Closure at Punta Cometa

Kylie!

After my doctor's appointment on Thursday evening confirming that everything was ok, my feet were not infected, I was healing and recovering well and I could walk on the beach, dance, swim and have fun again, I celebrated with a reggae beach festival party on Friday night. And then Saturday I packed my things, said a FINAL FINAL goodbye to Puerto Escondido and Hostal A La Casa and caught a bus back to Mazunte. All this time I knew that I had to make peace with the place.

So yesterday Kyle - my favourite, geeky chic, funny and brilliant Australian - and I arrived and spent some time walking along the beach. It was strange and a bit scary for me. But I could tell that it was good. We ate an indulgent dinner and as both of us were tired and mighty hungover we crashed out in our hammocks, which were our beds for the night. And what a night's sleep! Our hostel, La Isla, is Mazunte's party hostel so there were people fiesta-ing alongside our hammocks and electro music blaring until 6am. THIS combined with belligirent mosquitos intent on biting me despite the repellent I had doused my body in, combined with the fact I struggle to find my comfort position in hammocks anyway, combined with the most bizarre dreams including one of me being a mother and losing my baby in the sand (WTF?!!!) made for a strange as fuck night. Nevertheless, this morning I awoke at 6am, ironically when they turned OFF the music, and slathered on more mosquito poison and slept til 11am. I now know that I enjoy the IDEA of sleeping in a hammock on a beach more so than actually doing it.

Awake, I spent a lot of time on Mazunte beach just watching. The sea, the shore, the sand, the crabs, the people. Also, FYI - I noticed SIX EFFING LIFEBOATS ON THE SHORE TODAY!!!!!!!!!!! SIX! WHATTHAFUCK?! Where were these boats when I needed them?! And I only wanted ONE! I guess it is because of Semana Santa - the Mexican Easter - and the influx of Mexicans from the cities that they are forced to up the safety factor. But still.

And then I finally managed to pluck up the courage to go back to Punta Cometa. The place of my accident. I walked there alone, it was important. It was a long walk, longer than I remembered. More beautiful though. I got emotional whilst walking to the cliff but told myself I wasn't allowed to cry until I was there. And then finally I got there (the safe, non-risky, non-rocky cliff side) part where people often gather. Noone was around so I was able to speak to the sea in peace. I sat and looked down at the sea where nearly two weeks prior I had fallen. Here I spent nearly three hours. I prayed. To who? I am not sure. To God, to nature, to the sea, to the vultures flying low and circling my head, to the sun's reflection. I thanked everything for that day, for challenging me. For saving me. For blessing me with life. For blessing me with that experience. For my family, my friends, the people I had met travelling, the things I had seen, places I had been, for my life, for my lust for life, for my adventures.

My friend in Mazunte

I stood and outstretched my arms, with the breeze cooling me and the sun warming me and the horizon circling me I felt like I was hugging the world. I breathed in the sea air and confronted my trauma. I laughed and cried and probably looked scarily insane. I put my mind back to March 22nd and relived it in as much detail as possible. It was still scary. I could still see everything vividly. Sense everything in sharp realness and yet surreal out-of-body experience. I could re-feel the adrenaline pumping through my body and my eyes popping out of my skull like they felt like they did that day. I felt strong, reenergised, lucky, grateful and best of all... ALIVE. Closure and confrontation is a beautiful privilege. I am now ready for the next phase of my adventures.

Anetta