There are many reasons for going to the beach in the afternoon, mostly it’s just to get out of the house for a while. We go to cool off, although it’s been a little chilly lately, and have a quiet drink. Then Easter happens.
The Mexicans start celebration days before the actual event. This was the day before Good Friday. There were hundreds of Mexican tourists on the beach and the signs and sounds made it a lot of fun. It’s nice to watch dads playing in the surf with their kids; young girls in their bikinis; competing bands playing; radios blaring; the banana boat taking people for a ride, and beach vendors trying to make a living, all adding up to a couple of hours of entertainment for us. There was even a police boat cruising up and down to keep law and order. (I typed that with a smile on my face.)
One couple was throwing a ball to one another. At first, the young lady couldn’t catch it to save her life, but eventually, she started to do better.
Los Cocos is our restaurant of choice lately, next door to Las Hamacas. Usually, when a band is playing at Las Hamacas it can be heard in Los Cocos, but not this day though: it was all, just too noisy.
One vendor, our amigo Bolivar, always stops and talks to us. When a young girl in a bikini walked right in front of him, the appreciative look he gave me when he saw her was priceless.
An older Mexican came into the restaurant with his guitar and pan flute and sang a couple of songs. It was so noisy we couldn’t even hear him, but we gave him a tip anyway.
On one of the days, the noise was so bad so we decided to go to Terasa Cortez. The place was almost empty, however, they were serving sixteen tables on the beach that they charged 300 pesos for. They have to do this as the Mexicans mostly bring all their own food and booze.
A young kid selling ‘tuba’ (a coconut drink) came to our table and said something very fast to Rosalie in Spanish. When she said she didn’t understand him he gave her a most exasperated look: absolutely hilarious! We found out his name was Alfonso and he became friends with me for a brief moment.
It seems that almost all the bars have a gay waiter. Being gay doesn’t seem to matter here as none of them try to cover it up. It’s quite refreshing that way.
Some of the waiter’s names seem quite odd such as Africa, Pollo and Chava, (means Girl). These are all guys and only one is gay, that we know of.
Can’t wait to go again.
Enjoy… we are usually gone by Easter…