A Tale of Two Beaches. Chapter One

Today was an exploration day.  Exploring is hungry work, requiring a solid breakfast.  The good Senorita at Dim's Hostal laid out the full desayuno spread even though I believe I am the only one staying here.  Papaya, Pineapple, eggs to order and even passable coffee.  There were some nice little surprises such as guava marmalade for the toast.  It was more than enough to keep me on my feet, or on my bike seat, for the morning.

Desayunos.  I can't seem to edit this one so turn your screen 90 degrees.  Perdon.

I saddled up Trusty Rusty IX and pedaled through the already building heat of the morning.  I might not be accurate on the actual number of Trusty Rusties that have preceeded this one, but today I am saying this cheapy Schwinn is number 9.  

We rolled easily through the quiet little town of Pedasi', past the squat church and the plaza which contains a group of disturbing statues of little children.  These statues look like bad Hummel figurines that have been subject to some serious abuse.  They are creepy.  Down the paved road, staying on the shady side, the beach is an easy three kilometers or so.  Like most beaches around the world, this one is a sea level and the town is not.  There would be some sweating on the way back.  

Old Guy selfie-on-bike.  Don't try this at home.

Out of town a bit, rolling up and down small hills, the road forks.  To the left is the way to Playa del Toro, the beach of Chapter One.  To the right, well, that would be telling.  

Trusty Rusty IX makes it to the beach.

Based on what I had heard, I expected the beach to be party central, but this was not the case.  As I dropped  down the last hill, I found the beach abandoned and lovely.  There is not much I can add to the basic description of a beach.  Some are sandy, some are rocky, etc. etc.  I am sure there are uncountable descriptions of beaches that you can refer to and avoid being bored by another one.  If you need some hints, this beach had beautiful rock shoals and hard packed sand, perfect for walking at a medium tide, which it was.  The surf was rough in between the rocks and not really conducive to a swim, so I contented myself with tracking hermit crabs and sneaking up on burrowing crabs.  

If you really want to see what the beach looked like, here is a link to a video.  Waves look better when they are moving:

http://youtu.be/49oYbbOT1Jw

Crab Tracks

The burrowing crabs are endlessly entertaining.  I watched as one dropped out of sight below the surface of the sand.  In fifteen seconds or so, he would pop to the surface with a load of sand tucked between his body and his larger claw.  With a sideways scuttle and a flick, the little fellow heaved the sand away from his burrow with surprising velocity.  I watched and watched, but I am still not sure how he held the sand together in a throwable shape before hucking it to the side.

Sitting in the shade of a little lean-to completed the beach tour.  I seem to have succumbed to Latin Time in a serious way.  Eventually I roused myself from my reverie and saddled up.  Up being the operative word, I powered Trusty back up the small hills towards the fork in the road and Chapter Two.