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Before even arriving in Ecuador, I had already heard mental stories out of a tiny village called Montanita, in fact I think I was in Chile or Bolivia at the time! A renowned party destination, drawing hundreds of tourists from all parts of the continent, admittedly it was not the sort of thing I was interested in before actually going there. In hindsight it was one of the best ways to finish my time in South America. With only days to go before what was sure to be a sad departure, I was eager to get slightly manic and see the crazy times first hand.
We arrived in prime time - the build up for the weekend had begun. Everything leads to the weekend. There is plenty of partying to be had during the week, but the real biz is on Friday and Saturday nights. We snagged a bargain hostel right on the water, the only trouble was that it was a 20 something bed annex next door to a club. It was a sure recipie for all sorts of gross behaviours at nightfall, and I tried not to dwell on the thought of this too much, but a sandy bed was the least of my worries.
Having said that, the food in town was good, beach refreshing and people were friendly. As a result of the stray dog party in the whole of South America, many pooches participated in a few sex acts in front of many tourists, though they didn't seem to mind that much (the dogs that is). One particular couple of dogs just couldn't seem to get the job done, and tried on numerous occasions, though we've all been there... right?
The nights activies became a bit of a routine, where the drinking would commence after lunch, usually on the beach. This was then followed by more beers back on the hostel verandah overlooking the ocean, usually accompanied by some much harder liquor and guitar/charango/harmonica from a few weed-loving Chilenos. What followed was nothing short of an abomination, with me waking up too wounded to be alive. Two nights in and I was unfortunately now used to a bad sleep due to the booming speakers of next door's nightclub until 4am. Another thing I was used to were the acid-influenced, no-good girls coming home from partying at 8am. Good on them I guess, but their voices were really annoying.
That day I went all white rasta/Sean Paul and had my hair fully braided corn row style. Something I had thought about since getting there. My hair was finally long enough and I looked hectic, so why not? After a few beers and some cosmic rays it was back to the hostel for more bevos and classic banter with the homies. That night I cannot be 100% certain of my actions but an insane amount of podium boogying was had up in da club. So much so that I actually felt like I had lost control. There were also acrobats, firedancers and hectic beats (I was drinking rum n coke m8). I can tell you that I also went swimming, very intoxicated, but that is all there is to be said.
There was no better way to spend my last few days. The time spent going for beach walks, beers, making cocktails and feeds with some new friends was the ultimate good time. We even played beach football with a team of locals where I discovered that running on sand is no fun. After an exceptionally large final night of partying, it was time to say goodbye to new friends and wish them well on future travels with the hope of eventually meeting again. With my flight that night, it was time to head to Guayaquil with my local friend Gabo, whom I had met in Buenos Aires. Montanita is a place I could (and did) see people never leaving, just blending in to the mayhem and not even realising how long they had been there. It is a place that never sleeps, from beach parties, to the streets, to the clubs. And whilst it thrives on tourism, at the same time it is an experience thousands of party animals have understandably enjoyed.
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