After the previous day’s unlucky stint, we decide to go to a local resort and pay money to use… the beach. Such a strange idea. Beaches are a commodity and if that commodity includes white sand-blue water clichés, people are willing to pay $200-$300 to stay at that place. But we didn’t. We paid $4 dollars. Sweet!
I practically spent the entire day soaking in the sun, drinking some of the best mango shakes in the world and deciding whether their $50 dollar fresh lobsters at the restaurant were a rip off. It definitely was.
Later that night, we head back to my dad’s place. David’s never ridden a motorcycle, and my dad practically was born in one (I remember riding in his motorbikes growing up). David decides to ride one into the night never to be seen again. Just kidding… really.