My next stop was La Bufadora- the Blowhole- situated on a promontory a bit south of Estero Beach. A wonderful fluke of nature, the blowhole was the result of a volcanic tube that caught the tide right. Water rushed in. It became compressed in the narrowing inlet. It then blew out the top in a thrilling and stunning geyser. It was worth the trip to witness that marvelous natural event, as simple as it may have been.
I guess you could say La Bufadora was a village, but that would imply a modest population of sorts. Not the case here. Only a few fishing shacks, a ticket booth, a large parking lot, and the smell of seaweed and decaying fish. And, I should add, a “reception center”—well, sort of. At least it housed several bathrooms for the few tourists the found their way there. Those bathrooms were the first things that caught my eye as I entered.
Seems that my briny soup creation was meandering through the maze of my intestines. It threatened to propel itself out of me in an explosion of ghost shrimp furry.
Time was short.
Time was running out.
I made a quick dash from the car to the bathrooms in hopes that they were empty. With only seconds to spare I entered. I slammed the door shut, and immediately expelled the beast in one furious movement.
I missed.
It was not pretty.
As usual, there was no toilet paper. So, there was no cleaning up as if that were even possible. I opened the door a crack, checked to see if the coast was clear, and headed back to my car for a hasty retreat. It was unfair of me to have abandoned that bathroom in the condition I had left it. But, the whole event was way too much; over my tolerance threshold. So, off I went, acting calm and cool the whole time. Sorry.
With intent and determined focus, I drove back to the main highway and headed north. On the south edge of Ensenada, I took a turn to the right and onto a simpler road and began the long climb to La Rumorosa.
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