Check out my little $10 a night bungalow below in Puerto Lopez. I sat, singing, swinging and typing in my aqua blue hammock chair, the palm frond roof shielding me from unbearable heat which was a nice gesture on their part. Whenever we choose a hostal the guys all end up sharing rooms but being the solo lady of the group, I get my own. (I also go by the name of princess!) You'd be hard pressed to find a better spot to chill out.

Walking back to the bungalow I was approached by a guy waving a phone.

I thought it was probably a scam but humoured him anyway.

He wanted to know if I spoke Espanol, 'un poco' I told him and after a minute or two I was able to translate for a person who spoke less Spanish than me that he needed to recharge his phone to call his bank. What a moment, I finally feel like my Spanish is incrementally improving.

It's the last day of Carnaval celebrations which means a LOT of foam being shot at you on the streets. Robert and Enrique got bombed walking to dinner, Robert looks less than impressed!

The stunning sunset made up for the madness and we sat at our beachfront restaurant, mesmerised until the food was served.

The cycle crew were keen for a rest day but I was like a little Energizer Bunny after my time off in Emseraldas. I cycled 45km the next day to the surf town of Montanita and got the road almost to myself, going up and down through this beautiful national park.

I was swerving all over the place trying to dodge these giant snails who seemed to be on suicide missions to cross the road. That reminds me of a joke,

Why did the snail cross the road?

I don't know - but I'll let you know when it gets here!

haha, what a classic.

Montanita was a gringo-hub, with many jaded travellers putting down roots here, selling jewellery and letting their bug infested dreadlocks grow. That said, there's a great vibe here, more fresh fruit than you could shake a stick at and a famous surf break.

I pulled on a rash vest and hit the waves for a surf lesson. I'd like to say I took to it like a duck to water but it was more like watching a duck try to snowboard, I was well out of my depth and nothing came naturally. The surf was short and dumpy which didn't help for a beginner and I ended up having a tantrum with my instructor who just kept barking spanish instructions at me from the beach.

I battled on for another half hour.

I was happy to swallow litres of sea water but not a dribble of pride to admit I was wrong and ask the instructor for help.

I'm normally such a friendly, relaxed character but the board brought out my evil side!

Surf lesson abolished, I went for a big walk down the beach and mural art caught my eye. You'd have to be pretty clever to sneak up on a fish like that.

With the sound of the waves crashing in the distance and several different bass lines signalling it's party time I somehow refrained from hitting the d-floor, opting for some broken sleep instead. A week here would be perfect to get the hang of hanging ten but tomorrow I'm off to Bellanita to meet the cycle lads. I I will have to face my surf-demons again at a later date but for now it's onward and hopefully not upward on the bicycle.