The pink scarf wrapped around her hair and loosely flowed down her back, finding its resting point just below the waist. This was the only item of clothing worn by the woman who was steadily swinging her way toward me. Unlike Shakira, it was evident that her hips did, indeed lie, as she walked with an exaggerated swing through the sand. Her walk was enough for me to turn my eyes back to my book, after all, there were a few other guys hanging around me, under the shade of a palapa. A few seconds later I heard ‘excuse me’, she was now standing right in front of me. I decided to keep my eyes on my book, and then a guy eagerly jumped forward, with his eyes also jumping all over the naked woman. She then said ‘ash tray’, handed him a cigarette but, and walked off like she owned the whole beach.
5 quid goes to me
My banana leaf weaved hat was pulled down low on my forehead, it was mid day, and me and my face decided that between the siesta hours, we would do our best to avoid the glorious sun rays that beamed down without mercy. This had to be the last climb I thought to myself, Continue reading →
The road was very mountainous, and the pictures will show, and I was plagued with bike problems. The most serious being my chain breaking, and not having a spare. I tried to break the one around my wrist but it was so rusty, I almost broke my wrist in a desperate attempt. In the end, I had to fix my chain short which resulted in a skip every 20 or so pedals, until I made it to the next bike shop, a days ride away. Another day instead of the usual sundown bed down routine, I didn’t get to sleep until midnight after a bunch of failed camping attempts, (damn you ‘patron’ (boss). I’m sure Montreal punishes me for taking so much time off the bike, as this is a recurring problem. Also, after rationing my last bit of water until I arrived at the next town, I was met by the toll booth assistant from hell. Legally, your not allowed to bike on the toll roads here in Mexico, but I have never had any problems and they always just let me pass, but this time was different. They wouldn’t let me off the road and insisted that I continue my illegal activities and ride on a few 100km to get water! I pleaded that I was out of food and water and there was no way I could go on, they, that is the armed police guard, and the witch in the booth, insisted that their booth was special and I couldn’t pass through it, period. OK, I was desperate, so I asked if I could leave my bike here, and walk into the town to get water and food, they said, no! I was bamboozled and angry at the illogical thought process they must have been going through, but more so, in the lack of compassion showed to a traveler who obviously was in need of water and just wanted to get pass. I ended up having to jump a barbed wire fence down the road, with all my stuff, and through a corn field and entered the rear of the town with a sour taste in my mouth, which quickly went away with every smile I was given.