Day 231:Mancora, Peru
I finally left Ecuador and took a night bus to Mancora, Peru. I’m always a bit sad when I leave a country; it feels like leaving a relationship. After the rain and chilly Ecuadorian air I thought Mancora’s summery weather would help me survive the blues of missing Cuenca.
I arrived at 5am on the side of the Pan American highway and thankfully a taxi driver was willing to overcharge me by taking my US dollar to drive me to a hostel. Without much sleep on the bus I counted on sleeping in but at 8am I woke up on cue as my internal clock kicked in and decided 3 hours was enough sleep.
I schlepped my way to the hostel pool to bask in the morning sun and as a break I walked across the street to the beach to watch the surfers.
Mancora is like so many other surf towns, with its rows of seashell selling cabanas and beach side sunglasses sellers. The “surf all day and drink all night” crew suddenly annoyed me. On any holiday I’d consider this heaven but I had such negative thoughts running through my head as I walked by other gringos.
- Why do you need to go barefoot in town? locals don’t do it, does that tell you anything? the street is dirty and you’re probably going to get a fungal disease and pass in onto me in the shower
- In a restaurant, even in a hole in the wall, put on a t-shirt, I don’t need to smell your sun-baked body odor
- Why are all tourist clothes really pyjamas in disguise?
Had I started to hate tourists and in return begun to hate myself? I’m no different than them…well I do wear shoes and a shirt so maybe I’m a bit different.
In the sulking I realized that arriving at 5am and only on three hours of sleep I needed to go to bed early and sleep off the self-loathing.
I woke up today feeling refreshed, Peru isn’t only a surfing town and it will get better. Besides those gaucho shorts they were selling at the tourist stand did look really comfortable and a big salad from a tourist restaurant kind of sounds nice.
I promise to keep my shoes on.