in her adventures groovin along to the beat of life ... recording it here for you to see ... all the beauty and all the strife ... won't you come and dance with me ...

Part 1. El Salvador

Every place I have been I have already had a preconceived idea of what it will be like. I don´t know if everyone does this, but my brain chooses to roll this way. So my idea of El Salvador went something like, big guns, black sand, pumping right handers. Real El Salvador...
big guns: yes. many and very frequently.
black sand: yes. unfortunately sand also consists of undescribable plastic things, and unfortunately discribalbe syringes.
pumping right handers. yes. unfortunately they showed something only slightly resembling their awesome glory... and at this time I was accosted by a local at the infamous Punta Roca. Luckily I didn´t get my surf wear and board stolen and have to walk back in the nude, like many other gringo surfers have had to face.
So like any preconcieved ideas, the line drawing was coloured in by the crayon of experince, with a bit of fr-fr-free stylin round the outside...
Like Pattie and Luis, the most wonderful couple we stayed with... Pattie cooked the most awesome meals for no more than $2 per meal, and her beautiful smile never left her lovely face... reminded me of mumsie!
And ofcourse, we spent many a great hour swinging in hammocks, yarning with our newly aquired british buddies, as the unreleting rain poured down around us.

Part 2. Goodbye Jake

Too much rain, rubbish, and lack of waves pushed Jess and I to call for an advance on Nigaragua. The high hopes I had of scoring El Salvador were unfortuantely not going to be met on this particular trip, and sometimes the best thing you can do is just accept, and with a shrug of the shoulders, move on... At this point Jake decided he wanted to wait around, and we werent going to be waiting with him. Within 30 minutes we had another Australian keen as a bean to join two adventuring lassies... and so the next day, to the veiw of more onshore junk and the smattering of a new storm brewing, we departed... Adios amigo Jake, Hola amigo Tom!

Interlude: Honduras Corruption

No! Este es mi recipo. Este no es la quenta! Muthafucker!(I said that last bit in my head actually). My very precious $100 was not going to be flowing into the pockets of another one of these glassy eyed honduran police. They picked the wrong lady to mess with on this day. Maybe they radioed their buddies ahead but we proceeded to be stopped every 50 ks with all kinds of colourful excuses.
`My money collection´
`You have no cones´
or my absolute favourite
`Give me money´
Needless to say I am pretty extreme and after my first rip off I was on a mission and not one other dirty coked up honduran got their hands on my cash. Woo!

Part 3. Nicaragua

Hello Paradise,

How are you? It is very nice to have finally arrived and I would like to thank you for your hospitality. The early morning sessions you dish up are absolutely devine. You couldn´t reflect that sun off those off shore waves in a more spectacular way. They keep me smiling all untill the next day, and presumably the rest of my life as I look back on these memories. The people you have collected here at this time are of the most wonderful sort, and couldnt be better to drive through a rain storm... in the dark... in the middle of the bush... soaking wet... looking for home... and that other bottle of rum...

If I am not to return here after this week, the memories will be good to me.

Arohanui... Kelly.