Pesos in my pocket and camera in hand, I parked my car in the pueblo and got out and walked. It wasn't long before I came across the bread bike. A tiny Mayan man had piles of decadent goodies in a big tray on the front of his bicycle. I hadn't planned on eating four pastries for breakfast, but I just couldn't decide which one to buy.
This is the way they do street food in the little villages that dot the jungle along the coast. Bicycles designed to carry large loads roam the streets, their peddlers ringing little bells or sounding horns to announce tortillas, or fresh squeezed juices, or slow grilled chicken, or, in this case, dessert.
I paid a whopping 18 pesos for my find, immediately stuffed a sugar coated bun in my mouth, and kept walking.
Just around the corner I saw this little guy...
He was waiting so patiently in a little plastic chair while his mother sold banana leaf stuffed tamales from an old cooler. I am amazed at how well behaved the children are here. I pulled a strawberry swirled treat out of my bag and asked his mother if he could have it. Of course she smiled and agreed. Little Mr. Cutie Pie jumped right up and grabbed it and then climbed back into his chair with his prize.
Of course I bought tamales from mom. And I bought more than I needed too. But that's OK because I gave them to an old man digging up his front yard and I went home with something better than a full belly. I went home with a full heart.
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