Sayulita - Day 4

As promised, photographic evidence of the hardest working man in Sayulita, with brains to match.

Lalo is once again conferring with Jared regarding plans for life.  Seriously, this guy is a gem.  We've travelled all over and we've yet to meet a person that captured our attention as Lalo has.  The funny thing is, Jared looks forward to these conversations.  As do all his parents, step parents, grand parents, step grand parents, et al.

Honestly, we were lazy today.  4 hours at the beach and barely a person made a move for the water.  Apparently, the waves weren't exactly as we ordered.  The Old Man took a day off from surfing, claiming he needed to rest and let his muscles build back up.  Really, which muscles does one use to fall off a surf board?

We chose the path less well travelled tonight, going a block towards Gringo Hill instead of hanging out on the main plaza area.  A fine little Spanish tapas joint was discovered.

We enjoyed Pacificos and red wine from Spain.  Both Jared and Amy are a bit disturbed at CW's latest pastime . . . He feels compelled to keep an eye out on the street.  What's he looking for?

He did this every time we stopped for tacos tonight. Speaking of which, our favorite street vendor, Eduardo, sets up shop just to Wilson's left.  Last night, Jared was in charge of the salsa, both suffered from the heat.  Tonight, Wilson took charge and delegated proper salsa distribution.

The results . . . the same after burner effect they both felt last night,  Note that there is only one Pacifico bottle on the table.  Jared soon learned that emergency beers always go to the Old Man.

With all the construction in Sayulita, bars with banos are a tough commodity around the town plaza.  Water gets cut off from time to time when the worker guys deem it necessary.  Thus, one of our favorite haunts has been a "one beer only" stop the past two nights, since they don't have a working bano.  But tonight, the workers have moved onto tormenting another street, so it was all systems go.

For those with sharp vision, you did read the hamburger sign correctly.

Not even Whistler has a bar called Monchis.  In spite of this establishment, the presence of weed is, well, non present at all.  About a 100 vendors hit us up each day at the beach, and none offers weed.  You'd have an easier time scoring a joint at sea tac than here.  Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration.

Many of you may correctly assume that all is easy down here on the Mexican Riviera, and for the most part it is, until one retires for the night.  These stairs must be climbed every night.  The horror, the horror.

And don't even think about going back down after too many beers.

Shop early for cervesas.  There's a finite number of times that a person can negotiate these stairs after a night out in Mexico.