When I stepped out of the Turq, now free from sand, I took a deep breath and recalled how lucky we had been. Josh, Dave and I decided to come to playa Concha Bamba on a whim.
It was one of those unplanned detours that define a road trip. Places where even Lonely Planet has not been. Where tourists are aliens to the environment, where Hard Rock Cafes only dream of sprouting. We were amazed with Concha Bamba's desolate nature, away from everything and yet so central to our humanity.
A place where the Pacific Ocean, the Oaxacan countryside, and the cloud-filled sky swerve to a dance choreographed by the moon and the sun.
Thank you El Padrino and the Concha Bamba Pescadores Crew.
Steve Zissou would be proud. If only we had uniforms. http://lifeaquatic.movies.go.com/main.html
As a token of our appreciation, we left them with a nice bottle of Bacardi rum and $200 pesos. The beach turned into an ocean jubilee when they all learned of our gift. Dave asked to be left behind, and Josh and I were really tempted. We had witnessed one of humanity's best moments, when complete strangers come to the rescue of each other for no expected compensation.
Viva Playa Concha Bamba.
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