Rest day in San Felipe

November 18, 2018

One thing about Mexican towns, or at least this one, is that they are quite noisy, as I found out to my cost when I was woken up at four in the morning. It was the nearby barking dogs that broke through my ear plugs' defences, although the loud music coming from our neighbours and the motorcycle revving its engine outside did their bit to ensure I wasn't getting back to sleep. I gave up on the concept and waited for six a.m. when I had planned to wake up anyway to watch England play Croatia at football. My annoyance at having been woken so early was tempered by seeing England win, and wandering down the street to the nearby bakery further improved the day. I remembered the exciting Mexican bakeries from my previous visits to the country, and I'd told Dea about them, which meant she was quite excited too. What I'd failed to remember was that everything in the bakery would be sweet, which was just excellent in my book, but maybe wasn't exactly what Dea had in mind for breakfast. Regardless, we got ourselves a selection of biscuits and cakes, and in my opinion, breakfast was a tremendous success.

A Mexican breakfast, complete with a bison biscuit!

Most of the rest of the day was a bit of a loss, with my lack of sleep catching up to me and leaving me feeling tired. Still, it wasn't a complete waste and I managed to do some blogging and gave myself a haircut in between complaining about being tired. I haven't paid for a haircut since 2010 and I'm getting pretty confident with the scissors now. Maybe I could make a career as a barber someday.

Late afternoon we wandered down to the seafront again, walking up some steps to a shrine/church thing that overlooks the beach, then heading down once again to soak up the atmosphere on the malecon. Once again we were serenaded by some old drunk guys with guitars as we sat and watched the world go by. Stray dogs ran among the beachgoers and seagulls flapped overhead, cars drove past playing loud music, and an ATV taped to a hang glider passed overhead. Another fine evening in San Felipe.

One shocking thing about Mexico is the poverty and the massive divide between the rich and the poor, as seen by little shacks standing next to fine villas.

Mexican graffiti, possibly written by the Mexican president.

The steps up the hill overlooking the beach.

Dea enjoying a 7-eleven coffee as we sit on the malecon.

A white birdy thing, possibly a seagull. Bill?

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