sayulita, mi amor

I lay in bed the other night, listening to the whirring fan in my room, trying to imagine that it was the sound of a ceiling fan. A ceiling fan, gently moving cool evening air over my skin as I slept off all the tiredness that sun, sand and strangely, relaxation, brings. But the fan noise was that of my space heater that runs periodically in my room to keep it up to a robust 60 degrees while I huddle under 3 heavy blankets trying to get my feet to warm up. I am mourning the loss of the warm sun.

Mexico, this year, was perfect. We did very little. I began with reading books, taking walks and setting life goals and slowly evolved to just laying still and doing nothing, sometimes without even leaving the apartment. We even preferred the ease and deliciousness of our favorite burrito counter instead of the commitment and effort it took to go to a restaurant. Claire's margaritas were more delicious than anything we could find in town, so that simplified the cocktail hour as well.

It was also a nice break from pants. I made it my short term goal to wear pants as little as possible. Not on the beach, not in the apartment and sometimes not in town (skirts don't count as pants, although are also desirable to take a break from). It went well. You can do a lot with towels and staying away from open windows. Socks were obviously not permitted on the trip outside the airplane.

This is the view from our apartment at the fabulous Sayulita Trailer Park. We reserved the same room as last year, it was that good. We got to enjoy the music from the garden restaurant below, and spy on the customers and listen to their dinner conversations.

The Trailer Park was mostly unchanged and still provided the same beachfront location, outdoor shower, ping pong table, communal open air television area and lovely service.

This year's surfing portion of the trip went wildly better than last. I rented a board for one day when the afternoon's tides and weather looked to be shaping up just right. A layer of clouds came up as I was preparing to go out, which helps with glare and sunburn. I scanned the left and right breaks, and miraculously the main break down the beach, usually littered with 30 or so people fighting for the same wave, only had 3 other people out. Perhaps the possibility of rain scared everyone else in.

I carefully checked the beach for giant breaking waves that would smash me into the sand and then headed straight out past the beginners to the big girl wave. I relished the calm wait as I sat on my board and waited for swells, like a proper surfer. I caught several gentle, rolling, slow friends and enjoyed the reality of unbroken waves and seeing straight to the rocky bottom, zooming beneath me as I stood. What a difference! Compared to Sayulita, Westport, WA makes you feel like you've gone to surfing hell - an endless barrage of messy, broken, powerful waves that knock you around and refuse to give you a clean ride. I had a great time in the water. I gathered a handful of bruises and sore ribs that always come with warm water surfing for me, but I was glad to have gotten a great session in without major disaster.

The week was just what I needed. We roommates got all caught up with each other. We laughed and ate and danced Salsa Night, all together. I couldn't help but feel blessed that instead of wanting a vacation away from my roommates, I wanted to spend the week with them, and got to do just that. Not everyone has such nice people to keep house with. Viva la trifecta! And Viva Sayulita.