Woke early and swam in the ocean for the last time. The waves were increasing in size and I got broadsided pretty good by a big one. I was watching the surfers catch it down the shore and realized too late it was going to break right over me. I put my hand over my face to keep my glasses from being washed away, took a deep breath and let it crash over me. A good metaphor for life.
I went back to the hotel and got Sal and we had our last breakfast at Paninos. She had latte and a brownie, and I had coffee and a croissant. I got my camera and we walked back down to the beach and watched the surfers, took pictures, and made friends with dogs. Then it was off to the bus stop.
At the bus stop an old man carrying what looked like homemade cheese in a bucket got on the bus, but not before giving an impassioned speech while squatting on his haunches on the sidewalk right in front of us. I don't know what he was saying but I got a strong feeling we were at the brunt of the joke. The other Mexicans around us were all enjoying it immensely.
The bus ride was a bit hairy, as before. The drivers like to pass each other over and over on the highway, come to a bus stop and both stop and then there's a race to pull out so you are ahead. The passing is complete with good natured obscene gesturing out the windows. It's quite entertaining. We passed a wreck with police directing traffic (again with the machine guns!) and an ambulance.
On arrival in Toronto the first thing I had to do was find a bathroom and the first bathroom in the airport was just disgusting! The toilets were unclean and broken, there was one sink that wouldn't turn off and it was overflowing, there was no soap or paper...this is a lot of people's first impression of Canada!
A few scary transport trucks later along the 401 we are at home, drinking duty free tequila on the front porch.
Just lying around on the beach:
Goodbye Pacific ocean. I love you.