I was up and away early, which was a good thing, given just how strenuous the day turned out to be. It was a day of cycling up very steep inclines as the road followed the cliff line, to plummet back down to sea level as the road crossed a small bridge over a river running into the sea. 

Repeat that all day long, many times over, and the novelty soon wear thin. Granted, there were some amazing views, and I did get my first tarantula sighting, but my body seemed to be constantly in the red zone, when I far prefer it to be in the green or at a push orange. Way past exhaustion, I found a campsite just outside the tiny settlement of Tizupan, where I camped on the beach, and laid in a hammock underneath a palapa, drinking a cold beer and dozing off to the sounds of the waves.