On the path from out tree fort on our way to town.
There is this bird who just hangs out in the backyard restaurant that Emma and I went to almost every day. And you know what, even though I hate when people go traveling and then come back and say 'oh my god, we ate at this place every day, it was so good.' Well, what ever, we were in a tiny fishing village with no roads, no cars no electricity (for some parts). So when we made friends with the women that ran this place we were all about supporting them. Plus, they gave us shots of this mescal moonshine that made me cry in their kitchen. It's no fun being laughed at in a Mexican kitchen by two women at least twice your age as you cry after a shot.
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