Out Of Seclusion


DAY 16: As chilled out a place Surf Camp Horizonte was, I will admit that it had gotten me feeling a bit lonely; away from the more-frequented Playa Sunzal, it was on the secluded beach of Playa Zonte where locals hung out like beach bums—sometimes playing with new puppies named Mambo—when they weren’t off attending to some chores.  There were only a handful of people around, with many other surf camps closed down for the low season, while others used the time to construct more buildings to their establishments, or decal their boards. 

THAT MORNING AFTER BREAKFAST, I went out with Tilo for another surf session.  The beach was deserted and I was the only one out in the surf; Tilo was feeling lazy and just coached with hand signals from the shore.  I managed to catch a few ocean wave breaks and stand balanced again, crouching down to keep a low center of gravity.  As satisfying as it was, I was turned off by the incredible amount of physical effort it takes to get there.  Setting up to surf a wave really kicks your ass, as you walk against ocean forces pushing you back to shore, lugging your surfboard and fighting for it not to catch a wave just yet.  Plus there’s the occasional setback when a wave throws you back at every advance, sometimes making you lose balance and disoriented, hoping that your surfboard won’t hit you in the head.  (Any real surfer reading this probably things I’m a total noob, but so be it.) I concluded that surfing can be fun, but setting up is a bitch and there had to be some better way, like ski-lifts at a ski resort.

Despite the bruises and scrapes I got, I still received some validation from Tilo.  “Better than yesterday!”

WITH NOTHING TO DO at midday, I was feeling a little antsy and decided to go into town to stock up on things, do some internet, and figure out my next flight out of El Salvador.

“[Is there an office of flights?]” I asked Tilo.  “[A travel office?]”

“[Yes, in La Libertad,]” he told me.  “[I’ll go with you.]”

We walked up the road from the camp to the main road, to wait for the chicken bus.  But like the other ones, there was no set schedule and they only came when the driver felt like doing a route.  Midday called for a little laziness, and it took over an hour before it finally arrived—accentuating the secluding feeling of where we were.  In the interim, a local confused me for chino (Chinese) while cargo trucks zipped back and forth with hauls of lumber.  Tilo joked with me about chicas and goritas (chunky girls, not the Taco Bell food items).

The bus finally arrived and we rode back to La Libertad in a cabin full of Jesus stickers and paraphernalia.  On the way, Tilo pointed out the popular Playa Sunzal; I saw dozens of people out in the surf as opposed to one lonesome me.  I regretted the advice of my Let’s Go book, even more so when we arrived back in town, only for me to see a different side of town that I hadn’t the day before, one more developed with beach resorts and a nice shopping/eating promenade.  Tilo pointed out the places where international surf stars had stayed, away from the smelly pier. 

After a supermarket run, Tilo and I went out for lunch at the food stalls, trying to get pupusas, the El Salvadorean speciality I’d been urged to have as much as I could from friends back home.  We couldn’t seem to find any at two in the afternoon, even at the three places we asked.  “[How come there are no pupusas?]” I asked.

“[Only at breakfast and at night.  Maybe at five they’ll have them.  I don’t know.]”

We settled on a standard carne y arroz dish until a Salvadorean woman in a perfect American accent noticed our predicament.  “You should try them.  They’re good.”

“[But there are no pupusas,]” I explained to her.  She and her family got up and made them special for us right away—pupusas mixtos, with beans and cheese. 

AN INTERNET SESSION and phone call determined that I should not get a flight out of El Salvador just yet—I’d meet up with Elisa’s cousin JP the following evening—so that was it for errands in La Libertad.  Tilo and I waited for another bus driver to get into the mood, while a girl gave Tilo her number.  He filed it in his cell phone address book simply as “Chica.”

Sooner than we thought we would, the bus brought us back to the secluded Playa Zonte.  I was recharged after being back in the civilization of a town again, and was feeling less alone.  “Let’s go surfing!” I said. 

While surfing until dusk (picture above), the place got a little livlier after all.  More surfers showed up, with more people playing in the sand, and the secluded beach was out of seclusion.  It was even more so when I met Claude, Tilo’s other student, who bought a dinner of fish and oysters for the three of us, complemented by rounds of beers.  A 47-year old from Vancouver Island, BC, he asked me what I thought about his predicament:  a 25-year-old desperately seeking Filipino woman in the Philippines he’d met on DateAnAsian.com was urging him to meet her and her family for the first time.

Meanwhile, Tilo and 17-year-old Jose were cat-calling the chicas, only to be distracted by the wonderful sky.  “Look at the colors of the sky,” Tilo said.  “Fuck yeah, man!”

The rest of the night only got more social as time went on, especially after I busted out the bottle of rum and bottle of Coke I’d bought at the supermarket.  With the beach bums of Playa Zonte, and the other lone Canadian in camp being more social, and the golf-course developer passing through for the night en route to Costa Rica with his wife, it wasn’t a lonely night at all.  In fact, a few of us continued the party over to the next surf camp until the moments I can’t remember.  I do remember watching a surf video where pro surfers set up a wave with no effort at all, by merely being towed there by jet ski.  Cheaters.


Next entry: Surf And Turf

Previous entry: Surf's Up


Like to share a comment for "Out Of Seclusion"? Please do so below:

Name:

Email (required for notification):

Your website or blog URL (if you care to share):

Check this box if you want your information stored so you don't have to enter it again.

Check this box if you want to be notified of additional comments via Email.

Help the fight against comment spam by submitting the word you see below.



Comments for "Out Of Seclusion"

  • WOW, I’m officially caught up, with only yesterday to write about left… stay tuned.

    Posted by  on  12/08  at  04:41 PM


  • I see you are keeping fruit in your diet.  Take that high cholesterol!

    But wait… pupusas made just for you on the fly?  How could you refuse that bean and cheese goodness?  Maybe Lipitor isn’t such a bad idea.  And it just keeps getting better with the fish and oysters… beer, rum and coke...?  I came home too soon.

    Posted by  on  12/08  at  05:18 PM


  • oysters look awesome…

    tilo is my hero

    Posted by markyt  on  12/08  at  07:20 PM


  • I love me some pupusas!! smile

    That picture is gorgeous - thanks for making me hate you even more. Word.

    Posted by  on  12/08  at  08:06 PM


  • Thanks for your useful info, I think it’s a good topic

    Posted by Russell Verner  on  01/12  at  10:53 PM


back to top of page

Next entry:
Surf And Turf

Previous entry:
Surf's Up


This blog entry about the events of Thursday, December 06, 2007 was originally posted on December 08, 2007 on the travel blog, "The Global Trip: The Central American Eviction Tour* (*with jaunt to Colombia)." It is a trip blog chronicling a six-week journey through Central America, with a jaunt to Bogota, Colombia.




SUBSCRIBE TO THE RSS FEED HERE

OR FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER HERE

OR SHARE THIS: | More



SBRs? WHMMR? 1981ers? Confused at some of the jargon that’s developed with this blog and its readers?  Try looking them up on The Global Trip Wiki.

Spelling or grammar error? A picture not loading properly? Help keep this blog as good as it can be by reporting bugs.






THE GLOBAL TRIP PLEDGE DRIVE

Show support and pledge a donation to Erik by buying official Global Trip gear and apparel! CLICK HERE!

All written and photographic content is copyright 2002-2009 by Erik R. Trinidad (unless otherwise noted).
"The Global Trip" and "swirl ball" logos are service marks of Erik R. Trinidad.
TheGlobalTrip.com v.3 is powered by Expression Engine



river cruises