Eating on the beach

I retire to the beach, ‘swim’ – which means getting totally wet in the waves and laughing a lot as they knock me over and right me again!

I’m thrilled when an old womon comes right up to me saying the magic word: “tamales”. She only has chicken tamales and first I refuse but my stomach growls loudly and I try to remember when I ate today.

I protest, I am a vegetarian, no pollo and where is the tamale elote? Or even queso y chili? She lowers the price and before I know it, she's sitting on the beach next to me, hauling out the goods.

I don’t get one but two chicken tamales and are they the BEST! They are wrapped in banana leaves, not corn husks, and there is layer upon layer of tamale. I’m in heaven.

Another vendor passes by and she sells me the round white meat of a coconut with the water still inside. Yum!

I decide to go back to the showers that I discover walking on the beach my first night here. I think this is my second ‘real’ shower since I’ve been in México. It’s funny how habits can change.

I say ‘real’ because the shower is inside a closed room with a door and a faucet high above that runs indefinitely cool water. I wash my hair, scrub my skin until my tan glows reddish – and then run outside and back on the beach in time to watch the incredible sunset – and the guys fishing!