Going Local

On Monday, we drove to the beach, advertised as secluded and pristine. Well, it wasn't neither, but not too bad. The water was not as warm and clear as it was same time of the year in the neighboring Dominican Republic. More like at home in August. The beach facilities, which charged a dollar per person, were of a third world quality. We wanted "local" - we got plenty of it.

Somewhere on the Internet, Max picked up that a toy store at the nearby mall sells a rare edition of some Lego thing. It became his raison d'etre for the whole P.R. trip, so after the beach, craving a bit of civilization, without much fight, we gave in and drove to the mall. When after sitting in traffic for an hour we got there, we didn't find any toy stores. So, we drove around for another hour (including a horrifying "shortcut" through a one-lane mountain road). Then we came back to the same mall - you know, to make sure that the toy store didn't somehow came into being while we were balancing our car on a cliff. The toy store was still not there.

Because going to the same mall twice was not embarrassing enough, on the way home, we stopped by a Wallmart, where we bought some crappy tea and a loaf of Wonderbread. Let's see if we can get any lower.