pinche gringo surf posers

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I went to El Salvador but I didnt find the peace that I was so desperately looking for. I couldnt get money out
at the ATM and I didnt want to go to San Salvador, just for that, equally spooked by the stories of other travellers telling me, that they couldnt get any. Not good news either.

The beach was an expensive shanty town, the hostel located next to a mangrove that would also be described as a stinky mosquito infested estuary. The host family was very nice though, we practiced our english and spanish, watching coloumbian soap operas which mainly resemble soft porn.

Rented a board and went sunrise surfing. It was windstill, glassy and clean as you would expect what I didnt want to see were the 50 other surfers that also got up, the whole point of having a piece of freedom was lost. I got one bumpy whitewash ride that almost ended in the head of a fellow surfie.

That was El Tunco for me, The day before, equally bored by the army of surf posers, I went over some rocks to the next beach El Sunzal. It was like stepping into a different world, not one person at the beach, giant waves exploding into barrels too violent to surf. I went in, paddled out and got smacked around by one of the beasts.

Finally, I was sitting there, feeling the full oceans force, ending up in the washing machine and having found peace, being happy for a short time. I got to the beach, sat down, watched the sunset alone, before I had to make my way back to pinche gringo touristas heaven. I never left a surf beach that quickly. Back to Antigua Guatemala....

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