Cliff, Aura and Christian enjoy beer, sunsets, medium sized walks and games of dice. Its the weekend here and we currently have neighbours. The family next to us are expats from Arizona, living in Managua. Why? I didn't ask, but if I were to guess, it would be they enjoy moving from one shithole to another?!

We have rented an old ass LandCruiser, and surfboards for the month. Our ride is a funky ole jalopy that rattles, emits the filthiest of dirty exhaust and will climb anything. Yesterday we visited a beach a few kilometers to the north; Playa Yankee. Tis a fun drive to get to this secluded, white sand beach with primo waves. Alas we were unable to surf because our trusty vehicle ended up being not so trusty. We parked the rig, then were asked to move it by the local gun-toting Nico. No worries, we can drive and park this sucker anywhere! I hop in and turn the ignition, and the key just spins! Trouble. Waves are breaking, people are surfing, good times abound and all we can think about is "Shit we're going to have to walk out of here in the late afternoon, with flipflops and surfboards!". Thankfully a fellow from Vermont and a pickup full of surfer dudes pull up. Everyone loves a redneck moment, so within seconds the hood is popped and the inspection begins. After much diagnostic talk, the only remedy is too pull the rig up the steep ass hill, release it, then pop the clutch. Voila! Houston we have ignition! So while Christian kept his foot on the gas Aura and I reloaded the surfboards and we peeled out of there pronto-pronto! We arrived back at the pad, called Irish John, told him what the deal was and he drove out from San Juan del Sur, with his mechanic, who apparently likes to fix shit with duct tape, zip ties and paint. They had to tow the rig back to town for further zip tying!

No worries for us though, because @ around 5pm the surf really goes off ! We were happy in the waves, and celebrated our triumphant good luck with our daily rations of rum!