Living Life, Not Watching It (LA/Mexico 8)

After we got drunk in Ensenada, we went kayaking.  Good plan, huh?

Actually, there was a lot more to it than that, and we had to travel at length to reach the kayak location, so we pretty much sobered up before we hit the sea (since we weren't driving. obviously).

We opted for the minivan ride to the beach, rather than a motorcycle. 

But one of the things I love about travel is how different and how unrestricted everything is.  I can tell you for sure that, had our kayaking trip taken place anywhere in the United States, we would not have been "allowed" on the water that day.  And that would have been a shame.  The seas were rough ~ very rough.  One tandem kayak (not ours!) immediately capsized in the churning surf.  Black clouds hung low as we paddled out into open seas.  But we embarked on an adventure, a journey, not a just a sedate trip strapped to the back of a crusty old tour guide.

We rode roller-coaster waves, soaring on crests then actually hovering in the air as the ocean sank beneath us.  Our paddles snagged in tangles of seaweed that darkened the water around us into a black cesspool.

Nor would any American establishment have let us venture so close to the origin of the blow hole. Waves lashed the rocks mere feet from us.  The ocean dwarfed our tiny boat and pressurized water sprinkled salty rain over our heads.  With such turbulent surf dashing against the walls of the underwater cavern, the blow hole errupted magnificently every few seconds, spouting plumes that soared over the rooftop of the nearby tourist shack, dousing onlookers who waved to us from the safe shoreline.  They gaped at us, down there in the pit of the sea.  It was dangerous, unruly.  But I am tired of being "protected."  I loved every minute of it. 

I have no photos of our excursion to the La Bufadora (the blow hole), because I didn't bring the waterproof camera and with the perilous seas I would take no risk with my normal camera (a good call; every one of us was soaked by afternoon's end.) 

But I found a photo on line that will give you a vague idea of how it was, except when we were there, the skies were darker, the spray higher, the waves rougher and our kayak was closer to the poof! There weren't as many people and there was more seaweed.

I did take a photo of the shore and and the surf and the sea once we returned to the van for our ride back to town.

Comments

[Sharon]

I think one of the best parts about traveling is being able to do things that you wouldn't be allowed to do otherwise. Climbing a volcano (when A and I were in Guatemala) definitely would not have happened here in the States. I'm glad you go to KUI - Kayak under the influence. How funny...I'll have to put that one on my to-do list. ;)