Two wheels better

Mom and I finally got up the nerve to rent a scooter today. We headed down to the beach, Playa Zincatela. There, we found a woman renting quads and scooters out of a shoe box office at the entrance to one of the hotels.

After some negotiating and waiting for the moto to return from the gas station, we got a quick lesson, directions to two spots to go just out of town, and two helmets. But they only had one scooter for rent, so we had share it.

Slowly at first, over hand-laid brick, we headed toward Barra de Navidad (loosely translates to “The Christmas Sand Bar”.) I remembered the directions well. First we would pass the Pemex station, then the Puente, then we would see a sign for it.

The bridge was long and formed a low, upside-down arch. Upon seeing it, I became afraid. I stopped and asked in a little store.

The girl at the store answered clearly. Just after the bridge, we would have to turn right. There was no avoiding it. I looked straight ahead as we crossed, thinking that one turn of my head and I might take us off the edge.

Once across, the surface of road changed drastically. After hitting the requisite “topes,” or speed-bumps, the pavement ended. We descended on packed sand and dry mud. When we arrived at a goat farm, I had to ask again.

“Is there a beach this way?” as I pointed up the narrow lane with doubt in my tone.

We passed more farms and empty fields. The path turned into a two ruts with grass between. Finally, a turn revealed a view: 200 ft below us lay a wide, shallow river. Hundreds of birds of many types were visible. And the ocean crashed in the distance.

We passed two women washing clothes on the side of river. We followed the track to the end, we saw–you guessed it–a bar and restaurant. It was paradise. We had cokes.