Weekend Escape – Bass Lake

Some friends and I are trying to start a wakeboard team, and as we’ve come to find — the wakeboard crowd is not necessarily the most reliable of folks. From the words of our president we have “between 15 and 65 people on the team.” Basically about 15 people like to ride, and the rest like to clutter the facebook group.

Regardless, a few of us escaped to my family’s lake house up in Bass Lake for the weekend to get a few runs in and have a fun time.

As soon as 4 o’clock rolled around Friday afternoon, I hopped in my Indiana Jonesmobile (aka a white 1997 Jeep Grand Cherokee with gold rims) and made my way up to Glendora to meet up with the rest of my fellow teammates.

True to Indiana Jones, my car does not have air conditioning. And, true to being a summer camp counselor, my face was covered in face paint for “safari day.” Imagine what happened when I got in a car without air conditioning on a hot day + face paint. Melt city, itch. Melt melt city itch. People on the north Interstate 15 were probably staring into my car wondering what disease I obtained and if it’s contagious.

So I finally make it to my friend’s house, and we hook the boat onto his truck. Off we go to pick up two more friends hitching a ride.

In the past, my drive to Bass Lake has taken up to… possibly 6 hours. From San Diego. This time it took us about 8 hours… … … from Los Angeles (that is a long time). Since three of us were on the snowboard team, we’re used to long rides but it was still pretty brutal.

I’d like to note that about an hour of this ride was devoted to letting the BOYS grocery shop for the weekend. We pulled into the grocery store parking lot and after about 20 minutes, the girls remaining in the car were getting pretty restless. I tried to open the door and the car alarm IMMEDIATELY started blaring and the door would not open (every time I moved the lock it would reset itself, giving me a friendly pinch). The boys were probably there for about 20 more minutes and the alarm was only set off one more time.

For about $110 the boys got: ~6 apples, a box of goldfish, three packages of cheese, a pizza+cinnamon stick combo, 18 eggs, a juice box, grapes, spaghetti, sauce, chips, and cheese dip.

I’d like to note that about 75% of the items contained cheese/were straight cheese and that not a single vegetable was purchased. By the time Sunday rolled around I was convinced I was going to get scurvy.

It didn’t help that one of the girls was lactose intolerant.

It also didn’t help that when the boys were wrestling, we heard one literally cut the cheese during the match. Ew.

FINALLY, 3 a.m. comes around and we pull into my driveway. I truly believe the lake feels somewhat magical when you’ve been away from it for a while.

In the morning, we all groggily wake up and put the boat into the water with only a slight delay… the boat had a broken key in the ignition and it wouldn’t turn on. Thankfully, my friend knew how to hotwire it and we were off and running in no time. Like I always say, you can take a USC kid out of the hood… but you can’t take the hood out of a USC kid.

Photo by James Kashyap

After a few nice wakeboard runs, the water began to resemble something of the stormy ocean waters portrayed in Moby Dick. I was expecting Ashton Kutcher to come down and grab me at any moment like he rescued his mentor in the Guardian, but he must have been busy or something because that didn’t happen.

Oh stormy waters…

Myself, Hadeel and Bianca all relaxing on the lake.

My friend who can hot-wire a boat also built this contraption… basically a boogie board with a wakeboard fin put on it courtesy of our friend’s girlfriend’s wakeboard.

Ian surfing boogie style.

James, inventor of the boogie surfboard wakeboard.

…cue the hood comment about a USC kid. And contrary to what this surf/boogie board might make you believe, he is not an engineering major.

Definitely a natural!

Bianca got the surfer spirit award!

We weighted the boat with a large fat sack, two smaller ones, and 4 kids pumped with cheese (the weight gain was intentional so that we could have a better wakesurfing wave of course!) and hilarity ensued. It felt like riding a piece of plywood and I faceplanted enough times to clear out my sinuses (which, are full of junk by the way… it happens when you’re a summer camp counselor and children sneeze in your mouth on the regular).

Our friend Ian also decided if you can ride a boogieboard, why not try riding an oar as well?

No such luck.

We pulled into a cove and decided to relax after these shenanegains and were confronted by blood thirsty geese. The geese camouflaged themselves as cute, innocent, obese ducks so we threw them some crackers. After we were done giving them crackers, they had a crazy look in their eyes — like the mask from the Saw movies. They even started drooling!!! They walked closer and closer while hissing and drooling while the ducks in the background calmly chilled. The geese were angry and wanted blood… or crackers. Eventually they found another victim  family down the cove and were fed red licorice (I’m not sure that red licorice is the best choice of food for a goose?). Then they began hissing at their new family and a girl started throwing rocks at the geese (and actually hitting them).

I don’t like geese, but I abhor mean kids. Doesn’t she know that striking animals is the first signal that a kid is going to grow up to be a serial killer?! I couldn’t hide my camp counselor side any longer and yelled at the possibly sociopathic girl, “Hey! No! That’s mean, stop throwing rocks and leave them alone!” I think I legitimately scared her more than the geese scared me.

That’s right. Chantae Reden, goose savior… movie coming summer 2015.

Geese Savers

After the cove, we meandered back to the house and hopped in the hot tub. Then the spaghetti and pizza… and cinnamon sticks were cooked. James ate about 50% of the cinnamon sticks before anyone else got one… we hope he gets cavities. I don’t think any of us have ever had that many carbs in one sitting -____________- nor will I ever want to again.

In a lethargic stupor, we decided that going for a night swim would be a brilliant idea… but the excursion soon turned into a photoshoot with only one person actually jumping into the water.

We look fairly dry considering we were intending to go on a night swim!

The next morning we rose early to get some good wakeboarding in — unfortunately my camera had died at this point and I brilliantly forgot to bring my charger. But trust me, it was awesome. Bianca stood up on her fourth try for the first time ever! We relaxed for a bit on an island in a cove and befriended a cute duck. Ducks are so much nicer than geese, by the way. Ducks are definitely the hippies of the world. Geese are like swamp gangsters.

Unfortunately, our short trip had come to an end and we all made it back to LA in one piece (miraculously). I’m not too sad though, because Bianca and I will be back here for a week next week :)

Bye Bass Lake!!!

Tips On Making Your Life More Spontaneous (and why I hate cliches)

This post started out as a few pieces of advice on how to make your life more spontaneous but quickly turned into tangent rant about cliches. If you wish to read about spontaneity, please scroll down quickly towards the second half of the post. If you wish to read about why I hate cliches, read on.

It is said that it’s the little things in life that count — a phrase I don’t wholeheartedly subscribe to, but I believe that it applies in the case of spontaneity. In general, I’m not a fan of cliches and popular sayings since I don’t always agree with most of them, and some of them seem to contradict each other.

Take for instance when you’re wondering whether to text that your crush who barely knows you exist… do you follow “absence makes the heart grow fonder?” or “out of sight, out of mind” cliche? Those who try to play hard to get will subscribe to the first cliche, hoping that their victim lover will miss them in the absence. Those who are fear driven stalkers will subscribe to the second cliche and make sure that they are never out of sight and therefore never out of their victim’s lover’s mind. There’s a catchphrase for everyone and every contradictory theory if you look hard enough.

These three cliches really grind my gears annoy me the most:

• Great minds think alike. This isn’t even true. All the greatest minds are considered great because they DIDN’T think alike, that’s why they were innovative! Einstein, Voltaire, and Darwin all thought differently than most everyone else. Minds thinking alike is usually a symptom of low intelligence and a component of the negative aspects of humanity. Ex., WWII, racism, people who watch Jersey Shore.
• What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Maybe this is true for Kanye and Kelly Clarkson — who both have songs about this cliche, and emphasize my above statement about “great minds thinking alike” — it is not true for many people. What doesn’t kill you can sometimes make you depressed, debilitated, delusional, etc. Yet people still seem to chant this way through hard times as if it were a fact.
• It is what it is. Is this phrase ever helpful? I understand the sentiment is about acceptance, but when people say this to me I can only respond with a blank stare.  Muy unsatisfying.

Now that this is out of my system, let’s carry on with the original point of this post, shall we? *Cheerleader clap*

How To Be More Spontaneous

It’s important to do something small everyday that gets your out of your predictable routine so that when you have an opportunity to be largely spontaneous, it won’t feel so foreign.

• Keep a journal. Note that there is a big difference between a journal and a diary. Diaries bring to mind pictures of poets weeping over ink splotched pages of emotion. Journals bring to mind adventure and excitement. Keeping a journal helps hold you accountable for your day if you commit to writing in it regularly. It’s easier to follow through with an uninhibited spontaneous thought if you have some accountability! I am absolutely terrified of becoming old and senile, and reading back on my journals thinking, “wow. I was so boring!” Nobody likes a boring book, and nobody wants a boring life. Do not let your old and senile future self down! Make sure that you have something interesting to write about every day! Luckily, I have made journaling a habit and can even share with you a small entry,

   June 3, 1998. Age 7 
“Last week Kylie and I dumped a box of sugar on the bathroom floor before we went on vacation to Lake Pal. Today when we got back there was lots of ants a hole colony. The floor was black with ants. We saw three queen ants and they were in the sink to. Dad said he never seen so many ants in his hole life. Kylie is growing crystals in the backyard but some of them got moldy so we threw them over the fence.”

• 

  I was into ants before A Bug’s Life came out. A young insect hipster.

Now doesn’t that sound like a great day? Dumping sugar on the floor, though not advised, is indeed spontaneous and I remember this day fondly (unlike my dad who spent who knows how long trying to rid his home of our new ant invaders).

• Talk to strangers. I know, I know. This tip alerts your 5 year old self into STRANGER DANGER mode! Meeting new people forces you to go outside your typical self (the side you let come out around your friends) and every new person you meet carries the potential for new adventures. You never know who someone really is unless you make an effort to talk to them — these new people might have interesting things to share with you or invite you to, and that will open the doors for more activities. If the person turns out to be absolutely nutters, that will give you something to write about in your journal!
  

• Sign up for events–even if you don’t know what it is. This is also my number one piece of advice for freshman in college. If you sign up for something you don’t usually do (like vinnasnsmamamasasa yoga), you might hate it, or you might love it. Even if you hate it, you’re still likely to meet people who hate it as well and you can bond over your loathing of whatever you’re doing. This is actually how I met my best friend (love you Chelsea!) — we met at an informational meeting about an academic fraternity and decided that it wasn’t for us. Even though signing up for something new did not turn me into greek geek, I still was able to meet my best friend and had a positive experience from it.Some notable positive experiences: joining an ultimate frisbee team–team DTF–Down To Frisbee, skydiving, hip hop class, bungee jumping in Costa Rica, a tour of a coffee plantation.Some notable… less positive experiences: Spin class, yoga–the only good part is nap time at the end, salsa lessons (took place in a basement with a 10:1 guy to girl ratio, imagine being a dog treat thrown into a pack of unbathed wolves).
• Start taking “weird” as a compliment. Even though my days of highlighter colored eyeshadow, sharply layered black hair, and my screamo filled iPod are all left back in 2004, people still call me weird. I’ve come to accept that being “weird” is not only a characteristic of certain social groups, but its a classification of behavior as well. Sometimes weird can mean creepy, but most of the time weird means different. I challenge you to start embracing the ‘different’ definition of weird — and this means doing things that are outside of what most people would do normally. Don’t inhibit yourself because you fear what others may think. A tactic of mine is wearing extremely fashionable outerwear in formal places. Ex.,

Wearing superhero clothing to the gym. Note: Batman in the mirror.

Getting decked out for a Fuel TV party in Mammoth

Self explanatory.

Dressing classy for our formal invite in Vegas. One of my fellow LMFAO bandmates is lurking in the background.

Don’t let the outfits fool you–neither of us eat meat (or kill animals)!

I think you probably get the idea. The outfit makes the man… I kid, I kid (I dislike cliches, remember?)

Weird should now be synonymous with interesting.

• Lastly, learn to forget about planning. Obviously there are times when planning is necessary, but in your free time, be sure to go somewhere new and simply wander around. This is stress free tactic that allows you to do anything interesting that pops up in your adventure!

Wandering into the rafters of the Marquee, Las Vegas! A spontaneous act that promptly shut the club down and got me blacklisted.

And there you have it, small steps to a more spontaneous life!

The Best Free Things to do in San Diego this Summer

It’s a rough life living in San Diego during the summer. So many beautiful beaches to choose from, not enough time to go — especially if you count the days spent locked indoors recovering from the latest 3rd degree sunburn while you cross your fingers and pray, “Please don’t peel! Please don’t peel!”

For the days and nights you do make it out, consider going to these first-hand verified as insanely awesome places. You won’t regret it, scout’s honor.

1. Stroll through the Self Realization and Meditation Gardens in Encinitas. Located on the cliffs of Encinitas is a wonderful sanctuary-like garden that overlooks the ocean. It’s hidden behind the Aladdin looking structure near Swamis. There are shady trees to sit under surrounded by flowers and ponds with koi fish. The perfect day would be stopping for a bite to eat at Swami’s Cafe (a personal favorite restaurant–get the acai bowl or falafel pita!) and walking a short few blocks to the Self Realization Gardens.  Followed by a nice swim or evening surf session at Swamis, the local surf break.

View from one of the benches at the Self Realization Garden

2. Go on a Night Hike. There’s something exciting about exploring trails (even if they are the beaten ones) at night… it feels safari like, despite the fact that San Diego’s largest predators are rattlesnakes and coyotes. There’s a trail in Westwood that leads to a waterfall off of Lake Hodges, and it was the nightly go-to activity for me and my friends until druggies got wind of it and my friends and I had to compete with the druggies for space on the rock overlooking the waterfall.

The human imagination goes wild in the dark, every creak becomes amplified and every twig snap surely was broken by something terrifying. In my mind, the waterfall in Westwood was about 30 feet tall, soaring rapids, surrounded by greenery equivalent to something you’d see in Avatar. It wasn’t until a few years after my first night hike to this spot that I saw it for what it was — a swamp covered in trash and graffiti with a sludgy waterfall drooling off the rock.

I was practically heartbroken! This summer, pick a path you’ve never done before and try to maneuver it at night. I highly recommend the Torrey Pines Bluffs (which may or may not have a rule about going on the trail after sunset… though I’ve never seen it enforced… but I’m not condoning you hike it ;) ) because it is a spectacular experience during the day as well as at night (not that I would ever break the after sunset rule of course!).

My perception during a night hike

& I won’t spoil you with a photo of the reality :)

View from Torrey Pines Bluffs. (Photo Source)

3. Grab some snorkel gear and explore the La Jolla Caves. Oh look! A wild Garibaldi! I love snorkeling through the La Jolla Caves and seeing all the cool native marine life — even if I know the names of only a handful of them. If you were a fan of exploring tide pools as a kid, you will be in heaven doing this. You’ll even get a chance to swim by some sea lions! Just resist the urge to pet them because they don’t always come across as the most friendly of creatures, despite how funny they look. There is one cave that has what looks like the end of the pier inside of it. Climb onto the pier and explore up the stairs! The stairs go into pitch black darkness and rumors say that at the top, a door opens to a shop located downtown La Jolla! It seems I’ve only ever been when the shop was closed because the door has been locked each time I’ve gone. Regardless, it is an amazing local adventure that everyone should try at least once — especially if you have a brave friend to lead the way through the dripping, Indiana Jones-like stairs (Thanks Jimmy!).

A few pieces of advice for the caves — go when it is low tide, only enter in between wave sets, wetsuits help against sharp rocks, and beware of the pigeons that live in the caves — they are like rats with wings!

Start out at La Jolla Cove and swim to the right if you are facing the ocean.

Photo Source

4. Throw a Bonfire at the Beach. Ahh, the title of this next stop reminds me of my middle school days of eating black carcinogen filled burnt marshmellows. My mouth is watering at the mere thought. Fire pits are easily reserved at Moonlight Beach or La Jolla Shores easily on a weeknight, but head to the beach early if you want to snag one on the weekend. Create memories by having a flaming marshmallow contest by seeing who can get the farthest trajectory on a thrown flaming marshmallow before the flame burns out! (Kidding, I do not condone this after stepping on 5 too many still flaming marshmallows — fusing sand, marshmallow, and skin together) Hotdogs are always a good choice as well and remember not to leave your shoes against the firepit! Can you tell I’ve had a lot of “fusing” experiences at the beach?

Believe it or not, my family and I made this bonfire ourselves–though not in San Diego. That would probably be illegal. I’m second from the left :)

5. Go for a bike ride in Coronado! Having a bike will dictate whether this will be a truly free activity for you, but surely you have friends who owe you a favor or seven? Roller blading, skateboarding, and walking are all great modes of transportation around Coronado. Just be sure you cross the bridge in your car and not on foot, or you might have a good Samaritan stop and ask if you are feeling suicidal (not kidding).

A great bonus will be to hike the Coronado beach mounds and try to see what it spells! I didn’t realize what they spelled until a good friend told me… perhaps spelling isn’t my strong suit? Have you been able to comprehend this post?

Pssst, here’s a hint as to what the mounds spell! (Photo Courtesy of GoogleEarth)

And the skyline of downtown at night can be quite romantic!

Stay tuned for my next series of more budget-friendly activities! What are your favorite free things to do?

How to Avoid Getting Scammed by a Taxi Driver

I hate being blatantly ripped off. I absolutely hate it. While traveling a few blocks in Costa Rica around San Jose via taxi, a ride I’ve done many times before, my driver’s meter “suddenly stopped working.” He charged me over 10x what I knew the price was and refused to give me my luggage unless I paid him.

I was alone and very naive about being scammed by people — so I wrote this guide as a joke to help you avoid being ripped off as well. I think there are some fine points in it though :) I have only been scammed once but it was while I was alone and traveling at night. It’s always good to be on the lookout for sketchers.

Never get in a taxi that has a broken meter, or if you haven’t set a price beforehand.

Step 1:  Take note of the license plate number or cab number. Dial the number into the phone. Now he knows that his information is merely a text away from being sent out to anybody. He also knows I have a phone to call the police if necessary (my phone was not even working at the time, I used it as a clock. It still makes for a good smokescreen though.)

Step 2: Claim “no hablo Espanol” so that if he talks of his plans to con me to anyone on the phone, or to the lady of the night he has just picked up and put in the front seat, I can eavesdrop and plot to escape.

Step 3:* Keep the machete enclosed in its case on your lap. It doesn’t matter if the taxi driver sees, it will still be sharp either way.

*I had purchased a custom made machete for my boyfriend at the time as a souvenir. This step may be a little too… hmm, psychotic, to actually implement.

What’s that? Your meter is broken?

Step 4: Once we arrive to the hostel, appear feeble to force him to help carry luggage into the building. (I was traveling with two surfboards and a backpack). Now I have my luggage and witnesses if the sketcher tries anything. Now I also have a reason to tip well if he turns out to be a friendly neighborhood taxi driver.

Step 5: If further aggression, scream bloody murder whilst pulling out machete.

Step 6: Delete your web history if stabbing ensues. Fool proof.

Photo source

Will Sell Fruit for a Ride – How I Survived Being Stranded in Nicaragua

This was copied out of my personal journal the day after the event happened. I’d like to note that my happy experiences are written grammatically flawed in Spanish, and my traumatic experiences are written in English (also grammatically flawed… ouch). Interesting! Regardless, I’ll try my best to translate my nearly indecipherable entries.

This is the story of my first few days in Nicaragua, where I was meeting up with my friend Billy from school and some of his friends from New Jersey. We were going to surf in Nicaragua for a while, then head down to Costa Rica for a week or so, then I’d finish the rest of the trip solo backpacking throughout Costa Rica.

July 30, 2010

I was sat next to a man covered in head to toe burns after boarding my flight for Copa Airlines. His ears were small holes with no flesh surrounding them and his hands seemed to be melted down into two or three fingers on each hand, but he was still able to grab things with little struggle. We started talking and he told me he has traveled all over the world and goes to Nicaragua often. The flight attendants seemed to recognize him and give him free alcohol–which he gladly accepted. He was really interesting and tried to give me the inside scoop on which beers to try while I was down there. Apparently there’s a national divide between Toña and Victoria.

Lightning was striking outside the window just about every five seconds, no exaggeration, causing us to land a bit late. My seat companion helped walk me through customs and we got through very quickly despite the long line because he had befriended many of the flight attendants. We waited for each other’s luggage and he asked if I needed any help. I told him I was fine–words I would very soon regret.

After I walked outside the airport, my driver was nowhere to be seen. My friend Billy was supposed to arrange one to take me to where he and his friends were staying, Brisas del Mar, a place that is apparently 6 hours from Managua.

I’m screwed.

I didn’t have a plan B and immediately panicked inside.

Taxi drivers were practically swarming me offering me rides places but I felt extremely overwhelmed. I saw a Best Western sign down the street and decided to walk there with my backpack and surfboard held closely. The streets were lined with Nicaraguan military and they did not appear to be friendly whatsoever.

After I got to the Best Western, I paid $75 for a room and was able to call Billy’s mom. I think I looked pretty scared because an American family sitting in the lobby of the hotel offered to let me tag along with them for a few days if I didn’t figure things out. I felt a lot safer and was able to go online and email my parents. Tomorrow I’m paying about $140 to get a driver in a 4×4 to take me to Popoyo and find Billy.

July 31, 2010

Right now I’m sitting in the passenger seat of the 4×4 Jeep Grand Cherokee — It’s exactly like mine! Same year and model except it’s green with gold rims. This place is already so incredible, so far I’m the only blonde which is weird to me! People ride doubled up on bicycles and ride mules through the roads. It’s extremely green and the air feels wet and warm. The houses on the sides of the road lack doors and have tin roofs, I imagine it’s pretty loud to sleep in there when it rains. I love how all the structures are so colorful! There are farm animals lying in the middle of the road and I just about had a heart attack when the driver almost hit (one of the millions) of stray dogs running buckwild.

 

My driver knows absolutely no English but seems to be very nice. He’s sort of shy, and laughs when I think I’ve said something completely not funny. My grammar must be that bad! A lot of our words are getting lost in translation but he’s being a good sport about keeping conversation with me.

People around here hang off the sides of buses and ride on top of cars going VERY fast.

Annnnd…. it’s been about two days since I last wrote, but after that portion, the ish hit the fan!!!

We drove to Brisas del Mar — the place Billy said he was staying. Well, my driver asked locals if they knew where Brisas del Mar was. One local would point west and say, “oh three hours that way!” another local would point east and say, “no! three hours this way!” Then someone said, “it’s my favorite restaurant” and my ears perked up a bit. But I tried not to worry about it and blamed it on my less than stellar Spanish.

We arrive at Brisas del Mar which ends up being… a restaurant.

Oh perfect, now I’m really screwed. I have no clue where I am, I don’t know a single person here, and I have no backup plan.

Thankfully my driver has a plan to drive where a lot of Americans own property–including Billy’s family–in a town called Rancho Santana.

So we start driving, and we are literally driving through rivers at this point! The roads are not paved whatsoever, but it’s entertaining and adventurous and I’m beginning to have a lot of fun!

Then the Jeep starts smoking, so we pull over and the engine is practically on fire. The driver tells me to get out and we both simply sit on the side of the road waiting for something to happen. Of course this is happening right now. Eventually, some local Nicaraguans ride by on bicycles and all of them try to get under the Jeep to fix it. It was a really sweet gesture, and one of them even said, “oh I know a mechanic about an hour away! I’ll go get him!”

 

My driver flags down a fruit truck and asks if we can get a ride to Rancho Santana. There are two teenage boys on the back selling fruit and dairy products. I climb in the back with the teenagers in the fruit and they yell, “QUESO QUESO QUESO! JUGO JUGO JUGO!” out of a microphone. They are extremely shy but friendly, and offer me fruit and juice. I laugh and ask if I can yell out of the microphone on our way to Rancho Santana and they let me. We pull over for some people buying food and they look at me like o.O *something here is different from the others…*

Finally we get to Rancho Santa and I feel so incredibly guilty because I spent all my cash on the hotel room and the driver, so I didn’t have much to offer the fruit truck workers. (As a side note, I still think about this a lot and feel very guilty about it even today! They could have used any amount of money more than I could.)

Rancho Santana is this ritzy place that reminds me of a movie… for some reason I want to say Jurassic Park? It had a nice gate and paved road winding through this jungle-like area. Then at the top of the road, on top of a hill, there was a small building and a blacked out Range Rover. I call Billy’s mom who tells the NEW driver, who speaks fluent English, where to take me and off we go!

Where does he take me? … … … THE RESTAURANT! AGAIN! At this point the adventure spirit in my body has just about broken, and I’m ready to just do the entire trip solo. As we’re driving from the restaurant back to Rancho Santana, I see a blonde and curly haired white boy walking down the road. He looks pretty familiar.

I recognize him from my friend Billy’s facebook! I had never felt so great about being a Facebook stalker than in that moment. Soon I see Billy and another one of his friends pop out of a side road to catch up with their friend and I am SO relieved. They show me where the house is (the real Brisas del Mar in my heart) which ended up being very close to the restaurant. “We totally thought you died and were never going to find us, hahahaha” Billy says. Thanks, I’m glad you remained optimistic.

The house is located on the beach along the ocean and is so incredibly beautiful. It even comes with a pair of stray dogs!