Vamos A La Playa

If you haven't heard the song "Vamos A La Playa", it's worth a listen. Not the catchy 1999 pop song by Miranda, but the 1983 catchy pop song by Righeira. It's actually worth it for the dance moves alone. And the wrist antennae the adorable guy on the right is wearing. And the fact that the lyrics in English loosely translate to "We go to the beach. The bomb exploded. Radioactive wind ruffles the hair. We go to the beach. At last the sea is clean. No more smelly fish. We go to the beach."

The point is, we do go to the beach. Not as often as I would have expected, all things considered. It's always there, but it's not every day we have time to frolic. But when we do find time to frolic, it's frolicsome indeed.Day trip to Mazunte and Zipolite. I know it doesn't look like there's much movement going on, but this was between boiling sand beach volleyball rounds and dancing around in Mexican blankets sessions.

Me, Holly and Bronnie at Zicatela on one of our last nights before Bronnie returned to Nueva Zealandia.

Bronnie's departure gave us all an excuse to have as much fun as possible in the name of "Bronnie's last ________" (week, meeting, chance to eat large quantities of ice cream) We were all in denial until the last minute, when we all caravaned to the airport and took one last adopted family photo.

Jared, Bronnie, Holly, Mike, Chelsea

The surf has been crazy. I haven't been out very much, it's just too heavy. Last night we all watched with dread as a demolished board washed onto shore. We saw the boardless surfer waving for help, then go under. The sun was going down and 20 foot waves were coming in. We were all fearing the worst. Minutes later, everyone on the beach helped push a Sea-Doo offshore and one of the lifeguards found and brought him in, shook but healthy. 30-40 foot waves were pumping all day yesterday. It's hard to tell how big they are until you see the speck of a surfing riding down the face, and you get the idea. 

There are plenty of beaches along the coast that offer more manageable waves. A few of us went to Agua Blanca, where we managed to get some good rides, and I managed to shred my left leg over some hidden rocks. I don't mind the scars, as long as there's a good story to go with it.

Oggy heading out for a few hours of salty snacks

Before.

After.

Surely I jest. I saw that board on the beach yesterday as I walked down to get some coffee, toes in the sand and radioactive wind ruffling my hair.