We spent all of August in one spot: Grover Beach. The flat we lived in easily absorbed the contents of our van, though we managed to spread our provisions on all levels of the home. Easily a routine was established and we met neighbors, learned which to avoid, gained an understanding of the vicinity, and became a bit of a local. We learned there was little, if any, local culture, not even “borrowed” culture. However, there is no denying, that where we lived, it was extremely colorful, and flooded with a cast of characters, most aptly named by our host. . .
There was “the Compound” next door with canopies and tents connecting structures, the “Neighbors Without Borders” whose loud fighting made you feel uncomfortable, there’s the “Taj Mahal” across the street, housing two families and a matriarch, complete with a temple for worship and two bold, uncivilized Dobermans. There were several “firsts” during our stay, like driving the van on the beach, (which we never would have the confidence to do, until the dude next to us rolled down his window to let us know how “wicked” Thor was, then we felt compelled to “prove” it,) we saw a melodrama, complete with cheers and hisses!, and a vaudeville show. . . and then there’s an experience that has haunted my thoughts more than anything else. . . the day I meet Magdalena, whose husband is pulled over, and carted off by ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) right in front of our house. It’ll be a blog for another time!
This town of Grover Beach was on-the-map enough, to host The English Beat at their annual street fair. In case you can’t recall. . . Save it For Later, Mirror in the Bathroom, I Confess, Tears of a Clown?? Yup, enough dance music to make even the Woody’s of the world get up and boogie!!
So, as we pull away from Grover, I’m moved by emotion. Wow!! I didn’t even see that coming. . . might have something to do with overcoming the fear of toe wounds and their dressing. BUT, in the meantime, we are heading to familiar territory:
I decided that my draw to Jalama is because this is what I imagine camping in the Yucatan Peninsula to be like. That’s something I’ve always wanted to do – I think Jalama’s got to be the next best thing.