ChrisJenTravel.com – Honeymoon Trek

We headed back to Troncones, a small beach town that was supposed to have many surrounding surf breaks. We pulled in as the sun was just beginning to set and began the ritual of shopping around for a place to stay the night. This time, we were surprised to see wall after wall, lining the dirt road. The walls encompassed what looked like huge houses or small, exotic hotels on the ocean. We walked into one and quickly found out that the small town had really just become an extension of California. Expatriates’ homes and hotels lined the dirt road and blocked the main beach access with their overly extensive and overly priced properties. The rates were way too high, so we moved across the street. This time, we walked into the main sport bar and office of a pretty large hotel-looking building. We were hit in the face with a smoke filled room and were greeted by a raspy voiced, rough blond lady who quickly raved about the place and quickly told us that there were no cheaper places in town. We doubted it.

Without warning, a loud, sloppy, trashy wanna-be retired rock star Expatriate came stumbling into the room. He was drunk and completely obnoxious and he was the owner. Imagine the most obnoxious Daytona Bike Fest participant: beer gut hanging a yard over his shorts, greasy long hair, and covered in bad, cheap tattoos. We tried to communicate with him. We tried to negotiate. It was obvious that the hotel was pretty unoccupied. He told us that the price was 400 pesos (a little less than $40). Non-negotiable. We told him thanks and we would be on our way, when he absolutely insisted that we see a room. So, after 15 minutes of watching him fumble and re-learn how to use a key and light switch, scream and curse at the Mexican family who “run his place” (including a young boy), and after watching him literally throw keys at them, we saw a room just to appease him. We managed to escape as he was revving up the karaoke machine and the electric guitars. Bummer. Even if it was dark, we couldn’t imagine giving the arrogant guy a dime. We were in a quaint, small beach town and were very safe, but its always more difficult to find a place to stay when its dark.

We pulled up to what looked like a nice restaurant on the beach and a tiny cluster of about 4 hotel rooms. For about half of what the red neck tyrant was asking for, we got a room with a floor fan and a bathroom…it worked for us. We lied down in the sweltering heat and eventually fell asleep thinking cool thoughts.

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