Tuesday, November 18, 2008

It aint over till its over!



The blog. I almost though I would leave it. All that was left was Marina Del Rey, Newport, Oceanside, San Diego and we were done. That was that. The Twister Adventures were no more. But the passage of time makes so many things happens, it seems history always aiming different events at us. So, instead i find myself oblige, if not propelled to now indulged, if i may say some “twisted adventures”!

I left you in Marina Del Rey were big names like Santa Monica Pier, Malibu, Hollywood and Mulholland Drive were part of the ride. Scott´s sister,Hannah, double the fun. For once, I had some female compagny, someone to chit chat to while Scott´s tackeling the crowd at Malibu surf spot. Dont get me wrong,travelling with your boyfriend is awesome, but dare I say girlfriends are mandatory for what I like to call the 3 ¨S¨ : Shopping, Sanity and most importantly Survival. We sat there, discussing and babbling away while looking at the crowded mess of surfers. Who knew? Maybe Matthew McConaughey could jump out at any second! But no, instead Laird Hamilton seemed to be enjoying some little sunshine himself. Now that´s even better!

On the boat, there was only going to be little ¨hops¨ from now on. Marina Del Rey to Newport Beach, then to Oceanside. Once there, you can smell, see almost touch San Diego you are so near. Oceaside side was great for its surf ( we could paddle over), for its movie (free popcorn on tuesday!!) and yoga (I had to chuckle when they OFFERED me a bottle of water on top of some electrolyte to add in it). And then, we finally arrived in San Diego, our final destination.

Fresh wind on my face and hair reside as we enter the San Diego Marina. I am waiting and expectating exhilaration, some thrill or butterflies about arriving to out last destination. To my surprise, there are no tremors of agitation, no giddiness in my voice, only... a sigh of relief. We are use to thinking that once we´ve reach our goals will be somewhat fulfilled, complete, whole but this could be farther form the truth. At our ages anyways, there is always a mystical thirst for something more.

The Marina in San Diego is at the HYATT Hotel in Mission Bay, and you can bet we take advantage of the gym, pool and hot tub they offer here. We are meeting Scott´s friend Chris tonight and as were are both heading for the showers as i am thinking that a night out-of-town is what we both desperatly need.

Its around 7 pm, I am freshly showered. My hair is done up and make up is to perfection. As I put my marvellous blue scarf (boat version of trying to be fancy), my boyfriend tells me i look very nice tonight, on that thought of his, i consider myself fully ready. I step out first onto the dock ( a tiny victory to be the first one ready). Scott finally gets out and his weight make the puny dock shift. ¨HA!¨. SPLOUCH. Folks- i have fallen off the dock! The next second are blurry as i am push myself up, gasping for air. Now, its one thing to have a nice swim with proper bathing equipement in aqua blue water. It´s another to have fallen into gasoline filth cold water with jeans, scarf, purse, earrings- i mean the whole shabang! Scott quickly pulled me out. I am sitting on the dock now, and I am crying (bawling really). I am not hurt, just terribly embarrased, wet and stupidely mad that I will have to apply make up again. Scott barely had time to catch my drifting flip flops that he is now running to find me a towel (of course all of our towels on the boat are wet or dirty). I am left standing alone, drenched with my pride, swallowing my dignity, gulping my crying hick hops, thinking: ¨it ain´t over till its over young lady!¨. So now, you can comprehend my delighted aprehension on going to Mexico- by plane. This would surely be, as they say, a vacation from our vacation.

Upon our arrival to Mexico, its fuming hot and I find myself fully exposed to a more primitive scenery, one more beautiful and montanous than i ever imagine. After too many Mexican tried to scam us, after getting lost in a disordly city and fearing the policia for getting on our case for misleading some road directions, we are at long last on our way to Todos Santos. Upon arrival, no room is avaible at this surf hotel Scott wants to go (what? we are being spontaneous lately remember!), ¨but my friend has a trailer that can be rented for the night¨ the owner blurts. Scott and I, both look at each other... why not!? Going from a boat to a trailer, now that is one twisted joke if you ask me. After making friends with more than 7 errand dogs, lil annoying flies and one lonely cockroach we just kinda laugh. Apparently, we´re not ready for the real world just yet!

And it ain´t over yet! As I am writing this, my right leg is up on cushion hidden by a huge ski boot (commonly refered to as a air cast) and my crunches are waiting diligently for me on the wall. On our third day here (we have switch to an hotel by now), I got drilled by a wave, something that happened MANY times before, only this time my board frerakishly hit fast and hard my leg. When the Mexicain doctor came back with the x-rays, the visuals was almost too much for my brain to process, my mouth agape in stupefied wonder- how the hell did i manage to do this to myself? Folks, i have fracture my fibula and this will take 6 weeks to heal. At this point I could hit rock bottom, but call me a ´glass half-full´ type of gal, but when things look there absolute worse i still believe that you have a choice.

We´re use to thinking of traveling as good and perfect only when there is no clouds in the skies, no cockroach in our soups or no wind ruining waves. Deep down inside, i know that time transfer awful moments into good memories. Real experience is raw, uncensored and unperfect but aren´t those the ones that stick with you and mold you? And anyways, life ain´t over till it´s over... right?!

p.s: after 2 weeks of not having move my ´derriere´ will somebody remind me to read my own blog. Thanks !!!