and his abilities to wolf down bear claws apre’ surf. So I wolfed those down during the remaining 300 yards of my walk back to my estate.
Hosed off, spent some QT with Pita and Lucy, and then headed high up to the rooftop palapa. I needed to confirm plans for a mini road trip south to Santa Elena. Confirming anything is NOT something one typically does in these hot tropics. Plans and arrangements mean very little here. I had no choice though. If I played my cards right, I stood a solid chance of absorbing a 100 year old Upright Piano before I was to head back to The States. Went to work.
At 1pm I ran barefoot to my local Jamba Juice. No shoes, No shirt, No worries. My papaya, pineapple jugo and my jamon y queso Torta was delicious. It was also only$2.50 US. I ran home in and out of the shade. I bought a coco de agua popsicle steps from my door. Twenty cents for that cool me down. I took a nap.
Snapped up and caught a Collectivo to Dan’s Deluxe Cafe. Hugh offered me up a cup of coffee as I waited for Dan. It was my only cup of the day. I ate a fresh Veggie Burrito too. It was 6pm and the sun was setting. Dan came home and confirmed the trip to Santa Elena. We were to leave at 6:30am Tuesday morning.
The purpose of the trip is to play tennis on Rick’s custom tennis court and scope out his antique piano that he has schlepped down from BC. Dan has gestured that there may be a nice spot in his popular cafe where I’m thinking A Star Might Be Born.
Hopped back on a Collectivo and headed back to my Estate. Took a quick outdoor shower, ate a ripe banana, began some computer chess, and started hydrating. Big day tomorrow in so many ways..