Up early, go for walk and morning swim (there’s something about the ocean, there’s something about that water…), breakfast and talk with Italians about travel plans for Punta Gallinas, settle up with hostel, hot and sunny, taxi to Uribia is not long, terrain becomes harsh, desert, lack of resources, windblown trash (plastic bags and bottles) stuck in pockets of scorched bushes and trees, people selling gasoline and beers all along the roads (it’s a different hustle up here), get to Uribia it reminds me of the crowded street scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark but grasping at modernity with impoverished hands, hop in truck with random guy going to Cabo de la Vela and spend an hour or so crossing sand and heat.
Arrive in Cabo de la Vela, truck drops us off at hostel, beautiful water right out front, eat lunch (fish and rice), drink beers, swim, nap, walk down beach, Cabo is essentially a series of shacks along the beach in the form of a small, weather-beaten village, watch sunset and go for another walk, hang out with four Swiss travelers (three of which speak perfect English and Spanish… what the fuck is wrong with our education system in the states?).
Around nine o’clock I’m in my hammock and become feverish and then ill, wake Jamie up and try to take a pill for my stomach, hands and arms shaking violently and I’m having trouble standing, shit and puke simultaneously for four hours, we have no water, Jamie wakes up people to ask them for water and the Swiss couple discovers that one of their packs has been stolen, I’d care more but I’m puking into a plastic bag that’s leaking on my feet and my intestines are exploding out my asshole, Jamie walks and talks with a leader of the village who tells him that’s the fourteenth bag stolen from a traveler at that hostel and tells us that the guy who runs it is thief, I’m delirious, finally pass out at five in the morning.
Feed the good wolf... 