success on the beach, part 2 (for real this time)

got the heck out of puerto escondido. with guns popping at our back, we took cashmoney from the bank machine and hitched aboard the 2nd class bus to Pochutla, the not very exciting but quite necessary layover point for all destinations along the coast. We found a camionetta to take us to Zipolite. No, a camionetta is not a horse drawn carriage, though that would be radiculous, but is a light truck with a canvas canopy. We rode pretty much exclusively, stopping here and there to pick up old ladies and bundles of fire wood. All for a buck.
 
We disembarked at Zipolite and walked the 1.5 km stretch of sand to the pink flamingo of a hotel, Lola's, at the eastern end of the beach. We scored a 3 bed room for $30-night and take two steps to the surf whenever we want. Apparently we were spotted and identified by a Quebeckian named David as potential dudes looking for hedonistic pursuits. He would not be far off the mark, but that is a later story I will tell when I'm grayhaired and tunneling my way to the tundra water source.
 
meanwhile, back at lola's, had us some soup and then Adan & I took a sunsetted dip in the ocean, bodysurfing beneath the boogeyboarding kids. those bastards! then, dripping water and reclining on the wooden slatted chairs, Lola's played ending credits music from some 1980s dirty cop meets his big surprise style flick. Think Rocky meets Shaft meets Queen. And this played with gusto as the sun set and the spare clouds in the sky turned fire crisp.
 
We've been eating dinners at a pizzeria\taqueria. we eat 50 cent tacos while we wait for our wood oven baked pizza. Cant seem to escape the Italian influences on this coast, at any cost. El Delfin is the name of the place, and their open air tables are set up in the street. I just love a place that doesn't seem to follow any rules or laws. The gun=toting tourist police are nonexistent, and dear lord i can just imagine the economic costs that would impact Zipolite, with its nudists doing the grapevine down the beach at 10pm, with its drug addled populace, with its inviting strip of beach, with its shambhala eco freaks performing rituals of nightly terror & horror. this is not disneyland, after all.
 
but mostly the air here is chill. this place is hella CHILL. and we're in a semi coma state of pure relaxation most of the time. this morning i got out of bed at the ungodly hour of 8 am and took a walk into town to use the internet cafe. (i had to wait 10 minute for it to open). andrew and adan are still sleeping, or maybe they've awoken and are wondering where the heck i've gone. either way, i should probably sign off here. there's more havoc to wreak and more 2 for 1 pina coladas to consume beachside. i turn a very hefty 25 tonight at midnight...who knows what fear and salty tastes will be in my mouth tomorrow, as a newly minted Quarter Century Boy.