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The sweetness of doing nothing

 I woke up this morning knowing that yesterday’s long walk on the beach without sunscreen was a terrible mistake.   The tops of my feet are burned, as is my neck, and for half the day I couldn’t turn my head to the right without risking a spasm.   It was a real temptation to spend the day in bed reading a book (currently Tom Miller’s “Trading With The Enemy,” a book about Cuba) but I couldn’t find a comfortable position so I ended up standing, and if I was going to stand up I might as well get dressed and face the world.   Plus, Adam and Susan were making pancakes on the griddle of their Weber Baby Q.

To conserve the water in our fresh water tanks for doing dishes and washing vegetables, we are showering in the campground showers nearby. This campground has two sets of showers, one modern and spotless, and another set in a concrete row that seem as original to this 50-year-old business.   We use the old ones, because they are close and we like the creaky rusticity of them.   Water dribbles out the showerhead without much pressure, and the showers themselves are simply concrete rooms with openings at face height for ventilation.   Anyone passing by could easily look in, but there’s no one here to be a voyeur. The floors are clean and the water is hot, and that’s more than I can say for many US-based campgrounds.

Communications have been much better than I expected.   I hadn’t considered the wide availability of wi-fi at Mexican campgrounds.   With wi-fi, I was able to use Instant Messaging to talk to friends and family.   Adam pointed out that I could also use Skype on the laptop to make phone calls, and after setting up my Skype account appropriately I made five calls back to the US for about 50 cents.   With email, IM, and Skype, I’m beginning to see that the cellular phone I set up is probably not going to get used at all on this trip.   I’ll keep it for emergencies.

Our day consisted of so little that I am hesitant to even mention it.   We walked old Kino and revisited the bakery.   We collected seashells on the beach (great shelling here — I started a collection of pink conch shells).   We had communal dinner under the awning again.   We read books, and talked a lot.   I slathered aloe on my feet and took Tylenol.   Except for those last two items, it was a great day. We are only a short step away from becoming complete beach bums.

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Tomorrow David and Ari and little William will head back home to California.   The rest of us are going to leave on Friday.   We’ve completely abandoned the idea of heading further south to San Carlos or Alamos, since those destinations would require 100-200 miles more driving.   Those towns will have to wait for our next trip.

We will come to Mexico again.   The people have been universally friendly, kind, and helpful.   The camping has been superb.     The fresh food has been exciting and inexpensive.   We’ve learned things and gained confidence.   I can see a longer trip in our future, because there is much more that I want to explore.

But there is no need to dwell on our departure at this point.   We have an agenda of nothing much to do, and one more day to do it in.   We will spend one more day savoring the freedom of that, and then think about what’s coming up next.

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