I could see the sunlight defining the borders of the opaque curtain over our verandah doors. Opening the curtain, the blast of orange sunlight filled our room as the top half of the sun sat just above the horizon. Although I felt a bit fuzzy from a late night of drinking many cervezas, I was happy that we did not miss the entire sunrise. I opened the doors, and the cool Caribbean breeze blew the sheer curtains back into the room, waking Ritsuko from her slumber.

"Coffee," she whimpered, one eye half open. I laughed and pulled the sheet over her head as I went into the bathroom to brew a pot of coffee.

We sat on the edge of the bed, having our wakeup cup of coffee as the sun shone brightly on the glimmering sea, while the pelicans made their morning fishing run over Playa Media Luna. Slowly, we got dressed and made our way up to M&J. Moving a little slower this morning, we were not the first customers, as we had been so often during the past week.

Breakfast was delicious as always. The sun beat down fiercely on Isla this morning. It was getting hot, but the shade of the umbrella at our table and the cool breeze off the sea kept us comfortable as we ate, and frigate birds hung almost motionless over the rocky shore, suspended in the wind. As we sat there having another delicious glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, Ritsuko and I decided that since this was our last full day on Isla, we would spend the entire day at the beach.

This morning, on our way to Playa Norte, we stopped in the office of Maria del Mar, picked up a brochure, and asked if we could walk through the property to check it out. After looking at the prices, the hotel grounds and rooms, and given it's proximity to our favorite spot on the beach, we decided that this would be where we would stay on our next visit.

Walking through the hotel gate onto the beach under the palms, I felt again transformed as I do every time I step onto this lovely beach. We laid out our sheets on the beach and relaxed under the sun.

Time was moving ever so slowly; it was one of those rare coincidences when you want time to stand still, and it actually does; thus the dream continued. At least it often seems as though I am in a dream when sitting on Playa Norte. My heartbeat and breathing slows to the rhythm of the sea, and I am at peace. The long morning transforms into mid day, and we seek refuge from the intense sun under the palms. I become aware of the fact that more people have gathered on the beach; it is a gentle crowd ... everyone seemingly passing the day in almost silent bliss.

A group of 20ish young people had congregated under the palms next to the old broken seesaw. From them we could hear occasional laughter and voices in several languages, proving that friendship can transcend cultural and language barriers.

A French speaking family had sat on a blanket under the tree next to us, a man and wife with two teenagers and two younger children.

A young local girl stopped to sell Ritsuko some tiny "bobbing head" animals. Ritsuko wanted me to look at the girl's wares and asked, "which ones should I buy?"

Being half asleep, I mumbled "why don't you buy them all," without looking up.

Suddenly, I found myself surrounded by a display of about 25 or so little bobbing head animals. The children of the family next to us had come over by now and were laughing in delight at the bobbing head animal theatre that Ritsuko was directing for them with the animals bobbing their heads and talking to each other.

The teenagers spoke both French and English, while the younger children apparently spoke mostly French. As they introduced themselves, Ritsuko wrote each of their names for them in katakana.

I looked over at their father and exchanged smiles. The family, I learned from talking with the father, was from Montreal, and they were sailing around the world. At that time, they were about 2 months out of Montreal, and they had stopped on Isla for restocking the boat and to spend few days on dry land. What an adventure, I thought to myself. That is only something that I would dream of doing, and these people were actually doing it.

By now, it was later in the afternoon, and having eaten only a light lunch at Buho's at noon, we were getting hungry. We gathered our sheets, towels, sunscreen, and water, packed them into my our backpacks, and walked down to the Sunset Bar and Grille. It was nice to sit in the shade of the palapa while we drank a few cervezas and ate a plate of nachos. I could see that there was to be a band at Sunset that evening, and Kevin had told me the night before that this had become their favorite place to sit and watch the sunset. On another evening, perhaps we would have stayed there for the sunset, but this was to be our last Isla sunset this trip, and we just wanted to sit in the sand by the water.

Making our way down the beach toward Buho's we saw Kevin and Sharon, who were headed for the Sunset Grille.. Kevin grinned from ear to ear as he showed us the "barracuda coin" mounted on a chain around his neck. We talked for a while, and then said our good-byes, promising to meet again in Iowa that summer at the Mississippi Valley Blues Fest.

We walked to a place at the water's edge where the two of us could sit alone. We sat in the sand, while digging our toes in the soft Isla sand, and waiting for the evening light show of sunset. Ritsuko giggled as I carved a big goofy face in the sand with my feet. The face looked up at us and smiled as the burst of colors in the western sky appeared and then slowly faded into night.

Silently, contentedly, we walked, hand in hand, back to Secreto and slept.