Nothing, part II
Here's what you need to know about our day: We got up at what was probably about 9:30, though neither of us bothered to find a watch. Then we walked up to our posada's little restaurant for breakfast, as we've done the last two days. We ate some fruit and pancakes, then sipped coffee until about 11, maybe. At that point, the caretaker, Jeff, suggested we move to Corona. Which we did. For several hours.
All this time, the dark blue Pacific stretched out down a cliff below us, gentle swells crashing against tiny islands of rock. Those are the essentials.
In any case, I'm now in Pochutla, a bit inland and decidedly not touristy or scenic, but also the spot to buy onward bus tickets (Laura is still chillin on the beach). We now have plans for Friday night: an all night bus ride to San Cristobal de las Casas, in the state of Chiapas. ¡Que Divertido!
Last night it rained again, hard, with lots of lightning. We sat out on our terraza and watched it for a while, until the spray started to get too cold. Then, at some point in the middle of the night, I went to investigate a horrible sound just outside our door. It was probably a frog, but I did go with the pocketknife part of my leatherman drawn. Everyone should feel free to mock me for that.
I had exhibited similar courage a few hours earlier. I'd left our bottle of water on the stairs outside, and I saw a mass of hard little legs crawling around it when I went to retreive it. A scorpion! So I grabbed a guidebook and bashed the thing to death with the spine of Rough Guide to Central America. And then I saw it was a crab. A long, long way from the beach, but a crab nonetheless.
In response to Andrea's question, Laura has read Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried and is starting on Barbara Kingsolver's The Poisonwood Bible - both summer reading for her students (mock her, please, for working on honeymoon). In an odd honeymoon choice, I am finishing Graham Greene's The End of the Affair, which I'm reading kind of because someone recommended it, but also because it was a paperback and not very big. I'm onto Tim O'Brien next.
Hasta la proxima....
All this time, the dark blue Pacific stretched out down a cliff below us, gentle swells crashing against tiny islands of rock. Those are the essentials.
In any case, I'm now in Pochutla, a bit inland and decidedly not touristy or scenic, but also the spot to buy onward bus tickets (Laura is still chillin on the beach). We now have plans for Friday night: an all night bus ride to San Cristobal de las Casas, in the state of Chiapas. ¡Que Divertido!
Last night it rained again, hard, with lots of lightning. We sat out on our terraza and watched it for a while, until the spray started to get too cold. Then, at some point in the middle of the night, I went to investigate a horrible sound just outside our door. It was probably a frog, but I did go with the pocketknife part of my leatherman drawn. Everyone should feel free to mock me for that.
I had exhibited similar courage a few hours earlier. I'd left our bottle of water on the stairs outside, and I saw a mass of hard little legs crawling around it when I went to retreive it. A scorpion! So I grabbed a guidebook and bashed the thing to death with the spine of Rough Guide to Central America. And then I saw it was a crab. A long, long way from the beach, but a crab nonetheless.
In response to Andrea's question, Laura has read Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried and is starting on Barbara Kingsolver's The Poisonwood Bible - both summer reading for her students (mock her, please, for working on honeymoon). In an odd honeymoon choice, I am finishing Graham Greene's The End of the Affair, which I'm reading kind of because someone recommended it, but also because it was a paperback and not very big. I'm onto Tim O'Brien next.
Hasta la proxima....

1 Comments:
Ouch, I raise pet crabs and I wish the killing didn't happen... they are wonderful creatures.
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