The air smells salty, fresh and is sentenced with an undistinguished taste of adventure. Some silver glitter sprinkles all over the bay behind a narrow line of palm trees. The beach on Isla Colón is just a stone throw apart from the open car window I am sitting at. On the other side shadows of a the deep jungle, black and gray, seem hostile and inviting at the same time this night. It feels almost like a call to venture into the woods. – But such undertaking will better be done at daylight than tonight.
Our taxi makes a slow progress along the dirt road that winds north along the shore from Playa Bluff. As usual the trade winds have become more intense over the day and are now on their nightly decline. On the other side of the island Paulinchen is well protected from them at her anchor.
Even in the car the sound of huge waves breaking over the large reef north of the Islands overtones the rumbling of overstretched dampers and a niggling engine. Nobody speaks much. Less because of the late time, more because we all wander back and fourth through the last couple of hours and the impressions on the beach that we just left behind. Weiterlesen