Friday, July 01, 2005
Crap. I forgot about lunch. A small hippie town lay at the crossroads of the highway looping the island and the one pushing us down to the hot ponds. This place was great! Interesting people all around and lots of interesting flyers ("Are you sure you're from this planet? Come to our lecture today and explre!"). We ate at a mexican restaurant, and since no work was in sight we ordered a beer to wash down the funky burrito. As I handed over my license, I lobbed a sarcastic jest at D but was stopped short when the waitress guffawed and let it be known that she didn't believe me and the guy laminated in her hand are the same. Apparently she feels I lost too much weight and was less than impressed with the real me. Huh. My 'friends' had quite the laugh at my expense. Bastards. Don't worry, I got the last laugh. I didn't order a second beer which kept the bill total low which resulted in a smaller tip for her. Showed her...
Moving on. After lunch we made our way further south and found the hot pond. Not secluded and not more than 100 feet off the highway. A tourist spot, but so nice! The pond is actually ocean water and a very pleasant temperature. I think we spent about 3 hours in and around the pond: chicken fights with little kids (they didn't stand a chance! The base kid's head didn't even break the surface of the water so we whipped them!); leaping from trees into the water; sitting on the ocean wall and gazing out across the gorgeous blue ocean and pondering life; laughing at C getting constantly nibbled on by resident fish. Good times.
Pruned almost beyond recognition we toddered back to the car and continued on our way. By this time I was behind the wheel, and I am glad because the fun ramped up. Our way led down a backroad that was pseudo-paved and rutted and pot-holed and muddy and a big mess, but fun as hell to drive. An urge to go airborne threatened to overwhelm me, but I suppressed it and instead was a very calming influence.
Our stated goal in driving this road was to find a place to crash for the night that would not result in being harassed by locals, shot at by pot farmers, arrest or 'Deliverance' type subjugation. A fancy house was followed by a 'FOR SALE' sign which was followed by a small driveway. The vehicle stopped and D went out to explore. Success! A beautiful little clearing adjacent to a cliff over the ocean. Awesome views of the pounding surf stretched in both directions, and there was sufficient room to pull the LRT over and hide it from passers-by.
By now the sun was heading downwards and we headed townwards to find some grub. Pizza slozzed its way into our maws and after a quick stop at the beer store we headed back to our home for the night.
What a night! A fire of soggy and rotten wood provided some light (and a lot of smoke), beside which we had some drinks, played some rummy, and chatted the night away. Horror was expressed at my divulgence of having owned a house, yet hope was professed based on my current state of affairs (not hope for me, hope for stuff). The stars were out in great abundance and I lost myself in gazing up at them with the sound of pounding surf in my ears while a warm breeze caressed me. Amazing.
I tried to sleep outside the tent but it didn't work. No, the little buzzing blood suckers were not the problem. It began to rain. I tried to hide under my blanket but it soaked thru and I admitted my defeat as I crawled into D's tent which he had been kind enough to warm up in my absence.
Waking up to the sound of waves and emerging from a tent to look down at the blue ocean lit by the sun's rays is really unbeatable.