The Beach
It’s Tuesday, February 13th, and we’re still here at Los Cerritos. For the past several days, we’ve said, “Okay, we’ll leave tomorrow,” but then a reason always comes up for us to stay on “just one more day.” My favorite thing to do here is walk on the beach. It’s a long, shallow crescent, about 5 miles from the points on either end according to the guidebook. The RV camping area is about a half mile from the day use beach at the upper end where the surf shop and restaurant/beach bar is. Every morning, first thing, Ellie and I walk for about a mile the other way-- that end of the beach is empty, with just a couple of houses way down, at about the place we turn around. There’s not much going on down there, unless you count the little sand crabs throwing the sand out of their holes and coming out to peek for predators, or pelicans gliding over the water, or cormorants standing close to the water, with their wings half-spread, drying in the morning sun. Cormorants don’t have as much oil on their feathers as other birds do, and they get waterlogged when they dive for fish. This makes them heavier, and helps them dive deeper after fish, but they do have to dry out. In the early afternoon, we take another walk, this time in the opposite direction. This is always entertaining, as there’s always something going on. There’s a guy in a wheelchair who is staying in our RV camping area who wheels himself down the soft, sandy trail to the beach every afternoon with his two Labrador Retrievers in the lead. The guy has a squash racquet and a tennis ball, and uses the racquet to hurl the ball into the surf. The black Lab bounds into the waves and retrieves the ball, dropping it on the sand. The yellow Lab then picks up the ball and carries it over to the guy, and they do the whole thing over again—tag team fetch! Further down, a young woman in a bikini with a hula hoop dances to music from her IPOD as she keeps the hula hoop going without any apparent effort. Today there was a kite-boarder, and I stopped and watched her for awhile. Once we get down to end of the beach, we sit and watch the surfers for awhile, then turn around and stroll back. Sometimes I go for a swim, but it works out better if I take Ellie back to the Royal Palms first. She doesn’t like swimming in the surf, and gets very upset that I’m out there. She races up and down in the shallows, whining and pleading for me to come back. One day she was so distraught that she went and snuggled up to a woman sunning herself on her beach towel to get some help or comfort, or maybe both. The woman was NOT a dog person, and was not at all sympathetic.
There’s entertainment in camp, too. The long-term campers have set up a 9 hole par 3 golf course and are out there every morning. There’s a paperback book exchange outside one of the big RVs, and we’ve been over there to trade in some of the paperbacks we’ve finished. And if we’re sitting outside the Royal Palms reading or relaxing, somebody is always stopping by to introduce themselves, chat, and give a recommendation for a great restaurant, bakery, etc. in town. Today Steve met some people from Minnesota, and yes, they talk just like Frances McDormand in the movie “Fargo.”
More Whales
We were supposed to leave Los Cerritos today, but yesterday I went into Todos Santos to get my nails done. While I was waiting my turn, I got into a conversation with an American woman who lives in Todos Santos six months of the year. Her house is near the estuary and beach where the grey whales come in close. She said in the late afternoon, they come in very close to shore to try to scrape off barnacles. She said she got up the courage to go in swimming, and that a baby came up within 5 feet of her to have a look! I told Steve we had to stay one more day so we could go watch whales. So this afternoon we drove the 15 miles into Todos Santos, got directions to the beach, and set off to watch whales. This beach is only a few miles out of town, down a very narrow, sandy lane. We parked at the end, and walked down the beach to the estuary, a long river-like channel where the ocean backs up into an oasis-like setting with palms trees and mangroves. And in the ocean, right in front of the estuary, 50 to 100 feet from shore, were the whales! We saw heads, tails, backs, fins. Big ones and little ones, swimming slowly or seemingly just hanging out. I can’t even count how many we saw. It was awesome in the true sense of the word. Unfortunately, it was extremely windy and the waves were huge—much too rough to go in swimming; otherwise, I would have been in there in a heartbeat. What an experience!
A Bandito Named Raoul
When we got back to where we had parked the car, a local guy came up to us and said that he had been watching our car, protecting it from banditos, which he said were prevalent in the area. He appeared to want a tip for doing this. We ignored him, but as we went to get in our car, he pointed out that we had a flat tire. Extremely flat. Steve got out the jack and went to work, but the guy, who introduced himself as “Raoul,” insisted on helping, and more or less took over. Steve tried to tell him we didn’t need his help, but it became easier to just let him We began to get suspicious when examined the tire and couldn’t find a nail or glass chunk or anything that would cause a puncture. We became even more suspicious when I gave him 20 pesos ($2) for helping and he was not happy—demanded 100 pesos ($10). We ignored him and drove off. Our suspicions were confirmed when the guy at the tire repair place (llantera servicio) showed us the puncture—it was a small, straight cut on the edge of tread, pretty obviously made by a small knife. Raoul had stuck a knife in the tire when we were at the beach and then expected us to pay him for helping us change it!
I want to emphasize that this has been the first time since we’ve been here that any Mexican has been anything but kind, friendly, and helpful. When I drove into La Paz alone last week and got a flat tire (a legitimate flat—there was a 2 inch long screw imbedded in the tire!), a guy in some kind of public utility truck who spoke no English gave me a ride to the tire repair shop several miles away, explained the situation to the repair shop guys (who agreed to come and fix the flat), drove me back to my car and refused to take any money at all. While I was waiting for the repair guy, another man came up and offered to change the tire for me and would have done so if the repair truck hadn’t pulled up just then. Yesterday when I was getting my nails done, there was a lot of construction noise—it was a new business, and they were still putting on the finishing touches. With one of her employees translating, the owner, who spoke no English, apologized profusely, and said I could come back anytime for a free half-hour massage to make up for having to put up with the noise. Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow. We were going to leave for Cabo San Lucas tomorrow, but we understand the RV park we want to stay at is full until Thursday, so I guess we’ll be here at Los Cerritos “just one more day.”
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
February 5th and 6th
Gorditas
The lady on the square in front of the cathedral was making gorditas, a gordita being a stuffed tortilla. The whole process, from watching her make them, figuring out what she was putting in them, and finally eating them, was really fun. As my sister, Susie, exclaimed when we drove through the wrought iron gates of LaCaille in Salt Lake City for brunch once,”Oh, I see. It’s not the meal, it’s the experience!”
The gordita lady had a large, bowl-shaped griddle, possibly made from a steel drum and fueled by propane, set up next to a card table, which held all her ingredients. Each gordita was made to order. First, she would take a small fistful of tortilla dough roll it into a ball, and then flatten it in her tortilla press. Then she picked the newly-made tortilla up in her hand and piled whatever fillings you wanted on it. The choices were champillons (a chopped onion and mushroom mixture), chicarones (pork cracklings), chorizo (spicy sausage), minced veal, and requeson, which appeared to be a soft, ricotta-like cheese mixed with cilantro. After the fillings were in place, she brought the edges of the tortilla up and around to seal them all in, then re-flattened the whole thing in the tortilla press before putting it on the griddle to cook. When it was done on both sides, she served it up with shredded cabbage, a little mayo, and some salsa on a plastic plate. You ate it right there, sitting on the chairs she had set up, then handed the plate back to her husband, who wiped it off and put it back on the stack to re-use. All this for 150 pesos ($1.50 American) apiece. And they were delicious!
Swimming with Sea Lions
Yesterday, we took the boat tour around Espiritu Santo, which is the large island four miles out from Playa El Tecolote, where we are staying. There are over 900 islands in the Gulf of California, most of them protected, with limited access, and this is one of them. We went out in a panga with six other people—an Italian couple, a French couple, and a Mexican couple. Our capitan, Jesus, didn’t speak much English, but the Mexican guy, Rene Alejandro, spoke excellent English, which he said he learned growing up in Tijuana and watching American TV and reading comic books, and he translated for us. The island is very wild and desolate, and is uninhabited except for one little area where fisherman live and fish. The highlight of the trip was visiting the sea lion colony on the far side of the island, donning our snorkeling gear, and getting into the water to swim with them. It was a little scary at first, especially when the big males swam by—they are HUGE! They didn’t seem to pay us much notice, but the pups (born last May/June) were very curious. They would swim around and around us, right side up and upside down to view us from all angles, then dart off after a buddy, come back, and repeat the whole process again. After our swim, we motored over to a beautiful little cove for lunch and sunbathing. Lunch was another adventure in eating for us—two kinds of ceviche (fish and shrimp) and pickled marlin. There were also ham and cheese sandwiches on white bread for the timid, but Steve and I both went for the more exotic. It was great!
Today we are just hanging out on our beach, relaxing. We’ve been here a week now, and will probably move on, still heading south, to Los Barilles, tomorrow.
The lady on the square in front of the cathedral was making gorditas, a gordita being a stuffed tortilla. The whole process, from watching her make them, figuring out what she was putting in them, and finally eating them, was really fun. As my sister, Susie, exclaimed when we drove through the wrought iron gates of LaCaille in Salt Lake City for brunch once,”Oh, I see. It’s not the meal, it’s the experience!”
The gordita lady had a large, bowl-shaped griddle, possibly made from a steel drum and fueled by propane, set up next to a card table, which held all her ingredients. Each gordita was made to order. First, she would take a small fistful of tortilla dough roll it into a ball, and then flatten it in her tortilla press. Then she picked the newly-made tortilla up in her hand and piled whatever fillings you wanted on it. The choices were champillons (a chopped onion and mushroom mixture), chicarones (pork cracklings), chorizo (spicy sausage), minced veal, and requeson, which appeared to be a soft, ricotta-like cheese mixed with cilantro. After the fillings were in place, she brought the edges of the tortilla up and around to seal them all in, then re-flattened the whole thing in the tortilla press before putting it on the griddle to cook. When it was done on both sides, she served it up with shredded cabbage, a little mayo, and some salsa on a plastic plate. You ate it right there, sitting on the chairs she had set up, then handed the plate back to her husband, who wiped it off and put it back on the stack to re-use. All this for 150 pesos ($1.50 American) apiece. And they were delicious!
Swimming with Sea Lions
Yesterday, we took the boat tour around Espiritu Santo, which is the large island four miles out from Playa El Tecolote, where we are staying. There are over 900 islands in the Gulf of California, most of them protected, with limited access, and this is one of them. We went out in a panga with six other people—an Italian couple, a French couple, and a Mexican couple. Our capitan, Jesus, didn’t speak much English, but the Mexican guy, Rene Alejandro, spoke excellent English, which he said he learned growing up in Tijuana and watching American TV and reading comic books, and he translated for us. The island is very wild and desolate, and is uninhabited except for one little area where fisherman live and fish. The highlight of the trip was visiting the sea lion colony on the far side of the island, donning our snorkeling gear, and getting into the water to swim with them. It was a little scary at first, especially when the big males swam by—they are HUGE! They didn’t seem to pay us much notice, but the pups (born last May/June) were very curious. They would swim around and around us, right side up and upside down to view us from all angles, then dart off after a buddy, come back, and repeat the whole process again. After our swim, we motored over to a beautiful little cove for lunch and sunbathing. Lunch was another adventure in eating for us—two kinds of ceviche (fish and shrimp) and pickled marlin. There were also ham and cheese sandwiches on white bread for the timid, but Steve and I both went for the more exotic. It was great!
Today we are just hanging out on our beach, relaxing. We’ve been here a week now, and will probably move on, still heading south, to Los Barilles, tomorrow.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Los Cerritos
This entry will be out of order because I´m sitting in the labanderia (laundry) using their computer while my stuff is getting clean and using their computer. The laptop wouldn´t plug in there, so Steve left with it to find an internet cafe, and I have two blog entries saved on the laptop and ready to paste in.
We are staying at Los Cerritos, a gorgeous beach on the Pacific side of the Baja, a little south of Todos Santos. When we first pulled into the camping area, we were bummed out--it was just a parking lot and seemed kind of trashy, and we thought we wouldn´t stay more than a night. However, someone left, and we were able to find a better spot, with an unobstructed view of the ocean. You can´t park on the beach here--too soft, and the dunes are in the way, but it´s close by. The whales come by here, and a big form of entertainment is to sit on the dune or the beach and watch for spouts. Some are as close as a couple hundred yards from the beach, and we see lots of spouts, some whale backs, and an occasional tail. The far end of the beach has huge rollers, and is popular with surfers. It´s been fun to walk down there and watch the action.
Yesterday when we pulled in, we were happily surprised to find Len and Betty Kerr, our ¨neighbors¨ on Playa El Tecolote. Yesterdaay was Len´s 65th birthday, and we decided to go into the little town nearby, El Pescadero, to celebrate. We got a recommendation from one of the other Rvers camped near us. To get off the subject for a minute, that was an interesting story. He´s been coming down to this same beach for 14 years. At first he and his wife used to drive down, but now they leave a truck and their 5th wheel at a storage area in the town, and just fly down and pick it up, spend 4 or 5 months, then put it back in storage and fly back home to British Columbia. Oh, and speaking of British Columbia, 90 percent of everybody we´ve met is from B.C., and I´m learning to speak Canadian, at least British Columbian, along with Spanish. ¨Yeah¨ always comes in pairs, as in ¨Yeah, yeah¨ instead of just ¨Yeah;¨ if you´re nervous about doing something, you´re not a wuss or a wimp, you´re a ¨jam tart,¨ and if you don´nt check in with them when you say you will, your kids will ¨have a bïrd¨not a fit.
Now back to the birthday bash. We drove into El Pescadero and found the place, La Choya withoug any trouble. It´s a teeny place, bright orange half-walls of stucco, and a palapa-style roof. Maybe six tables. Two sisters run it, do all the cooking. No English spoken.There were only about 5 things on the menu, which was written on a large dry-erase board. We weren´t even sure they were open because the sisters were out front, washing down all the chairs, but they invited us in, not letting us sit down until they wiped down some chairs for us. Steve, Len, and Betty wanted beer, which they didn´t serve; we were told to go across the street, buy the beer at the beer bar, and bring it back. Can you see that happening in Utah! We were the only customers in the place, and the food was prepared as we waited. It was amazing!Steve and Len had the house specialty--chili rellenos--which were stuffed and dripping with cheese. Betty had camarones (shrimp) sauteed with garlic. She counted--there were 20 good-sized shrimp on her plate. I had the chicken in mole sauce, and it was to die for. I´ve never had mole that good. I asked her what was in it, and didn´t understand a word of what she told me. She left, and a minute later, came back with all the ingredients to show me! Chili negro (black chili), cinnamon, cloves, sesame seeds, and raisins, simmered a long time. Our meals were served with rice, refired beans, salad, and warm tortillas. And for dessert, she brought us each a smal plate with chopped apples and jicama drizzled with strawberry jam. Light and refreshing. The price for all four meals? Forty dollars American, and that included a generous tip. After dinner, they introduced us to their families, who live right there, with hugs and smiles all around. It was a really special evening.
Tonight it´s watching the sun set over the Pacific and looking at stars.
We are staying at Los Cerritos, a gorgeous beach on the Pacific side of the Baja, a little south of Todos Santos. When we first pulled into the camping area, we were bummed out--it was just a parking lot and seemed kind of trashy, and we thought we wouldn´t stay more than a night. However, someone left, and we were able to find a better spot, with an unobstructed view of the ocean. You can´t park on the beach here--too soft, and the dunes are in the way, but it´s close by. The whales come by here, and a big form of entertainment is to sit on the dune or the beach and watch for spouts. Some are as close as a couple hundred yards from the beach, and we see lots of spouts, some whale backs, and an occasional tail. The far end of the beach has huge rollers, and is popular with surfers. It´s been fun to walk down there and watch the action.
Yesterday when we pulled in, we were happily surprised to find Len and Betty Kerr, our ¨neighbors¨ on Playa El Tecolote. Yesterdaay was Len´s 65th birthday, and we decided to go into the little town nearby, El Pescadero, to celebrate. We got a recommendation from one of the other Rvers camped near us. To get off the subject for a minute, that was an interesting story. He´s been coming down to this same beach for 14 years. At first he and his wife used to drive down, but now they leave a truck and their 5th wheel at a storage area in the town, and just fly down and pick it up, spend 4 or 5 months, then put it back in storage and fly back home to British Columbia. Oh, and speaking of British Columbia, 90 percent of everybody we´ve met is from B.C., and I´m learning to speak Canadian, at least British Columbian, along with Spanish. ¨Yeah¨ always comes in pairs, as in ¨Yeah, yeah¨ instead of just ¨Yeah;¨ if you´re nervous about doing something, you´re not a wuss or a wimp, you´re a ¨jam tart,¨ and if you don´nt check in with them when you say you will, your kids will ¨have a bïrd¨not a fit.
Now back to the birthday bash. We drove into El Pescadero and found the place, La Choya withoug any trouble. It´s a teeny place, bright orange half-walls of stucco, and a palapa-style roof. Maybe six tables. Two sisters run it, do all the cooking. No English spoken.There were only about 5 things on the menu, which was written on a large dry-erase board. We weren´t even sure they were open because the sisters were out front, washing down all the chairs, but they invited us in, not letting us sit down until they wiped down some chairs for us. Steve, Len, and Betty wanted beer, which they didn´t serve; we were told to go across the street, buy the beer at the beer bar, and bring it back. Can you see that happening in Utah! We were the only customers in the place, and the food was prepared as we waited. It was amazing!Steve and Len had the house specialty--chili rellenos--which were stuffed and dripping with cheese. Betty had camarones (shrimp) sauteed with garlic. She counted--there were 20 good-sized shrimp on her plate. I had the chicken in mole sauce, and it was to die for. I´ve never had mole that good. I asked her what was in it, and didn´t understand a word of what she told me. She left, and a minute later, came back with all the ingredients to show me! Chili negro (black chili), cinnamon, cloves, sesame seeds, and raisins, simmered a long time. Our meals were served with rice, refired beans, salad, and warm tortillas. And for dessert, she brought us each a smal plate with chopped apples and jicama drizzled with strawberry jam. Light and refreshing. The price for all four meals? Forty dollars American, and that included a generous tip. After dinner, they introduced us to their families, who live right there, with hugs and smiles all around. It was a really special evening.
Tonight it´s watching the sun set over the Pacific and looking at stars.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Even more recent photos...
Click on the pictures for a better view:
This is our camp site near La Paz.
This was a pretty road/trail. We are east of La Paz near Pitching League (Picilinque)
When we turned back I discovered that we'd been followed by some stealthy character.
The fish are biting...
This is our camp site near La Paz.
This was a pretty road/trail. We are east of La Paz near Pitching League (Picilinque)
When we turned back I discovered that we'd been followed by some stealthy character.
The fish are biting...
Sunday, February 4, 2007
Recent photos 2...
Click on the pictures for a better view:
This is the first time I´ve ever seen a school bus pulled over by the police.
Downtown Loreto close to old town. Loreto is a beautiful place.
Sandy snuck away and was later found in a fabric shop. She looks guilty don´t you think?
This is a panga. It is used everywhere in Mexico for just about everything. These guys had been out 25 miles fishing overnight when we saw them returning home.
Ballena Gris. The moms would saunter along with the baby following closely behind.
Whale tail
This is the first time I´ve ever seen a school bus pulled over by the police.
Downtown Loreto close to old town. Loreto is a beautiful place.
Sandy snuck away and was later found in a fabric shop. She looks guilty don´t you think?
This is a panga. It is used everywhere in Mexico for just about everything. These guys had been out 25 miles fishing overnight when we saw them returning home.
Ballena Gris. The moms would saunter along with the baby following closely behind.
Whale tail
Sunday in LaPaz
We drove in again today to pick up our laundry and do some more catching up on emails. While Steve was doing his thing on the computer at the internet cafe, I walked across the street to the cathedral, and happened to be there at just the right time to attend Mass. I got there about 15 kminutes early and easily found a seat, but by the time Mass started, the church was filled to capacity. The experience was lovely; it ended up being a High Mass (where many of the congregation's responses are sung, rather than spoken), accompanied by a guitar, an accordion, and a tamborine. There were no missals or hymnals, but everybody seemed to know the words and the tune. It was lovely--happy and reverent and uplifting all at the same time. To my surprise, my Spanish is good enough that I was able to identify which gospel was being read, and even got the gist of the homily. The priest was an excellent speaker--I wish I had understood more.
After Mass, since Steve was still "computing," I asked the girls at the counter where "la tienda de telas" (fabric store) was. They showed me on the map I had,and, since it was only a few blocks away, I walked down to check it out. After consulting my handy dandy phrase book, I was able to ask a clerk to direct me to the "algodon" (cotton), and I picked out a couple of pieces. It itsn't great fabric, but the quality seemed better than the stuff I saw in Loreto, so I bought a meter each (a little more than a yard) for under $2 American a meter.
It's lujnch time, so when I finish this, we'll find someplace to eat. There's a little old lady with a table and charcoal grill set up in the square in front of the cathedral, and she's selling whatever it is she's cooking. Nothing written on her sign rings a bell, so we will smile and point, I guessl. It will be an adventure.
After Mass, since Steve was still "computing," I asked the girls at the counter where "la tienda de telas" (fabric store) was. They showed me on the map I had,and, since it was only a few blocks away, I walked down to check it out. After consulting my handy dandy phrase book, I was able to ask a clerk to direct me to the "algodon" (cotton), and I picked out a couple of pieces. It itsn't great fabric, but the quality seemed better than the stuff I saw in Loreto, so I bought a meter each (a little more than a yard) for under $2 American a meter.
It's lujnch time, so when I finish this, we'll find someplace to eat. There's a little old lady with a table and charcoal grill set up in the square in front of the cathedral, and she's selling whatever it is she's cooking. Nothing written on her sign rings a bell, so we will smile and point, I guessl. It will be an adventure.
Saturday, February 3, 2007
La Paz at last!
Hello from the City of Peace! La Paz is a truly beautiful place. The malecon (waterfront walkway) stretches for three miles along the beautiful turquoise Gulf of California. There are palm trees, benches, sculptures, little lookout piers all along the way. I´m sitting in an internet cafe by the town square, right across the street from the cathedral. Pictures next post.
We are camped on Playa Tecolote, which means Owl Beach, about 15 miles outside of LaPaz. It´s very scenic (pictures next post) and the camping is free. There are quite a few RVs camped here, and everyone is very friendly. In fact, it´s hard to walk all the way down the beach because people stop you and want to visit. Almost everyone we´ve met here, as well as elsewhere along our route, seems to be from British Columbia. The couple in the RV camped next door to us on the beach are from Vancouver, and live on their 40 foot power boat there. The guy, Len, just retired, and he and his wife, Betty, are on their first Baja trip, just like us. We´ve spent the last two days just hanging out and relaxing--walking on the beach, riding our bikes, and general hanging out. Today we came into town to grocery shop and do laundry. The waiter at the place we had lunch--fish tacos, of course-- drew us a map to the labanderia (laundry), which we found without too much trouble. Then the fun began! The lady inside spoke absolutely no English. My Spanish is coming along, but the trouble is that, although I can usually ask for what I want in Spanish, I can only occasionally understand what they tell me back. Eventually, I figured out that she was the proprietress, and that she was using all four of the washing machines. Doing the laundry myself was not an option-- she would do it for me. Somehow or other, we were able to negotiate a price--about $10 American for tres loads, and I could pick it up after 7 p.m. tonight. I was proud of myself, because I was able to ask (and understand her reply) in Spanish what the hours were tomorrow (Domingo) and Monday (Lunes), and agreed that we´d come back Lunes and pick it up. Phew!
Now it´s off to the supermarket and then back to the beach.
We are camped on Playa Tecolote, which means Owl Beach, about 15 miles outside of LaPaz. It´s very scenic (pictures next post) and the camping is free. There are quite a few RVs camped here, and everyone is very friendly. In fact, it´s hard to walk all the way down the beach because people stop you and want to visit. Almost everyone we´ve met here, as well as elsewhere along our route, seems to be from British Columbia. The couple in the RV camped next door to us on the beach are from Vancouver, and live on their 40 foot power boat there. The guy, Len, just retired, and he and his wife, Betty, are on their first Baja trip, just like us. We´ve spent the last two days just hanging out and relaxing--walking on the beach, riding our bikes, and general hanging out. Today we came into town to grocery shop and do laundry. The waiter at the place we had lunch--fish tacos, of course-- drew us a map to the labanderia (laundry), which we found without too much trouble. Then the fun began! The lady inside spoke absolutely no English. My Spanish is coming along, but the trouble is that, although I can usually ask for what I want in Spanish, I can only occasionally understand what they tell me back. Eventually, I figured out that she was the proprietress, and that she was using all four of the washing machines. Doing the laundry myself was not an option-- she would do it for me. Somehow or other, we were able to negotiate a price--about $10 American for tres loads, and I could pick it up after 7 p.m. tonight. I was proud of myself, because I was able to ask (and understand her reply) in Spanish what the hours were tomorrow (Domingo) and Monday (Lunes), and agreed that we´d come back Lunes and pick it up. Phew!
Now it´s off to the supermarket and then back to the beach.
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