How to do nothing

How to do nothing? It is harder than it sounds. After taking care of your morning absolutions, perhaps a little coffee and breakfast, maybe a dip in the pool, a quiet contemplation of the incredible view, watching the two banking graceful black buzzards that claim this valley, taking a pass on another paperback, you look at a clock and its only 7:30 AM, according to the sun and the temperature, it should be the middle of the day!
After about 4-5 of days that begin like this you ask yourself, "Is this boredom?" How will we fill out the day in this country? I can start with what I do not want to do. I do not want to ride a zip line, or horseback on the beach, or hike through the jungle to a mediocre waterfall while spraining my ankle on roots that look alive. I do not want to go shopping for groceries in town, I don't mind looking at the hippy ladies but not too closely, I don't want to look at the hippy guys even from far, far away. There is only so much ocean swimming that will serve as an alternative to a real washing. There is only so much Euro tongues one can listen to especially guttural German, sorry Marie Ann, and the old hairy and over weight Euro males in Speedo trunks with their hairy guts hanging over their "goods!" What are they thinking, I don't really want to know !

I am a dud. I want to do nothing and I have tried my best on several occasions to accomplish just that. Then in the deep limbic furrows of my brain the nagging creeps outward and begins to manifest itself first in a lethargic disquiet, past general malaise and then into an antsyness that more often than not ends up in pacing the floors. Now I've got it bad and I must do something, anything. Its jump into the 4x4 and off into town or a restaurant sending a rooster tail of dust along the dirt roads. Try to mellow out. This is a vacation afterall. We are pleased to be going anywhere in spite of the broken AC in the car.
The day before we drove to Playa Garza north of Samara and reaquainted myself with an 18 mile stretch of road that JoAnn reminded me I had said on our last trip that I would never drive again less I suffer kidney failure. Ah yes, it all comes back to me now in jolts. Too late
we are on it now.

Garza beach still was as beautiful and unspoiled as I remembered, but the town such as it is of mostly abandoned courtyards and shacks, is worse than I remember. Still it was nice to take a nap in the car on the beach with all four doors opened.
We decided to proceed another 7 clicks north to the euro surfing town of Guiones and treat ourselves to pastry and ice cream. The heat just about did JoAnn in so we anxiously headed back just to keep moving.
The day before yesterday we tried the highly vaunted El Colibri Argentinian Grill House for some T-bone.
Don't bother.

Through the local realtor we met a local developer who showed us some beautifull hill top sites with views of the bays and beaches. The road up into these hills was the worst so far requiring 4wheel low. It was up in a teak farm. As it turns out the developer with PanAmerican Woods is looking for an architect for general and conceptual design. I prepared him a few sketches on notebook paper and he liked it all so we may be doing something for all the condominium developments planned for their thousands of acres available. He has one ridgetop he wants to show us Thursday from which you can see 7 separate bays. I don't know if we or I can handle the commute but there may be at least some property trade in kind for my services. JoAnn really wants to speck a house down here and maybe get a small condo. We shall see.

Right now its back to the beautiful guest house to fend off boredom once again. I will succeed, perhaps now that I have some sketching to do!

Vaya con Dios muchachos
Antonio