What a gem is Remanso Beach!
I’d never been here before, even though it’s the beach just to the south of San Juan del Sur. It’s a small pocket beach with a couple of restaurants, surfboard rentals, a few homes, and an abandoned hotel/resort with a fascinating line up of mostly human-esque sculptures.
Today the pelicans were going crazy, dive dive diving at one end of the beach.
And a handful of surfers were riding the waves before flying backwards into the foam like acrobats as their boards shot out from underneath them. That doesn’t hurt? I wondered. And yet, the ride must be so amazing!
I sipped my beer in a glass with ice. And ate a delicious fillet of Dorado covered in garlic.
The sky was a brilliant blue, so welcomed after months of rain-laden clouds. The air was unnoticeable, meaning I don’t think I was sweating as I sat in the shade below a palapa.
In places such as this, the world melts away. You try to hold conversations with friends because there’s so much you want to know, to share, to learn, but the words disappear and you just stare.
At the sea glistening. At the pelicans diving. At the senior surfer who keeps getting up on his board and riding those waves. (You root for him. Yes, you root for him.)
At the young boy who seems to be getting lessons from his dad and who will remember this day with his dad and the sun and the waves forever. And the young man. Is he bouncing on his board as he rides the wave before suddenly spinning it in the opposite direction?
The waves. The birds. The green jungle. The sun. The palapa shade. The cold beer and fresh fish.
The friends; all of us silent; all of us staring.
This is why I live in Nicaragua: For the world to so astound me (and on such a regular basis) that my chatterbox mind goes silent and I just witness, feel and breathe.
