The Last Post?

With nothing on the agenda for today, I could easily have slept in this morning. But the day dawned bright and inviting and it seemed a shame to let it go to waste, so I found myself out on the terrace well before eight. Sometime around eleven, Hector, the videographer from Es Artes, swung by with a request to record our feelings about the project. The office is less than a five minute walk down the street, so I took another quick swim to cool off a bit and then we walked over for the interview. Tito played translator and then the three of us drove to Villa Balanza for our last lunch there.

The heat of the day felt particularly brutal today. After lunch we returned directly to the hotel. Mad dog and Englishman, we realized this was our last chance to return home with something beyond our wonderful memories. Tan time. With the quenching water of the pool inches away, we were able to withstand the blast of the sun for short spells. Frank has a thermometer built into his travel alarm and out of curiosity, he brought it outside. In the shade of the patio shelter the temperature was a relatively chilly 99 degrees F. In the sun, we got a reading of 121. Not surprisingly, we now each resemble a ripe tomato balanced on a red pepper. Nothing like a sunburn to make the cramped five hour flight tomorrow as comfortable as possible.

Ed Daranyi and some others from Es Artes arranged a beautiful last supper in the mango courtyard. I counted heads; there were fourteen of us gathered around a table, sharing chicken and vegetables cooked under the stars on a BBQ borrowed from the kind folks at Balanza. Toasts were exhanged, a couple of short speeches were delivered,including an eloquent thank you from the normally quiet and shy Evelyn, office manager for Es Artes. I can think of no more fitting conclusion to our visit to Suchitoto than this memorable evening. Even the moon popped up above the back wall of the courtyard right on cue and quickly climbed the sky, shedding its amber vestments and shining a brilliant white light down through the branches of the mango tree. If ever I make it to heaven, I hope it looks like this.