Retrieving Bike Keys and The Full Moon

Yesterday I met Juliana, I swear, she is some sort of good luck charm because it only took one throw of the ball (to which a string was tied) to get that sock down from the tree. The sock had the bikes keys in it— it’s a long story. Juliana has such light and positive energy, she’s excited about everything, and you should have seen her when she got on that bike, she was thrilled! “OMG I have a bike now! I have a bike!” she yelled out as she rode in excitement.

She was a bit discouraged at the thought that we had to get these keys down from the tree, but she said “if you get the keys down I will take you for a drink”. So, with one throw the ball slid right between the branches and the string caught the sock branch, and with a few pulls of the string the sock fell. Thrilled, we unlocked the bikes and rode for the Cafe.

We rode towards Parque Cafe, it’s a Spanish Cafe, sort of hidden away in between some tall buildings. We sat down to a warm night and the orange lights of the dim street lamps. I ordered chicken crockets, a cup of whiskey with a bit of lemon fanta—which went together well. The guy poured me a half glass of whiskey, asking “Quieres mas?”, I said yes, so he poured some more, but now from a freshly opened bottle. Juliana had a beer and a pork burger, “you gotta try the burger, it’s so good!” she said, even before it had arrived. I had a bite, and it was good.

Man… Juliana is so beautiful, there’s something about her, maybe it’s how she wears her clothes in her slender figure, or how she looks at you with those big brown eyes, or the way she laughs at random shit, but you cannot help but fall in love with her ways. Time passed quick, we drank, talked—well she talked most of the time, I just listened, an hour and half went by, it was time to go.

We hug goodbye, she giggles and skits away, “ahhh your fucking breath on my neck! it tickles”, “what are you talking about? it’s just a hug” I laugh, “but you’re breathing on my neck”, “nawwww…”, she give me a suspicious face. Feeling tipsy, I hop on my bike, she on her’s, and we ride away.

I rode towards Huelin beach, a short ride. I locked up the bike and walked around some, the beach mostly empty in it’s darkness. As I got closer to the shore I could hear the the waves crashing with a whoosh, and see the white of the foam swallowed up the water. I could hear a group of French folks singing some songs to the full moon.

I found some wooden tipi umbrellas, all in rows, occupying a large square of the beach. A few people had already made them home for the night. A large tent sat inside, all the way to the right, from which you could hear occasional conversation. And on the other side in the corner a man slept in a lawn chair. Luckily for me, the distance between each umbrella was about 8 feet apart, which meant that I could most likely hang my hammock in between. Each umbrella was supported by a set of lawn chairs, which lay chained to the trunk. I tied the hammock to two trunks, sat in, the hammock hovered a foot above the ground, it would do for the night.

I settled into the hammock, thew my backpack towards my feet and used my hip-bag as a head rest. Trying to relax, I closed my eyes and listened to the waves, they whooshed in and out, I listened to the French people singing their songs, I listened to the beeping of a metal detector nearby. I felt safe here for some reason. The full moon comforted me with it's feminine glow. Maybe it was the full moon that had pulled at me to sleep outdoors this night, to lay my hammock on the beach, and be exposed to it's shine--so bright and so beautiful.