Taxis and beaches don't mix.

So Saturday morning some friends and I snagged a taxi and headed to the beach (30 minutes away, a new place none of us had been before so it was a fun adventure...well, everything is a new adventure around here for me...it was kind of our goodbye party for Jen who is heading back to America). This taxi driver was super nice and since Veronica has been here for 2 1/2 years she could speak to him really good--bonus for us that speak jack squat. He offered to come back and pick us up when we were ready to go home (side note: it is pretty rare from my 7 months of experience with taxi drivers to find one this great!). After tanning my nice bod :) (and we all know I only got a burn but Veronica showed us how to eat fresh oysters so it was worth it!) for 2 hours we were ready to head home. We trudged through the sand watching our taxi driver from a distance. I think the conversation between the four of us went a little like this, "Dude, I think our taxi is stuck in the sand." "Really? What IS he doing?" "Hmmm...yeah maybe he's stuck..." "Oh man, I think we are going to have to push him out!" "Oh yeah, he is so stuck." Okay, so we really TRIED to help the poor guy. He was probably sick of the 4 giggling Americans trying to push the car while he pushed on the gas. It's a lot harder to push a car while you are in the sand we found out. Thankfully some other nice guys with a 4 wheel drive whatever came to help BUT in the midst of it all I DID get to DRIVE the taxi! I mean really, who can say they have actually ever driven a taxi? I CAN! So what if I only drove it for about a foot but hey, I am proud! Poor nice taxi driver is probably still having nightmares.