This body is not ready for the beach

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Safety in numbers is the tactic for this next frontier ( tho I still lose a jumper) with 5 people we met in Cuenca.........and we end up together for the next week.

One of which, Rochelle, was the most whining pessimist I have ever encountered and I really dont have time for people like that travelling. The food isnt like home, thats the point, so dont order, stare at it in disgust and then announce you have to leave. She only lasted 2 weeks in the end and then hurried back to LA, good............

Mancora: this lovely beach town with hippy artisans lining the streets traps us for a week. The only bad is the Pan Americana- SA´s version of the M1- running straight through it. I have to giggle as George squirms at a beach vendors dried Seahorses and this evolves into out an out laughter as the next day, "Jaws, Sam, today he has jaws!" and sure enough he does, dangling off a big string over peoples heads including my vegetarian travel buddy!!

My 1st encounter of the Pacific Ocean witnessed 5 wild dolphins swimming amongst huge pelicans, swimmers and surfers. Fabulous- but surfing I discover is not my strength. Delicious delicious fresh seafood and cocktails on the beach everyday at sunset and bioluminescent waves at night (remember that Dan?) couldnt be better until an aquaintence gets bricked in the face by a local guy and loses 2 teeth.

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