Black Sheep pub; an English establishment that acts like a time machine in the midst of the jungle. Our early a.m. routine had been interrupted by many beers and more than one gin and tonic. This trip was different than our other adventures, though, as we were staying in a rather nice "surf hotel" some 100 meters from a beach break groomed by offshore winds from sun up till sometime around ten. Crowded after eight, we had decided to surf from first light till our arms expired, and then head back to the house for breakfast. A routine that was working, until today. With only a few hours remaining before our rental was due for return, Chris, Rena, Karissa and I explored the surrounding area, searching for surf, drinking beer at tiny bars and filling the back of our Toyota Fortuner with food and water for the rest of the week.
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