There’s no denying it’s beautiful here. I went for a drive along the Pacific coast with a friend in his VW Thing yesterday. The goal was to end up at a beach where they release baby turtles. We did find it and paid the 60 pesos each to help (that’s about $5). The problem was that we got there on time at 11am but found out the actual important part, the release, doesn’t happen until 5pm when the sun starts setting. In between there were lots of kid geared activities, face painting and colouring, so we wandered the beach for a bit and then headed home. No swimming on that side for me, thanks, it’s a little rough for my taste. We did see a whale breach, probably a humpback.

A good day.

There’s been rain over the last couple months so it’s really green and lush right now. When I landed I actually wondered if I was at the right airport for a minute. It’s really beautiful and I’m glad I’m here.

Today the sky was perfectly clear, not a cloud anywhere, and the water matched. Blue and smooth. We hiked to the beach and took a well deserved swim. Well, that’s loose, I usually just float and try to clear my head. There’s a cruise ship in the harbor, so that means tourists.

I’m ok, getting better.

Not that it would be hard to find a regular companion here, haha. There are so many middle aged and older men that would love to have their way with me. I know it’s been written about many times before so I’m just adding to that pile (and less eloquently so) but let’s clear up some apparent misconceptions.

I get involuntarily fondled here a lot. Every day and often more than once a day. Yesterday it happened as I was waiting for fresh fruit to be cut up. A man sitting on the curb reached out and stroked my leg and asked if he could see my tattoos. Yes, I said, you can see them but you may not touch them. For real, this has to be said? Two days ago an American man did the same to my arm and then asked if I had tattoos all over, because that is his business, to know where I’m tattooed. Because I exist and he deserves to know. I am public property.

The worst happened the other evening, I’d gone to the local bar to see if anyone I knew was there and wound up standing outside chatting with the waiter. Out comes a man, he looked about 50+, balding, red face, Hawaiian shirt. He says to me in a rueful tone “god, a beautiful girl like you with those tattoos…” Message received, loud and clear, I wrecked my body for you. Oh gosh how I regret it, how I wish he’d saved me from enduring all that pain and spent a ton of money. Now I know I exist merely for his viewing pleasure. I did end up talking to him a bit, I have no pride, ok, and things went from bad to worse. He got very angry when I admitted I had no knowledge of the big fishing tournament that’s on right now. Like I give a shit about fishing. Or Sammy Hagar. Dude finally gave up and walked away, glaring at me the whole time.

TO BE CLEAR: I don’t want your revolting hands on me. I don’t give a flying fuck what your outdated and antiquated opinions on women with tattoos are. You are incredibly rude and in the future I might not be so nice about it. I haven’t decided yet if the next handsy asshole gets a slap or spat upon. I guess that’s up to my own discretion.

It’s not all bad here, of course. I have lots of friends and the city is full of interesting places to explore. I go to the beach every other day and float in the water. I’m practicing head stands because I think that’s a useful skill. I’m reading books again. It’s restful and chill and I’m feeling more like myself every day.