¡Hasta la Proxima Hijas!

What a gem. What a treat. I’ve been lucky enough to spend the last two months living large in paradise. Sure Tulum has paraĺso written all over it by traditional standards: white sandy beaches, warm water, perfect weather, fruity rum drinks, chic resorts, charming culture… but those aren’t the traits that really captivated me. My heart was tugged on from a different angle.

First off, the wind. I didn’t schlep 50 lbs of kiteboarding gear halfway around the globe just to ride a few squalls. I was after reliable wind. I had goals. The wind was cooperative enough to bring a lot of smiles to my face. However, it also played hard to get for a while providing some boredom and anxiety. The wavy water conditions also taught my friends and me a lesson in respecting Mother N. by keeping the kites in the air and out of the shore munch. Or else… I’m not going into details on this one.

But what I’m really, really trying to get at is that I have amazing amigos, new and old. They are the ones who made for the trip of a lifetime. This is why I have this creepy, tingly feeling when I reminisce about where I’ve been. I’m trying to beat back the mushy, sentimental sensation I have welling up inside. My new Tulumian friends were almost uncomfortably welcoming. Way too nice. Thanks guys, everything was too chido, and now I’m going to have to find my way back someday (hopefully soon).

The bad news is that my camera fell victim to a long life of sand and abuse and is refusing to function. Sorry all, I wish I had more photos of crystal clear turquoise water to share.

Funny anecdote to end on. Blaine and my bags both weighed in at exactly 50.0 lbs this morning. I guess were bringing back the maximum allowable weight of sand, grime, and mold.

Signing off here in the Houston Airport. My seven hour layover is coming to an end. I’m diving head first into winter, I’m going to be a human popsicle for the next four and a half months.

¡Hood River, nos vemos manaña!

Oh yeah, Mom, don’t worry, my spanish hasn’t devolved to the point that I’m accidentally calling people daughters. They really use the word hija the way we say dude. It makes no sense at all, I know.