An agreement got made in the Big Blue Ocean between myself and Big Jim. We agreed that I was ready to blindly go where so many white men have tried to go before; Out on my own, to find my own way. Looking back, the shield that he had graciously provided by allowing me to oversee his hotel in the GringoLandia section of Puerto Escondido was a beautifully orchestrated eye opener. I’ve been coming here for many years, each year with a different sort of set up,(treehouses, water towers, plantation estates) and each visit found me under someones wing. Big Jim, being six six, has had the biggest wings of them all. And still does. He’s a Lion in Puerto. I’m his little cub. We are both hobo surfers that is for sure.
But it was time to get off the tit even though I ain’t really truly off it at all. For instance, if God forbid I ever got myself in a real jam, I wouldn’t have the slightest clue as to how to make it go away. That is to say, I still need enabling, just not as much as in years past. So after a couple of trials and errors, I settled on a nice and safe concrete box in a half finished hotel, on the poor side of the highway, half way between Gringolandia, and Very Real Mexico. The owner of the hotel knows just one English word. That word is HolAron. I bought a fan, a blender, a burner, a cooler, some pots & pans, a coffee cup, a couple plates & utensils, a plastic folding table, a bicycle, some WD40, and a few other nicknack paddywacks.