Manic mosquitos. Trippy turtles. A psychotic yogini and a violent storm. Wet Birkenstocks. Deadly waves slamming down on black sand. And of course, Pancho, the Pelican, who can still fuel nightmares if I’m not careful.
Ah yes, memories…of a mere 24 hours in Monterrico, Guatemala. Do they light the corner of my mind? Most certainly.
Wondering what the hell happened there, are you? Well, let’s pretend we’re at a hostel or in a bar having a drink and sharing travel tales. Tag–I’m it.