Left Puerto behind yesterday evening, having spent my last day there sitting on a beautiful beach looking out at the surf and discussing with Derek the relative merits of the various waves like two old surf bums. Chose not to head out into them, however, as it felt as if the elbow and shoulder joints of my right arm might have been seperated and reconnected repeatedly the day before, each time I threw myself with one arm over my board into an incoming wave. It is possible that this is a young man's sport... At any rate, another overnight bus ride found us staggering out into early morning heat, homes on our backs and thus moving like snails, with no idea (besides a name - Tapachula) where we were, and even less idea which way we
... read more
