THE CURE FOR COVID IS UP YOUR NOSE
Fortunately, the fear of missing my flight pushed me along just fast enough.When I made it to the terminal an hour later, delirium had set in and my favourite button up shirt was drenched in sweat. It didn’t matter. I was going to Mexico.
This was my first trip south of the border, and my first trip since the COVID pandemic pressed pause on the world at large.We’d planned a month-long excursion, starting with longboards and a contest, and ending with sand bottom pointbreaks and shortboards on the jungle fringes.
At my gate I was reunited with my friends and travel buddies for the next few weeks.Trey Martinho, Sierra Garcia, Mikey Normand, Laney Star, Natalie Marquart, and Cooper White; all friends and skilled longboarders living in Santa Cruz. As we sat waiting to board, we shared our anticipation for the few weeks ahead and delighted in our decision to remove ourselves from the slow, crowded conditions of summer in California.
THE MORNING AIRPORT RUN WAS A SCRAMBLE. MY CHRONIC TRAVEL ANXIETY WEIGHED HEAVILY, EVEN BEFORE I WAS DROPPED OFF LUGGING THREE SHORTBOARDS, A 9’6” LONGBOARD, CAMERA GEAR, AND SUITCASE. UPON ARRIVAL I FOUND THAT I WAS AT A TERMINAL ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE AIRPORT TO THE ONE I NEEDED TO BE. MY EFFORTS TO MAKE UP TIME RESULTED IN A DESPERATE HOBBLE.
At Puerto Vallarta airport in Mexico, we were greeted by a fleet of screaming taxi drivers seeking our business. One offered us all shots of tequila and we decided to go with him.We threw back the shots and met our driver, Oscar, who simply stated his name and remained silent for the rest of the 40-minute journey.
The city we drove through was vibrant and chaotic. Californian-style shopping malls buttressed dilapidated shacks and other structures on the verge of crumbling down. The streets were crowded with old sedans and pick-up trucks, many of which carried over half a dozen men piled into the bed. Oscar weaved through
