Make no mistake, travel is all about the people — the people you came with and those you’ll meet along the way. But the beach. Good goddess, thank you for the beach.
Feeling a bit sick? Get in the sun. Sad that the sociopathic power-hungry political party you voted for lost to the sociopathic power-hungry political party you didn’t vote for? Ride a few waves. Get pummeled by the big ones. Maybe get some water in your ears, maybe stub your toe on a rock or cut it on a shell. It doesn’t matter, you’ll feel better. This is a prescription - chug the whole bottle all at once. I’m a doctor. Refill frequently.
I only give myself permission to drink alcohol in two places - weddings and the beach. Only there does the impending hangover not stand a chance against the joyful embrace of the people and the surroundings.
Normally, I would hate so many things about the beach. The clientele — usually rejected applicants from Love Island. Droves of tourists. Sand all up in my crevices. But somehow I don’t mind those things there. I will roll around in the waves like sandals in a dryer until I’m worn out, dizzy, and battered. That shit is amazing. The snake charmer’s tune to his cobra is as the rhythm of the waves to my smile.
Whenever the time comes on any vacation that I need a break from socializing, museums, or historical sites, I will always, always beam up with excitement upon hearing four of the most beautiful words a human can speak: vamos a la playa.
#puertoescondido
#oaxaca
@kodak
@kodak_shootfilm
#portra400
