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Mancora - Our beach house
The view from our open-air bedroom. Distracted for 2 months by the vastness and beauty of the sights in South America, we've finally arrived at the beach to expose our lily white asses to the sun and start surfing.
Mancora is a very laid back little surf-village near Ecuador, blessed with warm water and numerous good surf spots. We treated ourselves to a 9 bedded apartment overlooking the sea for the first few days but the cost of this shag pad and being woken by our gay landlord with his wrinkley lovers in the jacuzzi every morning forced us to review our options.
We moved into a bamboo beach bungalow with some wild friends who taught us how to really party, hence the hours we were going to dedicate to surfing reduced significantly.
Nevertheless we had some great surf condtions and met some fantastic characters.
Fonchie was our 60 year old drug-fueled surf guide. He drove a bread-bin combi and blared Roxette from his sound system( not the image i had envisaged when i dreamt of my initiation into the surfing culture!). Luckily though, he was sober, as he drove us to various surf-spots, the door-handles of his combi inoperable, as was the
Mancora - Our beach house
Breakfasts on the balcony hand-brake. We did hear some hilarious stories from our Brazilian friend who went out with him again, although this time Fonchie was stoned and got pulled over for driving on the wrong side of the road, and argued with the cop until he let him off!
So our time was spent surfing, chilling and partying on the Peruvian beaches; a welcome tranquility after our previous exertions.. and good rest before we made for the mightly Amazon rainforest.
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