I saw someone with a hammock stretched up to the sturdy roof of the palapa. “Clever” is what I thought. Tents were everywhere, side by side. People had brought their propane tanks and burners to cook on. I saw little makeshift clothes lines hanging between tents for wet bathing suits and towels.
We were there mid-morning and the smell of bacon and eggs still hung in the air. The day was beautiful and bright, not too hot. People were out playing in the surf with their children, flying kites, playing volleyball and the day was generally getting underway. Teenagers sat in tents or around in groups – some texting, some chatting, and some making googly eyes at the opposite sex. Little kids were digging in the sand or playing in the surf with their parents. Older kids were making sand castles.
We had our two year old son with us and he wandered here and there with no boundaries. When he strayed into someone’s site they would just smile and coo at him and wave. The universal language of family is everywhere here. “You’re here with your child. We like children. We wish you the best.” Is clear even if you don’t speak Spanish.
I find it fascinating that no one here is stressing about Easter dinner. They will have a cook-out on the beach. Supplement what they brought with something from one of the many food huts along the sidewalk. But most of all they will spend it with family and friends and relax and refresh themselves.
I loved the sights, smells, and vibes of a good old fashioned town camp out. I think next year I may just dust off my old tent and join them.