June 29
The guy on the bus signals to me and points out the window: “Puerto Lopez.” It’s dark outside and there are people shoving hostal recommendations in my face. I don’t understand anything they are saying and I continue walking in my sleepy daze, hoping they’ll all leave me alone (and hopefully not get mugged).
I pick the first ok hostal I see, throw my things on the bed and think food. I had been on the bus since 9:45 am and it was now 9:15 pm. There was nothing in my stomach but potato chips and Doritos from the vendors who had hopped on the bus, strolled down the aisles with their basket of snacks and hopped right back off at the next stop.
Puerto Lopez is a quiet town at night and I am lucky to find one restaurant open. There is no menu and everyone has the same plate: 1/4th of chicken (the chickens here are normal size — not US size
), rice, a pinch of lettuce and a few dices of tomato. I point to a plate and sit down on a cold, linoleum chair. I feel guant, in need of a shower, uncomfortable and lost but I’m too exhausted to fix these things. It’s a strange and helpless feeling not being able to communicate my thoughts; at times I feel like a lone alien.
June 30
It’s a new day and I am waking up to the smell of the ocean, the comforting sound of the rolling waves and tiny gritty specs of sand on my skin. I feel the mystery of the oncoming day; the excitement of what I could uncover. Under the cloudy, overcast sky I take a walk around the very small, lazy town. The coast is lined with hut after hut of little juice and alcohol bars and of fresh ceviche. I pass vendors selling dresses, souvenirs, handmade jewelry (where a woman makes my fish tooth necklace as I wait) and all kinds of restaurants. I chat with several locals (there aren’t too many tourists here), drink rum and discover how surprisingly warm the ocean water is.


Ceviche
July 1
I am yet again on another bus but this time to a place called Montañita only 2 hours away — a little surfer town known for their chill vibe, hippie-life and partying. The minute I step off the bus, the vibe rolls through me: the musky sea air, locals strutting around barefoot with their surfboards and dreads, seashell necklaces and hemp bracelets everywhere, music vibrating the small stone streets and something extra that is inexplainable. Friendly, relaxed people, loud music all day and night and performers juggling fire down the street for some evening entertainment — I immediately love this city..




July 8
Still loving it here in Montañita (I’ve already met a few people who never went back home and now live here after one visit — I can see why!) but it’s time to move on to a new city. Heading to Guayaquil for a night then crossing the border to Peru..

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