2/24/25 Today, I Saw Some Titties!
We got a slow start. I was up early, but was feeling under the weather from fighting this cold. I found some coffee at a spot called Anchor Cafe. I ate a bagel, and did my writing. That coffee was tasty, but fucking strong. I cut myself off before I finished my second cut.
Back at my lodging, I sat by the pool and published my writing. Dave found me there around 11:30. He had missed my first text, and was waiting to get up until he got it. We packed up our shit, and headed out for the day. Our plan was to hike up the beach a couple miles to a little town called San Pancho. Our first stop was a “Pharmacy” So, I could get some Pseudoephedrine. Communication was a problem, but we used my Google translate app, and she pushed numbers into a calculator. Then, showed me the display. It was confusing and awkward. After spending damn near 1000 Pesos, I had two boxes of pills. I later realized they were the same product of different brands. They contained Loratadine and Pseudoephedrine. I used to take Loratadine for my allergies. I quite because it gave me nose bleeds. I started to feel frustrated, and thought maybe I should try to return them.
Our new plan was just to go down to the beach, and walk around. We headed north towards San Pancho. At the north end of the beach there is a rock out cropping that separates it from another beach. There is a private house you have to walk around. We found some palm trees to sit under. I just happened to have a couple of cans of Modelo Especial in a cold bag, wrapped in a towel, in my day pack. We found a spot for Dave to sit, and I assumed my flat footed “Slavic Squat” resting squat position. I have been working on for 6 years. We discussed our plan, and decided we would try to navigate over the rocks to the next beach. We saw some other folks doing it. I said to David, “You know, I would not mind seeing some tits today.” He suggested on the more secluded beaches, this may be a possibility. I told him, “If you will this to happen, it will happen.”
We started navigating our way over the rocks. I have a trusted pair of Salomon hiking boots. They are not Gore Tex lined and are great for hot weather. They are in my favorite shade of OD green. I have a custom lacing technique I have developed. It locks my heel into the boot. So, there is no slipping to cause blisters. They stay snug, but not too such. David was in slide on sandals with no back strap. That tall mother fucking always out paces me on flat ground. In his fucking sandals, he climbed over those rocks quicker too. I reminded myself I did not need to keep up, and I did not need to take a fall. Getting injured in Mexico would be less than ideal. He would stop and let me catch up. As we made our way onto the second beach. There, about 25 yards away, was an attractive 30-ish lady, with her plump tits out. They were attractive, and she was in the process of covering them up. Though there were others making this hike. I don’t think she expected company.
I have seen tits before. I have seen many of them, at this point in my degenerate life. However, once I have seen one pare. I pretty much want to see the rest of them. I am comfortable with who I am. I enjoy looking at beautiful ladies. I make a point of trying not to stare, or be creepy. However, I am going to take a look.
We continued our walk, and enjoying the beautiful scenery. It was not long, and we were gazing at some very wonderful tits. I would call them mid-sized. Perhaps a B or C cup? I am no expert on this subject matter…. This lady did not seem very bashful. To tell you the truth. If I had tits that beautiful, I would definitely be showing them off. I got a good look before I averted my gaze. She was a fit 30-ish lady. We put some distance between us before we discussed what a lovely pare of breasts that woman was blessed with. Thank you ma’am. You made this creepy little fellow’s day.
At some point. We realized we were probably half way to San Poncho, and might as well finish the walk. We passed another beautiful, naked lady. Soon, we were at another rock cropping that needed to be navigated. There is a mansion on this one, that is in ruins. It belonged to a former Mexican president. The internet tells me someone has purchased this property. Apparently, they have passage laws here, and you are legally allowed to cross it. However, the new owner tries to keep folks off of it. There is a well worn trail to a hole under the fence. Just as we were about off the other edge of the property. We spotted an older Mexican man. He was maybe a couple inches taller than me, but significantly plumper. He was probably 50, and not intimidating. He had an ATV parked, and was just sitting there on a landscaping wall. He did not see us walk up on him. I noticed Dave was aware of this, and put my hand on my keys. So, the would not jingle. We thought perhaps we could just walk passed him, but he spotted us. This man spoke no English, and kept saying the same phrase. We could not understand him. We knew we were in the right, and this was some kind of-a hassle or hustle. So, we played the No hablo Espanol card. We were polite, respectful, and non-confrontational. Dave did most of the talking, and I followed his lead. At some point Dave understood he was trying to get money from us. So, in English Dave politely said, No thank you we don’t need a ride, and we walked off. Dave and I joked about how this man is not even good at his job. If you are going to try to hustle cash from gringos, legally trying to cross a piece of property. Maybe some Eglish language skills would be helpful? Dave suggested, “If he pulled out a handgun, I would have given him money.” Yeah, well I suspect the consequences for armed robbery are much worse than talking folks out of their money. From my internet research. I knew we may encounter a person on the property, but we were legal. This encounter gave us something to banter about for the rest of the day.
And those glories titties….
On our walk, Dave kept in communication with one of his sisters. Sister Chris lives in Bellingham. I have met her a couple of times over the years. She was supposed to me in Vegas with a friend, but at the last minute that friend had to cancel. So, she decided to come join us for a few days in Sayulita. She would be waiting for us when we got back to town.
Soon, we were at San Pancho. We were trying to figure out how to exit the beach into town. We spotted a group of gathered people, and decided to walk closer. We realized they were gathered around something. David reckoned it may be a sea turtle entangled is a net. I offered, “perhaps it is a person?” As we got closer, Dave confirmed it to be a pump white fellow, in his 50s. We saw the speed of the medical professionals. They were not in a hurry to save this man’s life. Pretty sure the fucker was dead. Dave, “probably the heart problems we could all have. What a nice place to pass. I offered, “perhaps he saw a set of dem tittys, and it caused the heat attack?” That is a good way to pass….
We found a beach front restaurant for a Cerza, chips, salsa and Guac. I kept my sunglasses on. They are prescription, and hide my eyes well. I figure this will help prevent me from giving any ladies the creeps.
We made our way into town. Dave instructed me to take the lead. Then, we bantered about not going anywhere. I told him I was indecisive. I think we should just wander around and see the town a bit. Soon, we walked upon a taco stand, with a spit of Al Pastor. It looked well chard, and the flames of the charcoal fire were very low and mostly shielded from the spit. I told Dave we should stop for just one taco. We got our seats, and asked for Modelo Negra. I ordered one taco Al Pastor, Dave ordered one Arrechera (that is what they call skirt steak in this reagoin), and one Al Pastor. While we were there. A gringo came up and ordered 35x tacos Al Pastor, to go. Soon, the spit was fired up, and they were in full production mode. We looked on Google maps while we waited for our check. There was a craft brewery in town that also made organic, sour dough bread. It had a Japanese name, and most of the food had a Japanese influence.
We made out way to Arigato Bake & Brew. I had the session IPA, and Dave had a west coast IPA. Both were quality brews. They were flawless, and tasty. We shared an order of their “Bread, and Spread”. It was toasted house made sour dough, some kinda Miso Butter spread, and a Japanese pickle spread. It was nice, and simple. I do love me some good bread.
Me, “Dave, have you ever seen what long term sun exposure does to skin? I sure appreciated getting to see that lady’s beautiful breasts, but I hope she is careful with them.” Dave, “I love that you are still thinking about that, Ha!”
There was yet another craft beer place in town. It is called Cerveceria Artesanal Our server Meaghan, was really neat. A white girl. I first thought her accent was UK. Dave reckoned Dutch. I thought that was right. She had a cute, girl next door, Dutch look. So, we asked. She was a French speaker from Belgium. She spoke excellent English, Spanish (both the Spanish dialect and Mexican) obviously French and also Dutch. She said she was the least fluent in Dutch. I am guessing she is in her mid to late 20s. She splits time working in Spain, and in Mexico. I gave her a couple of Bellevue Brewing Company stickers, and we purchased a couple of their stickers. I am very envious of this ladies language skills, and I told her so. With the French language, you can communicate with a lot of folks in Africa. English, and Spanish will get you around most all of the rest of the world.
I had an excellent Porter, and a very good Witbier. Dave’s beers were also great. Some kinda IPAs West coast and Tangerine. I think they own the brewery too?
We got an uber back to Sayulita, and found Chris in a restaurant waiting on some food. They only had Pacifico, and Corona. At 5% ABV Corona is too high octane, and is too sweet. Pacifico is also too sweet for my palette, but the lime cuts that nicely. At 4.5% ABV I can drink them all night. I had two, and we headed out. We made our way to a craft beer bar called Sayulita Public house. It had an open air second floor. I ordered a beer from the menu. It was branded as a Pilsner. The fellow brought me a bottle with a label that said Same Laguna, and I poured it into a glass. As I got near the bottom chucks of precipitated proteins came out. This happens to beer as it stales. This beer was a Mexican lager in very poor condition. Some lime helped, but I did not finish it before I just ordered Modelo Especial. I got some nachos and shared them.
We made our way down to the beach. We looked in on an open air bar, to see if they were still open. A fellow saw us, and waived us in. The other kids got Margaritas, but I stuck with yellow beer. We found some padded beach chairs and had a seat. When you have been drinking for half the day. It is important to look out for your safety, and not do anything dangerous. The Pacific Ocean is huge and powerful. However, the part of it we were soon ankle deep in is quite mild… We settled our tab, and made our way back over to the bar we had drank in with the locals the night before. I had a couple more of those cute little 210 mL bottles of Pacifico before calling it a night.
