We assumed that the rough part of the trip was now behind us. You know what they say about assuming. That second day wasn't too bad. We enjoyed touring this small town that went quickly from tourist-filled areas into off-the-beaten-path locations. Once the sun had set, it was time to explore the bars; we are from Louisiana. The only downfall of the day was courtesy of yours truly. Chris had decided to make sure Kelli didn't feel like a third wheel. While he was successful, he made the fatal mistake of making me feel like one. Unfortunately, he didn't hear when the bartender asked if I was his sister; that small question sent my crazy lady brain into overdrive. The proper response would have been to pull him aside and let him know how I felt. Like many of my fellow people who were told to suck it up and get over it as children, I buried it because I didn't want to bother anyone. Several drinks later and back at the air BnB, you can tell I am unhappy.

When do I choose to bring it up finally? Bedtime. Why do I do this? Is it because I feel safe at that time? Or am I some secretly maniacal being that waits until my prey is naked and weak, knowing my chances of being the victor are now strong? I wake up, of course, still upset but not hungover like my travel companions; thank you, genetics, for not letting me like hard liquor. I grab my headphones and a good book and go out to explore solo. Sayulita is a grab bag of surprises. I would not have expected pastries and good coffee, but there it was. A cute little french pastry shop with cafe tables to watch the street come alive with people. After hours and miles later, I have found my rational brain and realize I am being ridiculous and head back to see two of my favorite people. It is amazing what happens when I walk away and let myself think. Why would it upset me that two people I love to be around would love to be around each other? I am damn lucky, primarily that they will deal with this overthinking ass.

In a better headspace and determined to enjoy this trip, we came up with a plan for the day. Sayulita has slowly grown into a popular tourist location, meaning its main beaches are crowded. Not only are you blanket to blanket with other visitors, but the locals selling goods are also coming up to you every 5 minutes. While I appreciated the hustle, I couldn't possibly buy everything, and my throat was dry from saying "No, Gracias" repeatedly. Luckily Chris had a dear friend that knew the spots we would enjoy.

First, he tells me to go to Los Muertos; now, I know enough Spanish to know it means the dead. The beach of the dead, I am so in. It did not disappoint. You have to travel through a bougie resort to get there, but it is worth it. You travel past a gentle hill that is also a graveyard. Mexico does not bury their dead as we do. The graves were works of art. With so many beautiful tributes to loved ones who have passed. You must do the walk through the graveyard; it will be something you will remember forever. The beach is smaller and less crowded. Unfortunately not wholly remote and vendor-free, but a lot less than the main beach.

Once we make the mistake of ordering American food and buying too many blankets, we decide it's time to move on to the next spot, which is even more remote. Carricitos is a beach only accessed by foot and a bit of a hike. Carricitos was my all-time favorite beach. You hike down this dirt bath with graffiti-covered abandoned buildings to walk through an arch of trees as you walk through this pristine beach that appears before you. Only a couple of other souls are there. I can't tell you exactly how to get there, but what would be the fun in that? Finding it is part of the adventure.

As the sun sets, we head back. This is it; we have got there a stress-free vacation. We had no idea how wrong we were. Things were about to turn. A fast and furious turn that would lead to a soldier being left behind.