Due to the distance towns are placed away from beaches, our plans changed course and we decided to invest in wheels. Although this will be an unexpected expense, we find it necessary to continue. With that said, the day was spent researching different vehicles and companies. Finally a decision was made with negotionations over the phone to have someone drive the car 1hr down from Chitre, the capital city of the province...I think....
About an hour later...we recieved the car and now are ready to explore at our own pace. Leaving the town, we headed to Playa Venaeo, a large cove filled with diving pelicans, fisherman, and surfers. Unfortunately, two weeks prior, an Isreali company started making roads for thier resort/casino so amist the tranquility, bulldozers and cats were busy excavating the area. There was lttle swell, but it was evident a nice beach break would work great with a swell.
Since financing went to the car, camping on the beach was decided to save a bit of cash. We were told we could camp at Playa Veneao, but due to construction, that was not an option. During our search, we saw a stretch of beach while driving on a hill and decided to explore... We came down to a beach/inlet of Boca Rio Oria. An Unbelievable rivermouth break I can not wait to see with some swell. In the mean time, there must have been ten differnt baitballs of fish at the same time being attacked by hundreds of gulls, pelicans, and ospreys. two Machetee weilding men came walking up and I asked if it was ok to throw some hammocs up and stay. It did not seem to bother them and they went walking away. As we explored the bech i saw two little kids with slingshots climbing trees. Soon they saw us and came up as We were getting our fishing poles ready. As soon as I think my spanish is improving I get humbled becasue although I thought i asked the fathers when they returned about the fishing and where a good spot was, instead we ended up with their two kids...I guess. After the some talking the fathers got into their truck and drove off, while the two ninos were still looking up at us. It was only after talking to them a bit more(a spanish level I am much more suited to) that I realized they asked if I could watch their boys while they went back to get the rest of the family and their fishing lines. We decided to take the boys fishing and let them use our poles. The water was so clear and full of fish you could see them running from the birds through the waves. As the boys fished, i pictured how grat the waves would be with a good swell...Suddenly, as the sun set a bit more, the beach filled with locals and their families, the men fishing while the women and children were eating these tiny sour apple looking fruit. This must be the spot as it took no time for the men to pull out knee high corbina with no problem at all. One of the little boys, angelo hooked into something big, but soon had the fish bite through the line.
Because the beach came alive so much, we left after a bit in search of another quieter beach to set camp. As the sun set, we rushed down to this beach we knew a bunch of "rainbows" (what they call drifters,hippies, rastas) were camping at...we know this because they flooded the bus we arrived on with their non-deoterant and hairy-women armpit crew. The rainbows had left, but there was still a local who took care of the beach. Over the years, he collected things which washed up on shore creating this true to its name "beach shack" complete with tables, hammocs posts, kitchen area and roof lased togeter with old fishing nets and lines. We found out over coffee (a better description would be mud) and "mono", he owned the land and spent the dry season down at the playa teaching drifters how to survive on yacca roots, fish nettting and salting/smoking fish to preserve it. He also was very proud of how clean he kept the area and showed us everything he did to keep it clean. Clean to a point of me waking up early in the morning to him sweeping the sand and starting little fires buring the drift wood and leaves. Kinda funny because you look 100 meter down either direction of the beach and it is full of driftwood and other washed up things, but this one are of the beach was so pristine.
After a starry night of sleeping and an early morning rising to the sun, we started to pack up and head out of town. Abuelo,thats what I called him as I forgot his name, continued talking about this and that. It was only now that he ever asked us if we spoke spanish. He really had a laugh after I said mas o menos. It amazes me the amount of conversation pepople love to have even though they are the only ones talking. I guess there is an international languagueabove speech people can recognize....interest. If you show any interest and listen well, that is all one needs to communicate and get the general drift. At one point, I pointed to a tree and asked how you said that in spanish. Abuelo went on on to point to every tree and say how many years old it was and the kind...truly genuine people.
To this day we have still only men those two americans, those german mullets, and a couple of Brits in a mad serach for an "Atlas", the local beer at nine in the morning all while argueing back and forth about a volcano excursion. The man told andrea that they were heading to a volcano while the woman corrected him saying it was in a caldera of an old volcano. "youre mad woman, youre mad!" he kept saying talking about his wife to andrea all while he left her and us in his dust running around for a beer.
"aqui, los ventanas son las estrallas"-abuelo
