We made it. Mancora is like a tropical island. Palm trees, heat, sun, sand, surf and an odd man in a fluro green pair of tiny speedos - waxed and greased.
We got here yesterday and found ourselves a backpackers onthe beach. Marty inhaled a beer and then disappeared into the surf within half an hour of our arrival. Greg and I lounged and nursed our sunburn at the cafe on the beach front and gazed out at the blue sea. Greg is now also nursing his stomach as all the street food and dodgy water has caught up with him - I understand his pain and am thankful to be rid of it.
A beaming Marty returned and joined me (Greg had gone to sleep) for lunch and some refreshing beverages and then disappeared again to find out about long term rental of surfboards. It was siesta time for me.
Later we checked out the markets and bought a few odds and ends and indulged in some 2-handed 500 and a glass of wine. Marty got attacked by a large black beetle and nearly upended the table.
Ok, not much longer to write but this morning we got up early and went to the beach to find a huge podof dolphins frolicking with the surfers and catching some waves themselves. It was a pretty amazing sight.
Everyone is leaving so I better go.