Night at Blue Bayou.

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Utila, 13 marzo 1990, nighttime.
The bar owner has gone home leaving us here at Blue Bayou beach, a place that has started to feel like our second home on Utila....or maybe, our First home since we've hardly spent a night at our hotel the Monkeytail Inn. Every day we come out here, spend the whole day on this beautiful beach, snorkling, drinking Salva Vida beer, smoking pot and getting into serious conversations about life, our innermost secrets, our private lives.....well I'm sure you get the picture. Late afternoon I usually return to the Monkeytail to get our sleepingbags having decided to sleep yet again under the caribean moon.
I'm actually started to think that this whole chapter has got to come to an end. Ever since we teamed up with Peter and his afroamerican lady-friend Nora, this whole trip has changed to a drug infected life style. I mean don't get me wrong but we've been here on this small caribean island for about a week now getting ourselves stoned out of our heads 24/7, talking absolute bullshit.....and now they're discussing how to refill Peter's army green backpack that is not so bulky anymore,with a new supply of mind enhancing goodies.
Peter has got this amigo living in Costa Rica who can supply us with not just free accommodation, but good colombian weed and great coke as well.....the conversation turns heated...I don't want to continue this drug thing, prefer to travel overland to Managua with James, as was our deal, than turn back and head back to Guatamala, experience the guatamalan highlands a bit more, get back to Mexico and spend our last days on Isla De Mujeres before flying back to Amsterdam...

I walk on the beach alone not knowing what to think or do, the moon is nearly full, midnight approaching rapidly, the tide is coming in, I sit down under a palm tree looking out at sea hoping in vain that the oncoming tide will provide the answer.
"You don't really want to come with us, Hans"? Her soft feminine voice brings me back to the real world, I'm not really surprised she has followed me, she always does when I wanna sit alone and contemplate my life.
"Here have a drag from the joint, I know you'll go on alone and James will come with us, tomorrow we wanna go on to Tegucigalpa for our plane to San Jose", I know we'll see again"", ëven when it's in another life time".
She seems to sense I want to be alone leaving me alone under my palm tree and with a half smoked joint.

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