Longwalkhome Way Back Machine
A post from 5 years ago.
Can’t recall the exact circumstances, but clearly I was having fun.
I did another series of bus jumps to get to Maruata. A hard to reach beach that is considered The “Mexican Beach”. Or so it said in book. On the way I met some crazy ass Gringo Expat Retiree Artist. These guys rock…basically this is their greeting “Hello, my names (Insert wierd name, in this case Teo) I am an artist, I retired unexpectedly. I have travelled and now live in San Miguel (this is almost always the same)…my theory is that (Religous or Political Character) is Evil…in ways you wouldn´t understand. I have read a lot of books (read as smoked my head off), and studied with a Peyote Shaman”. I usual say “No Hablo English…go way coke head”.
I get to this place, hitch a short but much appreciate ride in to “town” and get a cabana to stay in. The beach here is top notch. The water is cold, like home and has big surf. The beach is split in two by a large rock….like a hill. The sea has carved caves in that burst water out when you least expect (witness a pocket full of very It pesos). I play around on beach I have to ourselves, aside from a goat that walked by. Stupid goat. Teo has been staying here and I didn´t even see him. How sad. I take siesta on the beach, boy am I glad I bought my gigantic disney themed toIl. After rousing I Int back to the cabana. Now a cabana conjures romantic ideas of a breazy quiet place, this is not true. This was more of shack, but hey…either that or camp. I scarffed some more shrimp and Int to the beach….50 feet away to look at the stars. There was no light pollution so it was really clear. The hippie ass mexicans that are camping made bonfires…and other smoke too. There was one huge short falling to the cabana. IT HAD NO FRIGGING MOSQUITO NETTING! The next morning I get out of bed, noticed I did not say “woke up”…yeah damn cheeched mexicans and their drums. I pack and go wait on the highway for a couple of hours till the “hourly bus” shows up. Another series of bus changes and I find our selves last night here, in Zihuat.
After a lot of showering and combing of facial hair I am now sand free. It is around 11 in the morning…I just had a huge glass of cool fresh squeezed OJ and am sitting in place 20 feet from the water. The fishermen are cleaning their catches and selling em right there. Breezy and warm. The kid here is starring at my calf…which I am sure is not that interesting, but he seems to get a kick outta it. My mind is wandering. Like how come fishermen here are all about cleaning their catch, but not themselves…phew. I can smell this dude from 10 yards.
Ok, nuff time inside. This town rocks and I got´s to do some Laundry sooner or later, otherwise my last Fisherman comment is wicked hypocritical