Carlos Don't Surf
On the volcanic beaches west of La Libertad, El Salvador, stray dogs saunter up to the open-front restaurants and sorrowfully flop their heads into the laps of diners; stray cats blink, purr, and mew under the tables. The patrons here, mostly young surfers and backpackers from the United States and Europe (as well as a few middle-class weekenders from San Salvador), are happy to oblige with morsels of food. Bob Marley tunes play endlessly on cafe sound systems, and bottles of locally brewed Pilsener beer come cold and cheap. It's a nice little vibe, and at times both the travelers and the strays look genuinely stunned by their good fortune.
No comments:
Post a Comment