A 4.6 magnitude earthquake almost rattles us out of bed. I did not know that solid, cement box springs could quiver. After kicking-back here on Zicotela Beach for about a week, it may take more than an earthquake to get a rise out of us. We also enjoy a torrential downpour that is more rare than a quake this time of year.
Professional surfers flock to this International Pipeline destination. We watch them while sitting under our palapa, safe from the lethal undertow of huge waves, astounded by how the surfers keep getting back up after taking multiple body blows from the pounding surf. No swimming here…only with a surfboard.
Thong bikinis and board shorts rule the fashion, and I thank the Abundant Universe that Speedos have gone out of style. Still, the beach remains nature’s viagra.
A sea turtle lays about 75 eggs and buries them on shore. The crowd of folks is allowed to get near her after she finishes the arduous task and then heads back out to sea. Her eggs will be dug-up and moved to a safer place for hatching. Baby turtle releases are a popular tourist activity.
Puerto Escondido derives its name from Andres Drake, brother of Sir Francis, who kidnapped and imprisoned a Mixtec Indian woman. She escaped, swam to shore and hid in the jungle never to be found. Since then, other Pirates referred to this place as Bahia de la Escondida, the hidden bay.
Dwight, Chuck, Judy, Chrissie and Scott share some cheer with us back at the casa. The biggest concern of the day is where to eat dinner, who has the best special, and whether or not we will go listen to live music.
For Mare and I, breakfast becomes the favorite meal of the day, and we often forgo dinner and music, opting to enjoy the sunset, take a midnight swim in the pool, and frolic in our room.
Tonight’s sunset reminds me of Planet Jupiter. If I did not know better, steam might ascend after the sun descends into the sea…and no I haven’t had a smoke, at least not today.