West End and West Wing

Last night we walked into the village of West End, maybe 3/4 of a mile down the beach. The sand is incredibly soft and rock/shell free. Right inside the surf there are sharp little coral bits, inevitable near a living coral reef, but you can walk barefoot in the sand - and everyone does - without having to watch where you're going. This is really the most beautiful beach. So we went into West End for dinner, looking for a highly-recommended place called Pura Vida. Like so many other things here, it's associated with a dive center in some way. We had an extra walk, since we got to the village and remembered that we had left the money in our room, so we had to walk back. No bother. The night air was sweet, the sand was soft, and the walk felt so good.

By the time we got to the restaurant, we were pretty hungry. These fantastic-looking pizzas kept coming out of the kitchen, so we decided to order a pepperoni pizza with onions. Marc had a view of the kitchen, somewhat unfortunately, because he saw the woman who was making our pizza. She had a huge belly and a too-small t-shirt that didn't come near to covering it, and a huge rear end with a red skirt just managing to cover it. Her belly flopped on the table as she rolled out the dough. Glad I didn't see that. And the pizza peel just leaned against the wall like a broom, with the edge on the floor. Glad I didn't see that. But the pizza was delicious. One thing we are enjoying about this place is that for the most part, the other tourists are like us, kind of: older, happy, quiet. No rowdy frat boys and girls getting loud and drunk. There are families with small kids and families with teenagers.

Back to the hotel along the pitch-dark beach, navigating by star light (and the flashlight in my hand). Unless you like to sit in the bar and drink, which we don't, there is nothing really to do after dark unless you entertain yourself. Marc had brought movies and tv episodes to watch on the laptop, so we cuddled in and watched half an episode of West Wing before falling asleep.

Oh, and P.S. What's up with the reputation this place has for mosquitos and sand fleas?! We've experienced much worse mosquitos in Chicago and Texas! I haven't yet met a sand flea, either.