Yesterday, I arrived in a very small beach town known as El Transito. It's the type of place where you take a back road followed by another back road. To say it's a bit off the grid is an understatement.
Last night, I fell asleep on a hammock as a hard rain began to fall drenching both me and my makeshift bed. I tried for hours to fall asleep after finding a dry towel only to be awoken by passing chickens, roosters, and firecrackers. I found myself growing cranky questioning my decision to make the trek so far out of Granada.
But the longer I thought about it the greater I felt compelled to rein in my discomfort and dial up my gratitude. How many people get to come to a place like this? I thought as a breathtaking show of lightning lit up the evening sky.
I was exactly where I needed to be and slowly began to appreciate it's the imperfections that make an experience both unique and worthy of a lesson or two.
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